It’s nice to head back to my room and change before lunch, which is a relief when the morning began cold, so I wore a long-sleeve shirt. Now I’m so warm I’m sweating.
I throw together a chicken Caesar salad with homemade dressing and garlic bread croutons. It’s not long after that Mr. Castle returns with Mr. Edgewood’s plate and sets it down in front of me.
It looks like you’re settling in well.
-R
I take that to mean the food was good.
That afternoon, I finish up in the west wing. Next, I clean the tall windows that follow the stairs—with Mr. Castle’s help, who holds the ladder as I climb up. He mutters something about “liability.”
Luckily, I finish my task without falling, then move on to the east wing. I tell Mr. Castle I’ll clean his rooms tomorrow, and he bustles away to tidy up first.
For dinner, I cook blackened halibut with a spicy Cajun butternut squash, and while I’m feeling myself, I toss together a crumble with fresh blackberries that Mr. Castle picked up on a whim. After rifling through the rathergratuitous liquor cabinet, I put together another cocktail that’s a riff on a bourbon drink I once had. Then I send it all up with Mr. Castle and eagerly await Mr. Edgewood’s feedback.
The butler returns as I finish up cleaning and slides the plate across the counter.
Absolutely fantastic. You are a culinary wizard.
-R
I blush and tuck it in my pocket before adding the plate to the dishwasher.
Then, oddly, I have nothing else to do. I’d spent so long driving to and from the estate that now it’s only eight and I don’t need to be anywhere except my new room.
Hmm. I guess I’ll go get settled in.
Obviously, it’s only temporary here. As soon as I’ve saved up enough money, I’ll be getting an apartment of my own—if the weirdness of it doesn’t get to me first. I can’t possibly live at Edgewood Manor for the long term if I plan to work here, too. Besides, I’m sure Mr. Edgewood’s generosity will run out eventually.
When I arrive at my room, the door has a shiny new knob with a pair of keys hanging from it. It’s the lock that Mr. Castle promised me. When I go inside, the air is cozy and warm, as if someone turned up the thermostat while I was away. It’s a comfortable suite with a big bedroom, an attached study, a closet and a bathroom. I don’t have anything to fill the closet with, but it’s fun to walk in and spin around with my arms held wide, imagining that it’s mine, stuffed to the gills with warm winter sweaters and cute summer dresses.
I head into the bedroom thinking I’ll spend the evening reading but stop in the doorway. There’s a small pile of items sitting on the chest at the foot of the bed. I step closer, wondering what Mr. Castle’s left for me.
Wrapped in a red ribbon is a set of ivory silk pajamas with a subtle flower pattern. They’re perfectly soft and smooth, like milk. Beside the pajamas sit a pair of fluffy ivory slippers, and next to those, two hardcover books.
There’s a note on top.
I hope I am not overstepping, but I thought you might be more comfortable in these. I saw that you like to read, and so I’m lending you my two favorite novels of last year.
-R
How does he know that? But something about the fact he’s lending me the books, rather than giving them to me, feels better. I’m surprised by the pajamas—it’s such a sweet and welcoming gesture that I’m rather touched by it. It reminds me of Christmas Eve with my dad, when he always got us new matching pajamas.
Yes, Mr. Edgewood is strange, but there’s also a kindness in him that’s becoming evident to me. He should have fired me when he found me sleeping in the woods on his property, but instead, he took me in without reprimand.
I just hope that whatever he’s hiding isn’t something that could harm me later.
seven
. . .
peony
Dressed in my new pajamas, curled up under a big comforter with the heat set just right, I sleep like a just-born puppy. My dreams are fluffy like cotton candy clouds, and I wake up to find a gentle morning sun drifting in my window in long beams. I’m glad that Mr. Castle decided to put me on the south side of the house.
I’ve never spent much time outside the manor, mostly because it’s not in my job description and it’s been a chilly autumn so far. I haven’t even spent much time looking out the windows because Mr. Edgewood seems to prefer keeping the curtains drawn.
From my bedroom window, however, the expansive grounds sprawl behind the manor, and they’re a marvel. There are multiple gardens organized in semicircles, one with a koi pond so large there’s a bridge crossing over it. Manicured hedges surround the house, and two big hedgesculptures are growing along the border. A quaint brick pathway leads away from the manor, through the gardens and into the grass beyond, which has started browning. It continues until the forest takes over the landscape again, swallowing it up.
