Chapter 2 - The Chamber Upstairs
The third floor of the Marchetti manor was off-limits to guests and lower staff alike. It was where the architectural elegance of the house gave way to dim hallways, heavy oak doors, and the faint, persistent smell of medicinal herbs and old paper.
In the corner room, hidden behind a set of double velvet drapes, sat Eleanor Marchetti.
At seventy-eight, the matriarch of the Marchetti family was confined to an iron-framed wheelchair. Her body was frail, her white hair pinned back into a tight bun, but her dark eyes were as sharp as steel needles.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
"Enter," Eleanor said, her voice thin but firm.
The door slipped open, and Adeline stepped inside. She had removed Enzo's coat and left it folded neatly outside on a chair. She had washed her face in cold water, though her arms still throbbed with a dull, burning heat under her cotton sleeves.
"You're late with the tea," Eleanor noted, not looking up from her velvet-bound ledger.
"There was a delay in the lower corridor, ma'am," Adeline said smoothly, stepping over to the small table near the window to pour fresh chamomile tea from a china pot.
Eleanor stopped writing. She slowly turned her chair around, her sharp eyes inspecting the young woman. She caught the slight tremor in Adeline's right hand as she set the teacup down.
"Show me your arms," the old woman commanded.
Adeline hesitated for a fraction of a second, then gently rolled back her left sleeve. The dark purple and red lines stood out starkly against her pale skin.
Eleanor’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Camila."
"It does not matter, ma'am," Adeline replied, her voice smooth and devoid of self-pity. "The glass was secured."
From under her apron, Adeline reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of thick cream paper. It was sealed with dark blue wax. She set it down on the table beside Eleanor's tea.
Eleanor stared at the letter. Her old, bony fingers reached out, touching the blue wax seal with a subtle tremble. This was the document Camila Ashford had been searching for when she raided the study upstairs an hour earlier—a confidential codicil to the late Don's will that explicitly stripped the Ashford family of their claim to the Marchetti shipping ports if Camila failed to marry Enzo before her twenty-fifth birthday.
If Camila had found that letter, she would have destroyed it, securing her family's legal hold over the ports regardless of the marriage. But Adeline had spotted Camila creeping into Eleanor’s private anteroom during the party. Adeline had intercepted the document from the desk drawer just as Camila entered, hiding it inside a silver napkin tray. When Camila confronted her and demanded to inspect the tray, Adeline had deliberately dropped a glass of wine to create a distraction, allowing Bess to slip the letter out of the room.
Camila had flown into a rage over the ruined glass and dragged Adeline into the hall with the riding crop. And Adeline had taken the blows without revealing the letter hidden in her apron.
"Why didn't you give it to her?" Eleanor asked quietly, her eyes searching Adeline's face. "One word to my grandson, or one word to Camila, and you would have walked away without a single mark."
"I took a job in this house to earn a wage, Mrs. Marchetti," Adeline said softly. "And when I agreed to care for your quarters, I swore to keep your privacy. A maid who trades her employer's secrets to save her skin isn't a maid. She's a liability."
Eleanor let out a dry, quiet laugh that dissolved into a cough. "You're a fool, girl. A brave fool, but a fool nonetheless. In this house, loyalty doesn't buy you safety. It buys you an early grave."
"I am aware," Adeline said, stepping back and folding her hands behind her back. "Will there be anything else tonight, ma'am?"
"No," Eleanor said, looking down at the blue wax seal. "Go to the kitchen. Tell Mrs. Gable to give you the winter salve. And Adeline..."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Don't let my grandson see those marks again. He looks at things too closely, and he has a habit of tearing down walls until he finds the truth."
May you like
Adeline bowed her head slightly and turned toward the door. But as she opened it, she froze.
Standing in the dim doorway, leaning against the wooden frame with his arms crossed over his chest, was Enzo Marchetti.
