Chapter 2
Julian turned his back on Eleanor, gesturing for Clara to follow him down the dimly lit corridor toward his private study. The afternoon light filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting long, distorted pools of crimson and amber across the Persian rugs. Clara hesitated, her hand instinctively flying to cover the locket against her chest as if she feared Julian might snatch it away. Yet, she moved because she had no other choice. In this house, obedience was survival, but today, survival felt increasingly tied to a dangerous truth waiting to be uncovered.
Eleanor trailed closely behind them, her silk skirt rustling with every deliberate step. "This is absurd, Julian. We have guests arriving for dinner in less than three hours, and you are entertaining the whims of a dishonest domestic? Fire her. Throw her out into the rain. It is what she deserves for raising a hand against the mistress of this estate."
Julian stopped at the heavy mahogany door of his study, turning slowly to face his wife. His expression was an unreadable mask of cool detachment. "Go to the drawing room, Eleanor. I will handle this."
"I am not going anywhere," Eleanor snapped, her voice rising an octave before she reined it back in, remembering her dignity. "That girl lied about the attack, and now you’re humoring her over some cheap trinket. What is wrong with you?"
"The locket is not cheap, Eleanor," Julian said quietly, pushing the door open. "And I intend to find out why it looks identical to the one my sister wore the night she disappeared twenty years ago."
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The air in the hallway seemed to drop ten degrees. Eleanor’s face drained of color, the rich green of her dress suddenly looking harsh against her pale skin. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. For a fraction of a second, the formidable, elegant woman looked cornered. But the mask returned just as quickly, replaced by a tight, defensive smile that didn't reach her eyes. She stepped past them into the study, sitting stiffly in the wingback chair by the fireplace, signaling silently that she would not be excluded from whatever reckoning was about to take place.
Clara entered hesitantly, her eyes darting around the vast room lined with leather-bound books and heavy oak furniture. This was the room Eleanor claimed Clara had been snooping in, though the truth was far more complicated than a simple theft. Julian closed the heavy door behind them, shutting out the rest of the world. He walked over to his mahogany desk, placed the riding crop down gently, and motioned for Clara to sit in the small chair opposite him. She declined with a slight shake of her head, preferring to stand her ground near the towering bookshelves.
