‘Misty’s the docile one then, is she?’ Serena laughed, ducking for cover behind Mr Jones as Storm skidded to a stop in front of him.
The groomsman gave a soft laugh as he pulled a carrot from his pocket and fed it to the eager horse. ‘As you can tell, Storm certainly isn’t.’ He stroked the big mare’s nose with affection. ‘She can smell a carrot a mile away.’ He turned and gave Serena a lopsided grin. ‘Or else, she knows I bring one for her every day.’
Serena giggled at the horse’s antics, then stepped closer to stroke its nose. The short hair of Storm’s face was soft beneath her fingers. The mare nickered and sniffed at her hand, its warm breath leaving moisture on her fingers. Mr Jones fastened the halters to the two mares and Serena fell into step beside him once again as they headed back toward the house.
As she neared the stables, Serena noticed another young man pushing a wheelbarrow through the gardens. ‘Is that your brother?’ She pointed in his direction.
‘It is.’ Mr Jones nodded, then placed two fingers between his lips and let out an ear-piercing whistle. ‘Simon!’ Turning back to Serena, he added, ‘I must introduce you.’
Mr Simon set down his wheelbarrow and strode toward them. Unlike Mr King and Mr Xavier Jones, he had sandy brown hair. However, he did wear his uncle’s perpetual frown. If Serena thought Mr Xavier regarded her with suspicion at first, it was worse with Mr Simon. He did not remove his serious brown eyes from her as he approached.
‘This is Miss Serena Bellingham, Simon. She’s here to work for Uncle. Miss Bellingham, my brother Simon Jones.’
Mr Simon stared at her a moment longer before his gaze swerved to his brother. ‘No one informed me we were hiring a new maid.’
Mr Xavier cleared his throat, embarrassed by his brother’s rudeness. ‘Apparently Uncle Ed hired her.’
‘Yes, he did.’ Serena forced a smile. She needed to settle the awkwardness between them and bobbed a friendly curtsy. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Jones.’
Mr Simon eyed her with a gaze Serena could only call hostile. He stood stiff and cold, giving her only a curt nod. ‘If you’re to stay here, you need to know one thing. We don’t care for busy bodies.’
Serena tried to hide her sharp intake of breath. Another family member who enjoyed making accusations without the right information. Swallowing her affront, she pressed her lips into a faint smile. ‘I’m not here to interfere, I can assure you. I already know to leave Mr King in peace while he is working.’
Mr Simon’s eyes bored right into her soul through narrow slits, as though he searched for any deception in her words. He spoke through lips curled into a sneer. ‘Well, make sure you do. And no matter what you think you hear or see, it is not what it seems.’
Serena lay awake that night, an endless stream of questions running through her mind. Not even the potent smell of the rosemary could help her relax, and she’d pressed it to her nose several times.
When she first arrived, fear had gripped her—a fear brought on by the story her father had told her. Since then, she had experienced a wide array of emotions, it left her confused more than anything. Irritation, indignation, awe, wistfulness, bemusement—all had taken their turn as she surveyed her surroundings. It was like a cruel joke—the most beautiful house she’d ever seen, occupied by the most unfriendly people she’d ever met.
For all appearances they were well-born, but living as servants to Mr King. Why should they choose to do that? Why indeed, had they come to Australia in the first place? Had they run away? It made no sense to Serena.
No matter what you think you hear or see, it is not what it seems.
Mr Simon’s words played over her mind. A shiver of fear rippled up her spine, despite the warm blankets, and Serena sank further into the pillows, pulling the cover up to her chin. Only a sliver of moonlight cut through the darkness where the drapes did not meet, giving the bedroom an eerie glow. She had experienced such an array of emotions today, and now she was back where she’d begun.
Fear.
She shouldn’t let her mind run. Soon she would hear things that didn’t exist. Her whole body stiffened at that moment. Yes, there it was now. The slow tread of footsteps along the long stone corridor, closer and closer.
Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.
With every muscle taut, Serena held her breath. Who was out there? She knew she was the only staff member who wasn’t family or friend of Mr King, so, she was alone in this wing of the gothic mansion.
Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.
No matter what you think you hear or see, it is not what it appears. Mr Simon Jones’s words repeated in her mind yet again.
Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.
The steps were right outside her door now and Serena sat bolt upright, hugging the quilt to her chest as though it could save her life. She stared through the shadows at the dark outline of the door. There, in the gap beneath the door, a light shone. The footsteps ceased. Whoever it was stood outside her room. Serena’s heart rattled as though even it wanted to escape. Why would they stop here?
Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.
The yellow stream of light faded with the footsteps and Serena released her pent-up breath. She had expected the person to enter her room, but they had not. She slumped back onto the pillows, thankful.
Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.
The unknown person remained in the hallway, continuing their aimless journey. In that instant, Serena knew if she didn’t look for herself, she would lie awake imagining each person in the house and what their motives might be. She threw back the covers and slipped her feet into her slippers, the cold night air wrapping its chilly fingers around her bare ankles and throat. Without pausing in her step, she grabbed her
