Having picked up the medicine, Charlotte headed straight for Mistymoor Hall. Throughout her return, the doctor’s words circled incessantly in her mind, only ceasing once she arrived at the mansion.
She took the medicine she had collected to the maid’s room and handed it to Janice, who initially looked puzzled but soon smiled gently, as if something had occurred to her.
“Ah, it’s finally ready. Thank you.”
“Not at all. I should be the one thanking you. …How is mother?”
“She’s sleeping now. She seems to be getting better since your arrival.”
“That’s really good to hear.”
It was exactly as she said. Contrary to the doctor’s estimation that she had at most a month, Cynthia’s complexion was visibly improving day by day. Hans mentioned that she might even live a few more months. Charlotte hoped so too.
Sitting opposite her, Janice briefly set the medicine bottle aside and changed the topic.
“By the way, how do you find working with Sir Richard?”
“He treats me well. There’s nothing particularly hard or difficult.”
“That’s good to hear. Still…”
Janice, who looked pleased by the positive response, paused and closed her mouth for a moment.
“You do know not to misinterpret his kindness, right?”
“…”
“I know you’re not one to do so, but there are kids who sometimes plunge themselves into the abyss due to misunderstanding. …You’re not so young anymore, so I believe you understand.”
It was a deeply felt warning. The fate of maids who became overly close to their male employers was often grim. Once gossip began, they could not stay long in the mansion, and even if they managed to leave under decent circumstances, the lack of a character reference made finding another job almost impossible.
The outcome for those who couldn’t secure employment was all but certain. They would end up entering brothels, contracting syphilis and other venereal diseases, or, at the very end, starving or freezing to death in poorhouses.
Charlotte was all too familiar with such situations, having experienced something similar before. Strictly speaking, she hadn’t come here to work as a maid, but to others, there appeared to be little difference.
“Don’t worry about that, ma’am.”
“That’s a relief.”
As Charlotte quietly responded, lowering her eyes, Janice looked at her with an unreadable expression and handed her the medicine bottle.
“Actually, this medicine belongs to Sir Richard. Could you deliver it to him?”
It was an errand but perhaps also a test. Charlotte nodded and took the medicine.
Standing in front of the office, Charlotte took a deep breath. It took her a moment to place her hand on the doorknob and knock.
“It’s Charlotte, sir. Are you there?”
She spoke as she slowly opened the door, but no response came. Gathering her courage, she pushed the door open wider and entered.
Contrary to her expectations, the office was empty. Heavy curtains darkened the room despite it being broad daylight, though it wasn’t so dark that she couldn’t see.
“Excuse me…Sir Richard?”
As Charlotte called out and stepped forward, she noticed the office was as tidy as usual, suggesting the maid had cleaned it in the morning.
Charlotte was in charge of laundry but was skilled in various chores. She knew that curtains were usually drawn back when cleaning, which meant that Richard must have been working alone and quite possibly until just before.
Richard Kensington typically worked as a lawyer until before six o’clock on weekdays. He often met clients outside but usually entertained them in his private reception room or organized paperwork in his office.
Janice had mentioned that he didn’t work as a lawyer on weekends. Instead, he would either ride into town with the earl to meet others or visit Cloverfield alone to play cards or billiards with Felix.
Thus, it was odd for him to be working today since it was the weekend.
Charlotte moved further inside, her eyes settling on Richard’s desk. The documents were unusually disheveled, and an ink bottle had toppled over, its cap off and black ink leaking out. She hurriedly set it upright.
Just then, the sound of breaking glass rang out as if on cue. Charlotte’s body jolted in shock. Clearly, she was alone in the room. She glanced around and noticed that a door on the left wall, likely leading to a bedroom, was slightly ajar.
With a worried heart, Charlotte approached and knocked. As if the previous sound had been an illusion, no noise came from inside. Her palms were sweaty. She knocked once more and cautiously opened the door.
“This is Charlotte. I’m coming in.”
The room, engulfed in darkness like the office, seemed no different from a bedroom in any other mansion she had worked in before. Somehow reassured, she let out a sigh of relief.
Taking another step inside, Charlotte scanned the room. A king-sized bed came into view.
A hand peeked out from between the bed’s covers. Large and white, it seemed powerful enough to make veins protrude if clenched. Seeing that hand made Charlotte’s face flush with heat, recalling how it had covered her shoulder and embraced her waist the night before. She also remembered the breathing she had heard close to her ear.
“You do know not to misinterpret his kindness, right?”
Suddenly, Janice’s warning came back to her. Charlotte swallowed and spoke carefully.
“I’m here on an errand. Janice asked me to…”
Again, no response came. He appeared to be asleep. Thinking it best to place the medicine on the bedside table so he’d see it when he woke, she quietly moved towards it and was about to set down the medicine when a sharp pain suddenly overtook her.
“Ah…!”
Looking down, Charlotte realized that a sharp shard had embedded itself in her foot. A reflexive moan escaped her lips.
“Uh…”
It had to be the foot she had twisted. The piece seemed deeply embedded, bringing tears to her eyes. Just as her legs began to give out, a hand reached from behind her, enveloping her waist and pulling her onto the bed.
“Sir Richard?”
Caught off-guard, Charlotte sat on the bed and cried out his name. The hand then withdrew.
“…Janice.”
Lying under the covers up to his waist and with his eyes closed, Richard murmured the housekeeper’s name in a sleep-drenched voice. Before she could clarify that she wasn’t Janice, Richard spoke again.
“…The medicine.”
“What?”
“Give me the medicine.”
His voice was so dry it was almost cracking. Charlotte, barely pulling herself together, looked over to the table where she had just placed the medicine. She noticed a small glass she hadn’t seen before. Thinking she should pour the medicine into the glass, a remark she had heard when receiving the medicine suddenly flashed through her mind.
The doctor had definitely said it was a suppressant suitable for a ferocious hound.
No. There must be some mistake. It must have been just a way to describe the potency of the medicine.
Taking another deep breath, Charlotte reached for the bottle on the table. She calmly removed the cork from the bottle. Meanwhile, uncomfortable breathing came from behind her, and she sensed him trying to sit up.
“…”
Her hands trembled with tension, causing a few drops to fall on the back of her hand as she poured the medicine into the glass. The liquid felt unpleasantly cold and slimy.
“Here, please drink this.”
Finally regaining her composure, she handed him the half-filled glass. She kept her eyes down, not knowing where to look. Richard was shirtless. In the dim light, the outline of his abs was faintly visible. Charlotte felt her face grow hot.
“I’ll leave now…”
She hastily made a move to get up, feeling as if she were drowning in a river. Being near this man always evoked this overwhelming sensation. The stimulation was too intense. It was hard to breathe. She wanted to escape and catch her breath.
Then a voice from behind her said, “Wait.”
Before Charlotte could react, Richard swiftly grabbed her hand.
“Ow…!”
Startled like a rabbit in a trap, she barely regained her senses when his wet tongue touched the back of her hand. Her body stiffened as if venom was spreading through her veins.
It felt as if a wild dog was thoroughly licking the remnants off the hand that fed it. There was no sense of threat or aggression, yet it felt like sharp fangs would sink into her skin the moment she pulled her hand away.
She couldn’t move at all, only holding her breath, waiting for whatever was on her hand to be gone.
It was only moments later that her hand was released.
“It’s strange. I smell blood on you. It shouldn’t be time to feed yet.”
“…”
“Did the Earl say I’m a mad beast who needs to be fed early?”
Richard licked the last traces with a greedy fervor, his tone casual yet authoritative, unlike how he addressed Charlotte. He seemed not fully awake yet.
His words sent a chill down Charlotte’s neck, snapping her suddenly blurry mind into sharp focus. She couldn’t understand what he meant, but she instinctively knew these were words she shouldn’t have heard.
I shouldn’t be here. I mustn’t be caught.
Desperately shaking off his hand, Charlotte limped away from his territory. With each step, the glass shard in her foot dug deeper, but she couldn’t stop.
She clasped her hands together, desperately trying to stifle the breath that threatened to burst forth. Barely making it to the door, Charlotte opened it just as someone stood on the other side.
“Why are you here?”
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