Chapter 7
I remembered every time Nora had looked at me.
Breakfast corridor.
Winter garden.
Music room doorway.
Always curious.
Always quiet.
I thought she was shy.
She was studying my face.
Trying to find herself in it.
I looked at Mae.
“Why didn’t you tell me after you returned?”
Her answer hurt more than anger would have.
“I tried.”
“When?”
“First week.”
I frowned.
“I never saw you.”
“Exactly.”
Marcus looked away.
Mae continued.
“I asked for five minutes.”
“With whom?”
“Your chief steward.”
I turned to one of my guards.
“Bring Harris.”
The steward arrived ten minutes later.
Sixty.
Ashford employee for twenty-seven years.
He saw Mae.
Then Celeste.
And immediately looked sick.
I knew.
“Did Mae request to see me?”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
“Four.”
“Why didn’t I know?”
He looked at Celeste.
There.
Another betrayal.
She smiled calmly.
“I told him not to bother you.”
Harris whispered:
“She said Mae was unstable.”
Celeste added:
“She was.”
I ignored her.
“What else?”
Harris swallowed.
“Miss Wainwright said Nora’s father was violent.”
Mae went still.
I looked at Celeste.
“You told my own staff I was dangerous to my daughter.”
“I didn’t use your name.”
“You made sure Mae couldn’t.”
Silence.
Harris continued.
“She said if Mae got near you, the little girl could lose her housing.”
Mae closed her eyes.
Nora looked up.
“Lose home?”
Celeste sighed.
“Oh, fantastic.”
I turned.
She smiled cruelly.
“Now she’ll think we were putting her on the street.”
“You were threatening exactly that.”
“I was motivating Mae to respect boundaries.”
Harris looked ashamed.
“I believed her.”
I looked at him.
“You didn’t ask Mae?”
“No.”
“Why?”
He swallowed.
“Because Miss Wainwright was going to be Mrs. Ashford.”
That was the answer.
Celeste had been exercising authority before she officially had it.
And people obeyed because they expected me to endorse her later.
I looked around the parlor.
“How many staff took orders from Celeste?”
Harris whispered:
“Most.”
Marcus smiled.
“See?”
I turned.
“What?”
“She already runs half your house.”
Not pride.
Threat.
Then he added:
“And after the wedding, she would have run the rest.”
May you like
The marriage had never been about joining my life.
It was about entering my command structure.
