Chapter 1
I watch the sun set through the backseat window as the taxi pulls up to the estate. It’s not lost on me how unusual it is to have a job interview at sundown.
I lean forward to speak to the driver. “How much extra would I have to pay for you to stay out here to make sure I don’t get killed in there?” It’s meant to be a joke, but I know I sound more nervous than I should.
He scoffs and looks at me through the rearview mirror. “Just pay and get out kid.”
“Right, sorry.” I take out my phone to tap to pay and scramble out of the cab. The guy wastes no time leaving me in the dust. I watch as the car retreats until it turns around the bend and disappears.
My attention turns back to the estate.
Old brick with lush ivy growing up the sides towers over me. It’s much more well maintained than the average old Victorian mansion. Not a single window isn’t blocked out by curtains, making it impossible to see inside.
The outside’s grounds keeping speaks for itself. It’s meticulous and lovely. Foxgloves, poppies, and several beautiful flowers I can’t begin to name thrive. Not a single petal is wilted or out of place. The surrounding hedges are neatly trimmed. Even the the grass and stone pathways are perfectly maintained and absent of weeds.
Either this is the bare minimum for the Lady of the house or she has an exceptionally passionate groundskeeper. To fool myself into thinking I have a chance at this position I’ll have to hope for the later. I raise my phone and snap a picture of the house.
Immediately I send it to Mel with the address. If you don’t hear from me within a couple hours, assume this listing was too good to be true and I was murdered by some rich asshole lol x
My phone buzzes as she responds. She reacts to the picture with the side eyes emoji and sends a good luck! I’ll call you when I get off work to check in
I put my phone away and nervously walk up towards the grand double doors. My hand grips the old, ornate knocker and I force myself to use it.
An older lady with kind, brown eyes and graying hair bound into a tight, neat bun answers the door. She looks me up and down and gives me a small smile. “You must be the interview.” She opens the door wider and steps to the side, “Please, come in.”
I step inside, “Are you Miss Byrne?”
She lets out a small laugh. “Oh no dear, but you flatter me. I’m Nadine, the head maid. We’ll be working very closely together should you get the job.” She offers her hand for me to shake it.
I take it and give a gentle shake. “Nice to meet you, I’m Corinne. Though, if we end up working together feel free to call me Cori.”
She gives a small smile and lets go of my hand. “Lady Byrne will be with you in a moment. Let me escort you to the drawing room.”
She leads me down a beautifully decorated hallway lit by oil lamps gilded in gold. A maid is going around to each window and opening the thick, red blackout curtains. I notice the sun has fully set.
Nadine stops in front of an archway with delicately carved dark wood filigree. “Wait in here, our Lady will be with you once she finishes dealing with other matters.”
I walk in slowly and start to look around. Once my eyes land on a gorgeous piano in the far corner, I don’t bother to look at anything else.
“I advise you make yourself comfortable.” With that, she leaves me alone.
That must mean the Lady of the house will be awhile, right? I turn and glance out the hallway to ensure I’m really alone. Once I confirm, I waste no time in rushing over to the piano. As I circle around it, I notice the maker’s name on the front.
Weber.
My fingers carefully graze the lacquered rosewood as I stare at it in awe. An actual Weber grand piano. I try to contain my excitement as I inspect it more closely. It looks perfectly maintained. Never in my life did I think I would see one in person, let alone touch one.
Maybe I could get away with playing a few chords? Surely I have more time before Lady Byrne would be in to see me. My fingers hover over the keys for a moment, hesitant.
Before I can stop myself, I start to play.
C.
A minor.
C.
A minor.
F. G. C. G.
“I see you play.” A woman’s voice startles me, smooth and deep with a slight accent.
I practically jump out of my skin as I turn around to face her. A beautiful sight greets me. She’s young with long, wavy chestnut hair that frames her sharp jawline perfectly. I notice she’s draped in a long, deep red dress that almost matches the curtains in the hall.
My brain stops working at the sight of her.
She must mistake my reaction for embarrassment at being caught, because she quickly tries to assure me. “You need not worry, Miss Miller. I understand the allure of a beautiful instrument. I was a musician myself in my day, you would hardly find me without my violin.” She smiles slightly.
I try desperately to think of a response, but all that comes out is, “Your day? You can’t be much older than me, miss.”
Her smile falters for a moment. “Mayhaps, but I consider my youth to be long over.”
I’m screwed. There’s absolutely no way I’m getting this job. If touching her priceless piano without her permission didn’t already disqualify me, surely the foot in my mouth does. I’m about to thank her for the opportunity and excuse myself when she speaks up again.
“Shall we start the interview?”
I try to hide my surprise. “Of course,” I move towards the chairs in the center of the room. She does as well and takes a seat. I notice how prim and proper her posture is. Back straight with shoulders back and her legs are neatly folded in front of her. Sitting across from her makes me too aware of my own posture.
“Tell me about yourself, Miss Miller.”
“I know that I have no household management experience, but I am very hard working-”
“No,” she interrupts, holding her hand up to signal me to stop. “Let me be clear, I have seen your resume, I know what is on the paper. I read your cover letter. I want to know about the person I am considering hiring.” Her tone is firm, with no room for argument and it brings her accent out a bit more. Definitely from somewhere in the United Kingdom.
I take a deep breath. “Well, I recently graduated with my PhD in archaeology. My main focus was actually anthropology.”
“What made you decide on that?” It’s rare for me to hear that question without any hint of judgment, but her tone is fully curious.
“Well, ever since I was little, I’ve loved learning about human history in all aspects. My mom was actually a history teacher, so she really fostered that love and drive for knowledge inside me. She even used to read me European folklore as bedtime stories and I never grew out of that fascination either. I even minored in it during university before my grad school years.” Am I rambling? Is that too much about myself? I didn’t prepare myself for this line of questioning.
“Interesting,” she looks me up and down. Her eyes stop at my neck. I follow her gaze and notice I’ve been fidgeting with my necklace while talking. “A cross?” Her tone is questioning, but I’m not quite sure what she’s trying to ask.
“Yes?” I answer tentatively.
“Forgive me, Miss Miller,” her eyes meet mine and I notice how red they look in the lamplight. “You simply don’t strike me as a religious woman.”
“To be completely honest with you, I’m not.” I let out a sigh and let go of the necklace. “My father gave it to me when he joined the clergy and I just figured it wouldn’t hurt to… throw him a bone I guess? He doesn’t have to hear what I really think about the whole thing.” I clear my throat.
“Again, forgive me, it was only curiosity. I did not mean to pry,” She offers another apology.
“It’s okay, really. I didn’t mind.” I downplay it as much as I can. A job interview is far from the right time to get into my issues.
Awkward silence ensues, the exact kind you dread in this scenario.
“What about the piano? Why did you start playing?” A valiant attempt to move the conversation along. Relief floods through me.
I take the bait. “My mother signed me up for lessons as a kid and I just fell in love with it. Playing was never forced on me, so it was never stressful. It’s always been a nice, relaxing way to clear my head.”
“How lovely,” another slight smile. I wonder what a full grin from her would look like for a moment before coming back to my senses. “You speak of your mother a lot. Are you two quite close?”
My mouth goes dry. I open it to speak but nothing comes out for a second. I force myself to swallow the lump that formed in my throat. “She’s always been a very important part of my life.” Finally, words come out and I try to regain whatever composure I have left. This entire experience has been too personal for my liking.
Lady Byrne eyes me for a moment before opening her mouth to speak.
Bzzzzzt. Bzzzt.
Bzzzzzt. Bzzzt.
Shit.
“I’m so sorry,” I pull my phone out and see Mel’s contact on the screen. “I must’ve forgot to silence it. It’s my friend checking in.”
“It’s alright, I suppose this meeting has gone on longer than you expected. Feel free to answer.”
My thumb is already hovering the decline button. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be rude.”
“It’s no problem, go on,” she assures me as she leans back in her seat. The most relaxed I’ve seen her so far.
“Thank you, I’ll be quick.” I get up and walk over to the corner of the room. I press accept and raise the phone to my ear.
“Thank god! I was beginning to think you were actually murdered by some rich asshole!” She laughs to make it sound like I joke, but I can hear the slight worry in her tone.
“Hey Mel, sorry, I’m still in the interview. Can I call you back after?”
“How about I pick you up? I can wait outside for you until you’re done so you don’t have to call another cab.”
“You don’t have to-” I start to object.
“Have you considered I want to Cori?” She silences me immediately. “C’mon I would’ve taken you if I didn’t have work.”
“If this is a rescue attempt, I don’t need it… I think,” I whisper the last part as quietly as I can.
“Too late, already on my way! Your chariot will be awaiting your valiant return babe.” That’s it, no arguing with her now.
I let out a small giggle. “Alright, I appreciate it Mels, I’ll see you then.”
“Love ya girlie! Bye!”
“Love you too,” I hang up the phone and make my way back to my seat. “I’m sorry about that,” the apology spills out as I sit.
“You’re sorry you have people that care about you?” She inquires in a tone that I can’t pinpoint.
“What?” I’m taken aback by the question. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t trade Mel for the world. She’s my best friend. I just-” I try not trip over my words in my surprise. “What I meant to say was that I’m sorry if that came off as unprofessional.”
“If it was an issue, I assure you I would have been upfront about it. I’m not one to beat around the bush, Miss Miller.” She sits up straight again. “Now, are you ready to continue? I promise not to keep you much longer.”
“Right, yes, of course.” I try to match her posture. “What else would you like to know?”
“Let’s just get right to it. Why are you interested in this job?”
I bite my lip while I try to decide what to tell her. It’s one of the few questions I prepped for when doing this interview in my head. My answer is solid, but not truthful. Something tells me she’d see right through it.
“How honest do you want me to be?” I ask hesitantly, already regretting the question.
“Trust me, I know being a butler is scarcely ever someone’s dream job,” a small laugh escapes her. “You can be completely honest.”
I take a deep breath. The truth, okay.
“I was attracted by the salary and how much the room and board would save me on living expenses.” I start slowly, but it turns into a ramble. “Grad school wasn’t cheap as you can imagine and I’ve kinda been staying on friend’s couch since graduating. No dorm room once you’re out of school, y’know? I don’t want her to keep being inconvenienced by me. The one thing that’s worse than the looming task of paying back my student loans is feeling like I’m taking advantage of the one person who’s always there for me.” It spills out so fast that once I’m done I have to catch my breath.
She blinks at me. “Well, we will simplify that to say ‘financial reasons’… I think. I must admit, that last half was a bit hard to follow, but I think I understood the sentiment. I would wager yours is as good a reason as any. You seem like a good, responsible young woman.” She stands up, “That should be plenty of questions.” The Lady strides over to a thick cord against the far wall and pulls it. As she does, a bell chimes.
In almost no time at all, a maid comes running in. She looks younger than me with freckles that dot her cheeks. Her dark hair is pulled up in a bun and her brown eyes are trained on Lady Byrne. “Yes, m’lady?”
“Please find Nadine and have her give Miss Miller here a tour of the estate.” She makes her way back to where she was sitting. “Oh, and do send in someone for my meal,” she glances at me, “to bring it in here, that is.”
The girl looks over at me for a second before responding. “Who would you like to… bring it, m’lady?”
“Anyone will be fine, except Sophia. That poor girl needs a break. No matter how much she volunteers, send someone else.” With that, Lady Byrne waves her off, “That will be all Eva.”
She gracefully falls back into the chair.
“Yes ma’am,” Eva says as she gives a slight curtsy. She turns to me, “Follow me, I’ll drop you off with Nadine.”
I stand and go to follow her. I pause and turn back to face The Lady, “It was very nice to meet you, Lady Byrne.”
“You as well. May I call you Corinne? I try to be much less formal with my close staff.”
“Call me Cori,” I nod my head as a goodbye before I leave her in the drawing room.
As I Eva leads me back down the hall and upstairs, I realize what she had just said. Does that mean I’m hired?
