There’s a scene in The Witching Hour where Rowan and Michael finally take possession of the creepy/beautiful Garden District house and are exploring. This, of course, ultimately leads to badness, but one of the parts I loved was when they discovered all of the table service in the butlers pantry - old linens and crystal and fragile china. I am awfully fond of the the breakables. 
In the small high-ceilinged pantry, they discovered shelves on top of shelves of gorgeous china: Minton, Lenox, Wedgwood, Royal Doulton – flowered patterns, Oriental patterns, patterns bordered in silver and gold, Old white ware and Oriental porcelain, antique Blue Willow and old Spode.
There were chests upon chests of sterling, heavy ornate pieces by the hundreds, nestled in felt, including very old sets with the English marks and the initial M in the European style engraved on the back.
Michael was the one who knew such things; his long love affair with Victoriana in all forms stood him well. He could identify the fish knives and the oyster forks and the jelly spoons and dozens of other tiny special items, of which there were countless number in a dozen different ornate patterns.
Sterling candlesticks they found, elaborate punch bowls and serving platters, bread plates and butter dishes and old water pitchers and coffee urns and teapots and carafes. Exquisite chasing. Magically, the darkest tarnish gave way to the hard rub of the finger, revealing the old luster of pure silver beneath.
Cut glass bowls of all sizes were pushed to the back of the cabinets, leaded crystal dishes and plates.
Only the tablecloths and the piles of old napkins were too far gone, the fine linen and lace having rotted in the inevitable damp, the letter M showing proudly still here and there beneath the dark stain of mildew.
Yet even a few of these had been carefully preserved in a dry cedar-lined drawer, wrapped in blue paper. Heavy old lace that had yellowed beautifully and tumbled among them were napkin rings of bone and silver and gold.
