The Man In The Mirror

At the sound of voices beyond, she turned to see who was approaching, and I took advantage of her distraction. The moment she turned back I captured her lips in mine.

Her moan was instant. And the shot of pleasure to my groin was unmistakable. I shifted uncomfortably at the stiffening of my cock. My hand slid into her skirt just before the sound of heavy footsteps approached. I pulled away from her and couldn’t help smiling at her. There were stars in her eyes and just like me she couldn’t look away.

Until Mr. Boothsworth cleared his throat.

I turned at the interruption.

There was a strange expression on his face. “Madam is here,” he announced, just before my wife appeared at the entrance to the dining room. She was dressed unusually casually in a pair of jeans and a green top, but she killed the effect by loading up on jewelry.

For the longest time she stared at the both of us and I boldly held her gaze. I was annoyed to say the least. I had told her to finish her rehab course. There was no need to return, but of course, she had to immediately disregard any sane advice.

Charlotte instantly began to rise from her chair, but I shot out an arm and placed it on hers. She sat back down.

Jillian stared at my hold on Charlotte’s arm with an incredulous gaze. She didn’t say a word, and only turned when Zackary and Mrs. Blackmore came into the room with the dessert. He was as careful with the little cake as he was with everything else, but when he realized his mother was there he immediately stood to attention. The smile was wiped from his face and he stared up at his mother as if he was uncertain whether he should go to her.

“Madam.” Mrs. Blackmore bowed in greeting.

Jillian turned her gaze to Zackary.

“Mummy,” he eventually called out.

“Come to me,” she ordered in a shrill voice.

Mrs. Blackmore relieved the plate from the boy and he ran to his mother and hugged her legs, but it was an unnatural gesture. She turned to look at Charlotte, her mouth tightening again. “Why are you not wearing your glasses?”

“I don’t wear them all the time,” Charlotte replied.

Slowly, Jillian roved her gaze around the room, and then finally settled it on me. “What’s going on?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

My response was simple. “This is my house.” And it held the answers to all her questions.

I saw the realization dawn in her eyes, and almost smiled with satisfaction. Finally, she knew what it felt like to watch the other person bring their lover to the house. She patted Zackary's head, and turning around walked away without another word.

Chapter 47

Charlotte

Over the next two days, I tried my very best to steer clear of Jillian, however the same courtesy was not extended back to me.

Before her return, I could count the number of times I personally had any interactions with her, but in the wake of her return she made it her goal to be more present and involved in every aspect of the household’s affairs.

With exception of Mr. Boothsworth, who seemed to be particularly unaffected by Mrs. King’s obtrusive presence, the rest of the staff seemed to be on high alert as we tiptoed about with our duties.

I was overseeing the packaging of a picnic lunch for Mrs. King and Zackary to take on an afternoon away, when Bella and Carrie walked into the kitchen.

Mrs. Blackmore and I both lifted our heads from the tarts and fruit we were packing. Carrie came over to the tray of flapjacks sitting in the middle of the table. She pulled out a chair quietly and almost whispered to Mrs. Blackmore. “Can I have one of these?”

Mr. Boothsworth plopped his empty mug of tea on the desk. The jarring sound made us all jump and we gave him a questioning look.

“What is happening?” he asked, his voice unusually loud, or maybe we were all just unusually quiet, we couldn’t tell anymore.

“What do you mean?” Mrs. Blackmore responded.

“The entire household seems to be walking on egg shells. Am I missing something?”

“Lower your voice,” Mrs. Blackmore muttered.

He frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“Mrs. King has been strange since she returned and it gives me the hebe jeebies.”

“How so?” Mr. Boothsworth asked, not as familiar with the intricacies of women’s ways.

“She doesn’t go out as much anymore,” Mrs. Blackmore answered, “and she seems unusually quiet. It’s like the calm before the storm.”

“Not quiet,” Carrie corrected, “Watchful. I swear I feel as though I’m about to get fired at any moment.”

“Me too,” Bella added from her stance by the refrigerator as she drank some fruit infused water. “What surprises me the most is how much time she is now spending with Zackary. She put him to bed last night, Charlotte, did she not? And now today they’re heading out for the afternoon, picnic basket and all. I’ve worked here for two years and this has never happened. The woman hates the outdoors. She brought the house down because of a spider in her room.”

“She’s also been lurking around a lot near the Master’s wing. I don’t know what she’s doing there,” Mrs. Blackmore added with a sigh. “The last time I nearly died of fright when I went in there to check on the towels and she was behind the door. I swear I feel like I'm going to pass out from all the tension. Thank God, Mr. King has gone away for a few days to France, or my poor nerves will never be able to settle down.”

“Charlotte what about you?” Mr. Boothsworth called when I remained silent. “Do you also think Madam is behaving strangely?”

I didn’t know what to say. Brett wanted to take me with him to France, but I knew it was the wrong time. I didn’t want to give her a chance to poison the boy so I stayed, but I almost wish I had gone. Especially now with everyone looking at me for an answer. Luckily for me, Carrie saved me from having to answer that loaded question.

“Charlotte seems to be the luckiest,” Carrie said. “By spending so much time with Zackary, Madam has cut her workload in half, while the rest of us are using a magnifying glass to polish the floors.” She turned to me and pouted to show that she did not mean the rest of her words. “I envy you.”

“I don’t think so,” Bella refuted. “Somehow I feel as though this is all hugely centered around Charlotte. I haven’t actually seen her speak to Charlotte since she returned. She’s been passing out instructions through everyone else. Do you think that she is upset because you somehow got Zackary close to his father again?”

“That is true,” Mrs. Blackmore said slowly. “All this started when she came back and found him at dinner with Zackary and Charlotte.”

Everybody turned to look at me and I could feel the color burn up my throat until the shrill of the intercom rang right then through the room. Everyone jumped, especially me. At first no one moved, then Mr. Boothsworth muttered, “Talk of the devil,” and got up to answer it. We all listened to her cold voice come through. When the call ended, he turned to us. We all stared at each other, some of us, not me, had silent fright in our eyes.

“You hear

d her,” he said. “She wants us all in the drawing room.”

We all trooped into the exquisite drawing room where I had arrived for my interview. So much had happened since then. It felt almost as if that was a different person. I looked around the room remembering the wariness I had felt.

“Is something funny, Charlotte?” Jillian asked.

I turned to meet her gaze. “No, there isn’t.” I could feel the other staff exchanging peculiar looks with each other.

She went straight to the point. “My emerald bracelet is missing.”

I didn't think it was possible for the room to become quieter, but it did. Everyone froze.

Jillian went on. “I was away for a little while so that’s probably when—”

Mr. Boothsworth spoke up. “Madam, I’ll review the security footage and handle this myself.”

“No, Barnaby,” she said coldly. “I’ll handle this myself. I don’t want to waste time and I won’t house a thief a moment longer than necessary. I’ve sent some of the security guards from our London offices to all your rooms to investigate. We should be able to figure out the truth very soon.”

All our mouths dropped open in shock. She had sent strangers into our rooms without telling us, without having us there to see what they were doing with our private stuff. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. I think I already knew what the outcome of this ‘search’ was going to be. Around me people shifted, but I did not move. I just stared at her. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. She opened a book and started reading it.