Over the next two days, I tried my very best to steer clear of Jillian, however the same courtesy was not extended back to me.

Before her return, I could count the number of times I personally had any interactions with her, but in the wake of her return she made it her goal to be more present and involved in every aspect of the household’s affairs.

With exception of Mr. Boothsworth, who seemed to be particularly unaffected by Mrs. King’s obtrusive presence, the rest of the staff seemed to be on high alert as we tiptoed about with our duties.

I was overseeing the packaging of a picnic lunch for Mrs. King and Zackary to take on an afternoon away, when Bella and Carrie walked into the kitchen.

Mrs. Blackmore and I both lifted our heads from the tarts and fruit we were packing. Carrie came over to the tray of flapjacks sitting in the middle of the table. She pulled out a chair quietly and almost whispered to Mrs. Blackmore. “Can I have one of these?”

Mr. Boothsworth plopped his empty mug of tea on the desk. The jarring sound made us all jump and we gave him a questioning look.

“What is happening?” he asked, his voice unusually loud, or maybe we were all just unusually quiet, we couldn’t tell anymore.

“What do you mean?” Mrs. Blackmore responded.

“The entire household seems to be walking on egg shells. Am I missing something?”

“Lower your voice,” Mrs. Blackmore muttered.

He frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“Mrs. King has been strange since she returned and it gives me the hebe jeebies.”

“How so?” Mr. Boothsworth asked, not as familiar with the intricacies of women’s ways.

“She doesn’t go out as much anymore,” Mrs. Blackmore answered, “and she seems unusually quiet. It’s like the calm before the storm.”

“Not quiet,” Carrie corrected, “Watchful. I swear I feel as though I’m about to get fired at any moment.”

“Me too,” Bella added from her stance by the refrigerator as she drank some fruit infused water. “What surprises me the most is how much time she is now spending with Zackary. She put him to bed last night, Charlotte, did she not? And now today they’re heading out for the afternoon, picnic basket and all. I’ve worked here for two years and this has never happened. The woman hates the outdoors. She brought the house down because of a spider in her room.”

“She’s also been lurking around a lot near the Master’s wing. I don’t know what she’s doing there,” Mrs. Blackmore added with a sigh. “The last time I nearly died of fright when I went in there to check on the towels and she was behind the door. I swear I feel like I'm going to pass out from all the tension. Thank God, Mr. King has gone away for a few days to France, or my poor nerves will never be able to settle down.”

“Charlotte what about you?” Mr. Boothsworth called when I remained silent. “Do you also think Madam is behaving strangely?”

I didn’t know what to say. Brett wanted to take me with him to France, but I knew it was the wrong time. I didn’t want to give her a chance to poison the boy so I stayed, but I almost wish I had gone. Especially now with everyone looking at me for an answer. Luckily for me, Carrie saved me from having to answer that loaded question.

“Charlotte seems to be the luckiest,” Carrie said. “By spending so much time with Zackary, Madam has cut her workload in half, while the rest of us are using a magnifying glass to polish the floors.” She turned to me and pouted to show that she did not mean the rest of her words. “I envy you.”

“I don’t think so,” Bella refuted. “Somehow I feel as though this is all hugely centered around Charlotte. I haven’t actually seen her speak to Charlotte since she returned. She’s been passing out instructions through everyone else. Do you think that she is upset because you somehow got Zackary close to his father again?”

“That is true,” Mrs. Blackmore said slowly. “All this started when she came back and found him at dinner with Zackary and Charlotte.”

Everybody turned to look at me and I could feel the color burn up my throat until the shrill of the intercom rang right then through the room. Everyone jumped, especially me. At first no one moved, then Mr. Boothsworth muttered, “Talk of the devil,” and got up to answer it. We all listened to her cold voice come through. When the call ended, he turned to us. We all stared at each other, some of us, not me, had silent fright in our eyes.

“You heard her,” he said. “She wants us all in the drawing room.”

We all trooped into the exquisite drawing room where I had arrived for my interview. So much had happened since then. It felt almost as if that was a different person. I looked around the room remembering the wariness I had felt.

“Is something funny, Charlotte?” Jillian asked.

I turned to meet her gaze. “No, there isn’t.” I could feel the other staff exchanging peculiar looks with each other.

She went straight to the point. “My emerald bracelet is missing.”

I didn't think it was possible for the room to become quieter, but it did. Everyone froze.

Jillian went on. “I was away for a little while so that’s probably when—”

Mr. Boothsworth spoke up. “Madam, I’ll review the security footage and handle this myself.”

“No, Barnaby,” she said coldly. “I’ll handle this myself. I don’t want to waste time and I won’t house a thief a moment longer than necessary. I’ve sent some of the security guards from our London offices to all your rooms to investigate. We should be able to figure out the truth very soon.”

All our mouths dropped open in shock. She had sent strangers into our rooms without telling us, without having us there to see what they were doing with our private stuff. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. I think I already knew what the outcome of this ‘search’ was going to be. Around me people shifted, but I did not move. I just stared at her. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. She opened a book and started reading it.

Less than ten minutes later two of the security personnel she had talked about came into the drawing room with the missing bracelet in hand.

Of course. They found the bracelet in my room, tucked away in my suitcase. The rest of the staff was asked to leave. I boldly met her gaze.

For a while the only sound was the tapping of her feet against the floor. Then I spoke. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of lording it over me. “I didn’t take your jewelry, but regardless, I’ll quit. Thanks for the opportunity. I enjoyed working here in spite of everything.”

“No,” she refuted furiously. “You’re not quitting. I’m firing you. The rest of the staff have witnessed this incident so humbly tuck your tail between your legs and get out of my home. I will extend some mercy to you. I’ll keep this out of my assessment of your performance if you agree never to come back here, or try to contact my husband again, otherwise I’ll make sure everyone knows you are a dangerous thief. Also you’ll fuck their husbands behind their backs. I will ruin you, I swear it on my life.”

I watched her, wondering how a woman could have been so blessed and yet so ungrateful? How could she not see how incredibly lucky she was? She was willing to throw it all away for cheap sex with men who probably didn’t give a shit about her. I had already opened my mouth to tell her where she could stick her stupid threat, when Zackary ran into the room.

“Charlotte, are you coming with Mummy and me for the picnic?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, darling. This time it is just going to be you and Mummy.”

“Awww,” he groaned with disappointment.

Mrs. King glared at her son. I knew that she was fuming uncontrollably underneath. “Zackary, don’t be such a crybaby. Stand up straight. Look at your hands. They look filthy. Let me see them. Come here.”

The boy went over to her, and she put him on her lap and started to clean his hands. For a few seconds I stared at them. Their blonde heads close together. Zackary was her son. Not mine. No matter how much I pretended to myself, he was not mine and she would never allow him to feel anything for me but hate. I had to end this here. It had already gone too far. I knew I couldn’t stay under her roof for a moment longer.

“Take care of Zackary,” I said to her. “He’s a wonderful boy.”

“Go,” she ordered without looking up.

Outside the security personnel were waiting for me. They escorted me up to my room where my things were already packed. After confirming there was nothing left behind, the security personnel picked up my luggage and escorted me down the stairs. I met the rest of the staff at the foot of the stairs. I wished they had not bothered, because I was already so close to tears.

Mrs. Blackmore gave me a hug. “I know you had nothing to do with it,” she said, and it consoled me when I saw the same vote of confidence reflected in the eyes of the other staff.

“Give me your address,” Carrie said.

And I was about to, when Mrs. King’s voice rang out. “Don’t you dare communicate with the thief. Unless you want to join her.”

Carrie went white. I just smiled at her and walked out of the house.

I wished so desperately to be able to see Brett. Even if it was for one last time. This wouldn’t be happening if he was here. He’d know the last thing I would do is steal his wife’s jewelry. Hell, if I wanted jewelry, all I had to do was ask April. She’d shower me with them.

I got into the dark car waiting for me. The driver said nothing. Then the massive gates were sliding shut behind me. Fighting back tears I turned around to gaze at the old dark castle. It had opened me to passions I’d never experienced before. My instinct had been right that day when I’d first arrived here and I’d had the impression if I entered these gates I’d leave a different person.

I was leaving as a different person.

I refused to allow the tears to fall because if I did, I didn't know how I was going to make them stop.