Chapter 4 - The Order of the House
By sunrise, news of the incident in the hallway had spread through every corner of the Marchetti estate.
In the servants' mess hall beneath the kitchen, low whispers filled the air over pots of black coffee and coarse bread. Cook Mrs. Gable, a broad woman with flour-dusted arms, slammed a cast-iron skillet onto the stove, glare sweeping across the young scullery maids.
"Back to work, all of you!" Mrs. Gable barked. "The floor needs scrubbing, and the master expects breakfast at seven sharp!"
Adeline sat at the end of the long wooden table, applying a thick green salve to her forearms before wrapping them tightly in fresh linen strips. Bess sat beside her, nervously folding clean aprons.
"Is it true?" Bess whispered, leaning in close. "Ambrose said Master Enzo reassigned you. You're not on floor duty anymore."
Adeline paused, tying the knot on her bandage. "I haven't spoken to Ambrose this morning."
Before Bess could reply, heavy footsteps echoed down the wooden stairs. Ambrose stepped into the mess hall, holding a brass tray with a key and a small silver bell.
"Adeline Croft," Ambrose announced, his formal voice cutting through the kitchen clatter.
Adeline stood up immediately. "Yes, Mr. Ambrose?"
"By order of Master Marchetti, your duties on the lower floors are concluded," Ambrose said, setting the brass tray on the table. "You have been appointed personal steward to the study and the master's private quarters."
The kitchen went dead silent. Mrs. Gable stopped stirring her pot. The scullery maids stared with wide eyes.
To be personal steward to Enzo Marchetti meant stepping directly into the nerve center of the family's operations. It was a position held only by senior staff who had proven their absolute discretion over decades.
"Mr. Ambrose," Adeline said quietly, "I have only been here eleven days. Camila—Miss Ashford—will not approve of this."
Ambrose’s face remained an unreadable mask of polished marble. "Miss Ashford does not assign household staff. Master Marchetti does. You will report to the second-floor library at eight o'clock." He leaned in slightly, his tone lowering so only Adeline could hear. "Be careful, child. The master's study holds more than books. Do not look at what you are not meant to see."
"I know how to keep my eyes down, Mr. Ambrose," Adeline said softly.
"I hope so," Ambrose replied. "For your sake."
At eight o'clock precisely, Adeline climbed the grand staircase to the second floor. The library was a massive two-story room lined with mahogany shelves holding thousands of leather-bound volumes, expensive oil paintings of former Marchetti bosses, and a massive velvet sofa set near a marble fireplace.
Standing at the far end of the room by the floor-to-ceiling window was Enzo. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, dark trousers, and no jacket. He held a cup of black coffee in one hand and a stack of financial ledgers in the other.
"You're on time," Enzo said without turning around.
"I am always on time, sir," Adeline replied, standing near the doorway.
Enzo turned around, setting his coffee cup down on the wide mahogany desk. He looked at her simple gray dress, noting the white linen bandages peeking out from under her cuffs.
"Your duties here are simple," Enzo said, walking toward her. "You will manage the correspondence in this room, maintain the fire, and ensure no one enters this study without my explicit permission. That includes Miss Ashford."
Adeline looked up, meeting his eyes. "You are asking me to stand against your fiancée, Mr. Marchetti."
"I am asking you to do your job," Enzo corrected quietly. "Camila will be moving into the west wing next week prior to the wedding. She will attempt to search this room for papers regarding her family's shipping lines."
Adeline’s heart beat slightly faster, but her face remained calm. "And if she demands entry?"
May you like
Enzo stepped closer, stopping just a foot away from her. The scent of cedar and morning air settled between them.
"Tell her," Enzo whispered, leaning down slightly, "that the door is locked by my authority. And if she tries to use a crop again... tell her I keep a key in my desk that opens every secret in her father's safe."
