The servants start their duties at five-thirty, and already this part of the house is a hive of energy. The cooks are in the kitchen preparing the day’s breakfasts and luncheons. The maids set about the house with dusters and polish and from the large windows I notice the gardeners are busy tending to the lawns. Everything in my house works like a well-oiled machine, and I love it.
After checking each room, I stumble upon Bessie and Nancy doing the laundry.
“Sir,” Nancy says, with a curtsy.
“Mr Calloway.” Bessie nods once before continuing to load the dirty clothes into the machine.
“Bessie, you were with me the evening I brought Miss Janssen home.”
“Correct,” she says, wiping her hands down the front of her tunic.
“You took her clothes with you to be washed. Amongst her things you may have come across—”
Bessie lifts her finger and reaches into the pocket of her trousers. “Yes, the lady’s phone. It was seconds from going in with the washing. Luckily it started to buzz, and I slipped it into my pocket for safekeeping. Here,” she says, retrieving the device and handing it to me. “I was meaning to give it to you sooner, but I’ve just been very busy with my work.”
“Thank you, Bessie,” I say and peer down at the screen.
“The battery is dead, sir. I’m sure one of the staff has a charger you could use.” Bessie motions her hand toward the door. “If you like, I can ask around.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you.”
I join my cook Mrs Collins in the kitchen and have a cup of Earl Grey tea while I wait. Bessie is true to her word and returns some ten minutes later with a phone charger in hand and I make my way up to my bedroom.
I place Chelsea’s phone on the nightstand beside her and smile, knowing she will have her phone fully charged by the time she wakes up. The second I slide into bed, I notice the bolster is no longer on the mattress between us—she must have knocked it off in her sleep. I’m about to reach down to retrieve it when Chelsea turns over and places her head on my chest.
“Hey, Chelsea,” I say, and gently begin to lift her.
“I’m comfy,” she grumbles.
Well, if the lady is comfortable, I wouldn’t want to move her. I wrap my arm around my Sleeping Beauty and place a kiss on her head before closing my eyes.
The first thing I do when I wake up is reach out my hand. The space beside me is cold and empty. Her side of the bed has been made and the duvet tucked neatly under the mattress.
I can’t help the pang of disappointment that ripples through me, but what was I expecting?
After a shower and change of clothes I head downstairs in search of my fiancée. Laughter and conversations echo throughout the corridors, and I follow the voices to the orangery. I’m surprised to find Natasha and Josh are sitting on my wicker sofa and indulging in a continental breakfast laid out buffet-style on a chunky wooden table.
“Lucian, my man.” Josh smiles before lowering his head to butter a croissant. The morning sun reflects in from the glass-paned roof, making red tones shine in his black hair.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“There was a leak at my place,” Josh says. “I’ve had to get plumbers to fix the pipe, and a new carpet is being laid as we speak.” By the way Josh’s eye twitches, I know he’s telling a blatant lie. Josh and Natasha have a long-distance relationship, and whenever she visits he always finds a reason to stay over at one of my estates. I can’t say I mind seeing as I own numerous properties up and down the country. I suspect the only reason our paths have crossed is because this is the closest estate to where last night’s charity gala was held.
“Won’t you join us for breakfast?” Josh asks, a droplet of sweat working its way down his brow. He’s nervous, but he needn’t be.
“It’s fine, stay as long as you like. I, however, will not be joining you for breakfast. I’m looking for my fiancée.”
“Oh, Chelsea is so lovely,” Natasha purrs. “You’ve chosen well because she’s a keeper.”
I nod in acknowledgement. How I wish that could be true because I want nothing more than to have Chelsea as a permanent fixture in my life.
I study Natasha for a beat. She is naturally pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way. She’s a genuinely nice person, and loyal to a fault, which is hard to find in today’s world. I can honestly say my cousin is lucky to have her.
Josh leans forward in the seat, inserting himself into the conversation. “Chelsea joined us for breakfast a little while ago, followed shortly by your sister. They started talking about horse riding, and that’s when Farrah offered to show her the stables.”
“Excellent,” I say and reach down, stealing the newly buttered croissant from Josh’s hand.
“Hey, that’s mine,” Josh complains.