Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“Miss Grey,” he says, almost dubiously—eyeing me like he’s wondering what I’m even doing back here after I scurried off days ago. “He’s waiting for you in his office.”
“Thank you, Mr. Peters,” I answer brightly. “Have you been well since the last time we spoke?”
“I cannot complain, miss,” he answers neutrally and turns to lead me into the house.
I follow him down now-familiar halls, working through my thoughts. What could I possibly ask him to probe for clues?
“There’s a lot of history in these walls. I feel like I’m being hired to overwrite it, but I suppose it can’t be all bad,” I say. “Rumors, you know. People love to spread the dark stuff around, but what about the happy memories in this house? I just wonder if I’ll be erasing them.”
Joseph doesn’t look at me, but his back stiffens.
I almost think he won’t answer until he mutters, almost under his breath, “I’m not sure happiness can ever thrive in this house, Miss Grey. Frankly, I am not certain that even extensive redecorating will banish the ghosts in these halls.”
My breath catches.
“Wait, do you mean… do you mean the maid?” I ask. “Did you know her?”
“Cora,” he says sharply, as if her is an insult.
“Sorry,” I answer. “I totally meant no disrespect.”
Joseph Peters stops in the middle of the hall, turning to face me with a long, thoughtful look. He’s younger than some of the other servants I’ve seen around, probably under forty. He has a neat crop of brown hair parted down one side and kind, but wary brown eyes.
“Cora Lafayette was like an aunt to me,” he says slowly. Carefully. Like he’s choosing every word. “Perhaps even a second mother, better than the one who never wanted me. I came here for work, but Cora, she made me feel like I belonged. Not a day passes that I do not miss her, Miss Grey.” He swallows tightly. “And I do not know what you mean to accomplish by asking me this.”
“I’m sorry!” I hiss. “Really. I didn’t mean to be rude or poke at any open wounds.”
Joseph gives me another lingering look, almost unreadable. “This house is an open wound, Miss Grey,” he says.
Then he pivots sharply on his heel. The forbidding line of his back tells me this conversation is over.
Well, crap.
I think I just hurt a man who doesn’t deserve it, and possibly closed a door for Micah.
I want to apologize again, but I keep my mouth shut.
Sometimes, it’s better to just stop digging.
We’re not far from Xavier’s office anyway, and I’m surprised to look past Joseph and see Xavier’s usually closed office door hanging open. A hint of sunlight from the windows spills into the lamplit halls.
Joseph moves to the doorway, then goes stiff, whipping around like he’s about to stop me, stretching out one hand. “Miss Grey—”
Too late.
I’m too close on his heels and I stop behind him, staring into the room.
Xavier Arrendell stands behind his desk with—
My scarf?
What?
It’s pressed to his face, right over his nose and mouth. His eyes are closed almost blissfully as he inhales deeply.
Holy shit!
I nearly barf on the spot.
I didn’t know I left my scarf here, though now I remember setting it in my lap at lunch. It must have fallen in the garden when I fled.
Now, here’s Xavier, sniffing it like a curious dog.
He doesn’t even notice Joseph and I are standing there.
For a second, there’s a flash of abject disgust on Joseph’s face. It feels like he’s expressing what I can’t.
But the valet abruptly wipes the look away as Xavier slowly lowers my scarf from his face and opens his eyes with a deliberation that stops my heart.
He knows.
He effing knows.
He’s aware we caught him.
And he also doesn’t care how we feel about it, either.
In fact, his gaze slides lazily to me, his catlike green eyes lidded with sick satisfaction, like he’s enjoying the shock that must be written all over my face.
“Miss Grey,” he drawls slowly. “Excellent timing.”
I make a choked sound, trying to find impossible words. But Joseph speaks up first.
“I’ll take my leave, sir,” he says. “Do call if you need anything else.”
He’s clearly speaking to Xavier, only his eyes cut to me briefly. There’s a sympathetic look, like he doesn’t want to leave me alone with this man, but to keep up appearances he has no choice.
Is that a warning in his eyes? Is he telling me to play along?
My heart shrinks.
And I remember that app Micah had me install. Maybe his instincts were right after all.
I’m starting to get just how serious this is.
Joseph bows and turns to march away, leaving me frozen in the doorway and trying not to hyperventilate while Xavier watches me like the cat that got the cream.
Honestly, it pisses me off that he thinks it’s so cute, that it had to be intentional, staging this scene so I’d catch him.