Page 17 of Firethorne
“Thank you. That’s nice of you to say,” I told him, edging away from him, back into the thick of the woods behind me, suddenly feeling embarrassed that I was standing out here in ratty, old slippers.
“My pleasure. I’m just speaking the truth.” He bowed. “I hope your day gets better.” Then he smiled and turned to walk away, heading in the same direction as Damien. “And ignore my brother,” he called over his shoulder. “He lives for makingothers feel uncomfortable. But I think even he draws the line at torturing small animals. I don’t think he’d have it in him to torment you to that extent. My guess is Beresford set some traps and you got unlucky this morning, stumbling upon that one.”
“Very unlucky,” I whispered in response, but he didn’t hear me. He was already out of earshot.
DamienfuckingFirethorne.
I’d bet there were no limits that a man like Damien Firethornewouldn’tgo to so he could torment someone like me.
I’d had two messages now, warning me about this family. I needed to place more bricks on that wall around myself and my father.
Trust no one.
They’re all liars here.
But despite everything, I had to admit, Lysander was starting to grow on me. He’d offered to walk me back to the cabin. Told me he’d get rid of the rat, and he’d speak to Mrs Richardson to explain why I might be a little late. All Damien had done was blow smoke in my face and smirk at me like a fucking devil.
If I had to trust anyone in this godforsaken place, I know which one I’d choose.
Chapter Eight
Maya
Iran back to the cabin, quickly changed and put on my boots, ready to face my first day. And what a first day it was shaping up to be.
As I sprinted on the gravel path that ran around the perimeter of the manor house, heading towards the front doors, I saw Beresford, the driver from the night before, standing in front of me. His face was screwed up, and his sneer grew deeper and more pronounced the faster I approached.
“And where are you going?” he snapped, holding up his hand to stop me in my tracks.
I halted, the gravel sliding under my boots as I did, and my face flushed as I replied, “It’s my first day. I’m here to work.” I gestured to the house, but he just tutted in response.
“Not through the front door you’re not. The service entrance is around the back. That’s where staff like you are permitted to enter.” And he circled his finger in a patronising way in front of me, to tell me to turn around and go.
I spun around, stomping away from him as I muttered under my breath, “You’re staff too, mate. No need to act like your shit don’t stink.”
I was sure I’d been quiet enough, but when he shouted, “And you’ll find language like that is best used in the privacy of your lodgings. We have standards to uphold at Firethorne,” I couldn’t help it; my middle finger shot up of its own accord, standing proud in the air as I faced forward and strode off. I’d probably get into trouble for it later, but in the heat of the moment, I didn’t care. I’d had more than enough encounters with rats this morning. I didn’t need another one.
I walked to the other side of the manor house, stopping when I came to a small wooden door. It was open, and I could hear the sound of pots and pans clanking around inside. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, and I knew this was the service entrance he wanted me to use. I took a deep breath, nerves kicking in a little as my stomach rolled. But I straightened my shoulders, standing taller as I stepped over the threshold and took the small staircase to where all the noise was coming from.
At the top of the staircase was another open door, and I crept through it, into a large kitchen where a woman with her back to me was bending over, rifling through a cupboard and humming to herself.
“Hello,” I said quietly, not wanting to startle her. “I’m Maya. I’m here to start work today.”
Hearing my voice made her shoot upright and then spin around to face me. She smiled so wide that I couldn’t help but smile back at her.
“Maya!” she exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve heard so much about you. I’m so glad you’ll be working down here with me.”
Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, and the nerves that’d swarmed and stung my belly eased a little at how warm she was.She put the saucepan she was holding down onto the counter and walked over to me, her arm outstretched to shake my hand; then she thought better of it and grabbed me into a hug I wasn’t expecting. When she pulled away from me, she kept a hold of the tops of my arms and said, “I’m Mrs Richardson, but you can call me Cora.” She rubbed my arms, then let hers drop to her sides as she stood still, smiling and watching me.
“Thank you. I’m Maya,” I repeated, my nerves making me a little tongue-tied.
“You’ll be fine here. Please don’t be nervous,” she said, reading me like a book.
Cora Richardson came across as a homely woman. Late forties, maybe early fifties, with short dark hair, a round, ruddy, but utterly charming and friendly face, and her aura felt good, positive. Like no one I’d met here at Firethorne since I’d arrived, apart from Lysander, perhaps. He always had the same sunshine following him around. But with Cora, there was an honesty and truth about her. She was the kind of woman you warmed to instantly, and that’s what she was doing right now, making me feel warm and welcome.
“Take a seat.” She gestured to a stool near the island in the middle of the kitchen. “Can I get you a coffee? It’s always a good idea to start your working day with a decent cup of coffee.” She began arranging cups with milk and sugar onto a silver tray, but I shook my head.
“That’s really kind of you, but no. Honestly, I’m fine. But thank you.” I glanced around the kitchen, then hopped off my stool and headed over to the hob, where a frying pan of bacon was sizzling. I picked up a spatula nearby and went to turn them over so they wouldn’t burn, but Cora stalked over to me and took the spatula out of my hand.
