Hazel spent the rest of day with her mind drifting placing. she sighed and decided to put it all behind her. continue her chores. soon it was dusk. and dinner was to be prepared.
The ladies were busy in the kitchen. when they heard clicking sound moving towards the kitchen. It was rose.
she wore a seductive red dress with long red heels. she stood at the entrance of the kitchen posed in a seductive way.
The ladies looked at her astonished.
"you better go change before Mr Brown or Mr stern sees you" Mira spoke.
"That will be a good thing right?" rose bodily replied with a wink.
But Mira shook her head at her.
Soon dinner was ready and rose who came down stairs in a simple yet short seductive attire offered to send the the meal to Mr stern.
The ladies gave each other knowing looks, they thought it was a bad idea for her to do that in that dress.
But rose chuckled and insisted that she takes the food herself. They had no choice but to give in.
Hazel looked at rose's back as she walked away carrying the tray. for some reason she felt uneasy.
Hazel was tired and decided to go to bed.
upon reaching the room she closed the door with a soft click, the sound muffled by the thick rug beneath her feet. The room, though simple, was her sanctuary. A large, neatly made bed, a dresser with a large mirror, and a window overlooking the sprawling gardens of the manor – it was enough. It was hers. But tonight, the familiar comfort felt… different.
She'd been going over Mr. stern's words all evening. The look on his face, his intense gaze. The way he said her name...
She'd never heard him say her name before. how he said her name..... It was just… Hazel. A name. But the way it had rolled off his tongue earlier, the slight pause after it, the almost hesitant quality… it had sent a strange flutter through her stomach. A warmth that spread quickly, leaving her feeling both flustered and strangely exhilarated.
She sat on the edge of her bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. What was happening to her? She was a maid. He was her master. There was a vast chasm of social standing between them, a chasm she'd never even considered crossing. And yet…
She thought of his eyes again, the way they'd lingered on her for a moment longer than usual. She thought of the almost imperceptible softening of his features. Was she imagining things? Was she reading too much into a simple warning?
She knew she should dismiss it. It was probably just the stress. She was being foolish.
And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. Something small, almost invisible, but undeniably there. The way he'd said her name… it was a small thing, a whisper in the grand symphony of the manor, but it resonated within her, a tiny, persistent hum that refused to be silenced.
She rose and walked to the window, gazing out at the moonlit gardens. The manicured lawns, the perfectly trimmed hedges, the silent, watchful statues – it all seemed to hold its breath,.
Hazel sighed. She knew her place. She would be in the shadows, ensuring everything ran smoothly, unseen, unheard. But tonight, something had changed. Tonight, the weight of her name, spoken in a certain way, had stirred something within her. And she knew, with a certainty that both thrilled and terrified her, that things would never quite be the same.