“Cassidy Ryan, I presume?” an older man in a suit asked once my wobbly feet hit the ground.
I straightened my loose shirt, feeling entirely too casual in jeans. “Yes. Hi.”
“My name is Max.” He reached out his hand to shake mine. “I’m Liam’s butler.”
My brow lowered. “Liam?”
“Your client.” He smiled warmly. “There are a few William’s in this family, so we refer to each with an alternative name to avoid confusion.” He cleared his throat. “Except his son. We always address him as Mr. Harlow.”
Mr. Harlow was the man who interviewed me alongside his wife, Caroline. He had barely said a word while his wife did the majority of the interrogation. With the sensitive nature of my work, I often expected resistance from family members, so his manner didn’t surprise me.
My initial interview with William,aka Liam, the elderly man I’d be working for, went beautifully. Although it was over the phone, I could sense his gentle nature through his voice. Now, after meeting his spawn, I was beginning to doubt myself.
“Mr. and Mrs. Harlow are waiting for you in the drawing room. They’ll take you to meet Liam.” He picked up my luggage. “Please follow me.”
“Wait.” I gaped up at the building ahead. “This is the house?” I’d assumed it was a fancy hotel.
“This is Harlow Manor. Yes.”
My eyes widened. “Wow.”
“It’s very impressive, indeed.”
I quickened my step to match his stride. “How long have you been working here?”
“Almost seventeen years.”
“So, you know Liam quite well, then?”
A flicker of sadness crossed Max’s eyes. “Very well.”
“Is he anything like...his son?”
“Oh no.” He laughed. “Quite the opposite.”
“Phew.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about Mr. and Mrs. Harlow. They’re about to embark on a trip through Europe, so you won’t be seeing them often.”
“Oh, I thought they’d want to be here...for Liam.”
“They’ll fly back intermittently.” Max cleared his throat. “Liam isn’t especially close to his son. His grandsons, yes, but not his own.”
“Why is that? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Much to Liam’s disappointment, Mr. Harlow’s obsession with wealth and success overrode his father’s ideals.”
“And his grandsons? Are they just as…ambitious?”
“Yes and no. Grayson has always been the gentler of the two, but Adam…he’s yet to be determined.”
“Thank you. It helps to know what I’m walking into.” As we strode along the pebbled pathway lined with box hedges, I turned my gaze to the vast grounds before me. The gardens were carefully planned, professionally manicured, and absolutely gorgeous.
“The late Elizabeth Harlow designed these gardens herself. Not a cent has been spared in conserving their beauty.”
“It’s so beautiful here,” I gushed. “And that tree…wow.” A stunning elm tree, ablaze with red and orange, captivated me instantly. It was one of the largest I’d ever seen.
“Betty planned the entire garden around it.”