Chapter 2 - Shadows in the Hallway
The service stairwell smelled of old dust, floor wax, and the faint, coppery scent of the old Victorian plumbing that ran through the skeleton of the Prescott estate. Chadworth took the steps two at a time, his breathing measured, every muscle in his body coiled tight. The anger pulsing through his veins wasn't the hot, reckless fury of a betrayed man; it was the cold, calculating rage of a predator whose territory had been invaded.
He reached the second-floor landing and slid the heavy, unlubricated maintenance door open just an inch.
The hallway outside was quiet. Thick Persian runners muffled any sound, but from down the corridor, the sharp, authoritative cadence of Sabina’s voice cut through the stillness.
“...and if I catch you speaking out of turn to me again, Rosamund, you won’t just be out of a job. You’ll find it very difficult to find employment anywhere in this city. Do you understand the kind of influence I carry?”
Chadworth froze, his hand tightening around the edge of the doorframe.
He pushed the door open slightly wider, peering down the softly lit hallway. Sabina stood near the top of the grand staircase, her posture rigid, her face twisted into an expression of pure, unfiltered malice. A few feet away, Rosamund stood beside a linen cart, her hands resting calmly on the edge of a stack of fresh towels.
There was no trace of the trembling, intimidated maid Sabina liked to describe to him over dinner. Rosamund’s expression was an impenetrable mask of quiet dignity.
“I understand your position perfectly, Miss Sabina,” Rosamund replied, her voice steady, low, and devoid of any fear. “Just as I understand mine. My contract is with Mr. Prescott, and my duty is to his daughters. As long as they are safe under this roof, I will continue to do my job. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Sabina took a sharp step forward, her face flushing with anger. “You arrogant little—do you really think Chadworth cares about a hired hand over his future wife? He’s away right now, and by the time he gets back, you’ll be a distant memory. I’ve already drafted the termination papers. All he has to do is sign them.”
Chadworth’s breath hitched. Termination papers? Sabina hadn't just been whispering complaints; she had already planned the execution of her coup. She was cutting the strings one by one, isolating his daughters, and positioning herself as the absolute ruler of his home.
“Mr. Prescott values loyalty, Miss Sabina,” Rosamund said softly, her eyes holding Sabina’s gaze with unnerving confidence. “And true loyalty doesn't require a signature. It requires honesty. Something you might want to practice before he returns.”
Sabina’s hand lashed out—not to strike, but in a furious gesture of dismissal, pointing down the hall. “Get out of my sight. Go clean the east wing and stay out of my way until dinner.”
Rosamund gave a slow, deliberate nod, turned her cart around, and began walking directly toward the service stairwell—directly toward where Chadworth was standing in the shadows.
Chadworth didn't move. He stepped back into the deeper gloom of the doorway, his heart hammering against his ribs as the sound of the squeaking cart wheels drew closer.
As Rosamund reached the heavy metal door, she didn't just pass by. She slowed her pace, turned her head slightly toward the dark recess of the stairwell where Chadworth stood, and paused. For a fraction of a second, her eyes met his in the dim light. There was no surprise in her gaze. No gasp of alarm.
Instead, a flicker of grim acknowledgment passed across her face, as if she had known he was there all along.
“Mr. Prescott,” she murmured so softly the words barely carried past the doorframe, her voice laced with quiet validation. “The girls are in the nursery. They’ve been waiting for you to look closer.”
Before Chadworth could utter a single word, she pushed her cart forward, her footsteps fading down the corridor toward the east wing.
Chadworth stood frozen for a moment, the weight of her words pressing down on his chest. They’ve been waiting for you to look closer.
May you like
He turned away from the landing, abandoning his plan to confront Sabina in the hallway. Instead, he pivoted toward the west wing, taking a private, rarely used corridor that led directly to the children’s suite. It was time to stop watching the screens. It was time to look his daughters in the eyes and hear the truth.
---
