Chapter 3
Downstairs, the atmosphere in the sprawling, industrial-sized kitchen was thick with nervous tension. The two young maids who had supported Margaret earlier—Clara and Hannah—were hurriedly washing porcelain plates at the deep stainless-steel sink, the sound of rushing water providing a frantic background rhythm to their whispered conversation.
"Did you see the look on her face when she hit the floor?" Hannah whispered, glancing nervously toward the swinging double doors that led to the main hallway. "I thought she was going to scream the house down. Instead, she just stared at Mr. Vance like a ghost."
"She deserved it," Clara replied firmly, scrubbing a stubborn stain off a silver spoon. "Treating Mrs. Vance the way she did... making her kneel just because she wanted to sit in her own chair. It’s monstrous. I was terrified Mr. Julian wouldn't do anything. We’ve all been walking on eggshells for eighteen months."
The kitchen door pushed open quietly, and Marcus, the head chef who had served the Vance family for over three decades, stepped inside. He wiped his flour-dusted hands on a white kitchen towel, his expression grim.
"Keep your voices down," Marcus instructed quietly, though his tone was not unkind. "The Vance household is going through a seismic shift right now. Whatever happens upstairs between Mr. Julian and Madam Evelyn will dictate every single one of our jobs. Do not take sides openly, but remember who pays your wages and who has kept this estate running with decency."
"We know where our loyalty is, Marcus," Clara said, looking up with earnest eyes. "We support Mrs. Margaret. Always have."
"Good," Marcus nodded, walking over to inspect a tray of freshly baked pastries intended for the evening tea service. "Because Evelyn has spent the last year planting her own people in the lower staff. There are whispers that she’s been keeping a separate ledger in the East Wing office—financial records that don't match the corporate audits."
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Hannah dropped a small saucer into the sink, the sharp clatter making both Marcus and Clara wince. "A separate ledger? What kind of records?"
"Embezzlement, tax evasion, or worse," Marcus said grimly. "Evelyn wasn't just trying to take over the house; she was draining the estate dry to fund her private investments overseas. Mr. Julian is about to discover that the financial damage goes far deeper than a fallen chair."
