Chapter 4 : Celia  'A Dangerous Kind of Hope'

The next morning, breakfast was different.

I entered the dining room expecting the same dry toast, the same silence, the same elegant dismissal that had wrapped around me since arriving in the Lancaster house.

Instead, there was warm tea at my place. Eggs, buttered toast and fresh fruit too.

I stopped for half a second before taking my seat.

Vivian noticed, of course. Her gaze slid to the plate in front of me, then to Adrian. He sat three chairs away, reading the financial pages like the world around him did not exist. 

My fingers tightened around the cup.

Eleanor noticed too. A soft, knowing smile brushed her face before she lifted her own tea.

Breakfast ended with Vivian reminding me again about the charity tea tomorrow. Adrian rose from the table, collected his files, and walked out. Yet as he passed behind my chair, he paused just long enough to murmur, "The stew was decent."

Decent? He was actually complimenting my food. 

The afternoon found me in the sunroom with Eleanor, helping her sort through a velvet-lined case of old jewelry and heirloom brooches. The room was bright and airy, filled with potted orchids and thin streams of sunlight. It was the gentlest room in the entire estate.

"You have gentle hands," Eleanor observed as I cleaned an emerald pin with a soft cloth.

I smiled faintly. "I used to help restore trims and beadwork at Rowan Textiles."

Her expression softened. "A useful skill. And rarer than people think."

We worked in silence for a while when voices suddenly screamed coming from the hall.

Vivian and Adrian.

"...boundaries in this house..."

"...Mother, this is hardly a crisis..."

"...I won't have carelessness mistaken for permission..."

Eleanor sighed lightly. "Guess Vivian is at it again."

I looked up, unsure whether to answer. I never got the chance.

I was still thinking about that when her hand suddenly went to her chest, the cloth slipping from her fingers.

"Grandmother? Grandmother?"

Her face drained of color so fast it frightened me.

By the time the chair gave away beneath her, I was already moving, catching her before she could hit the floor.

"Adrian!" I screamed, my voice louder than its ever been. "Get in here now!"

The menacing argument in the hall died instantly.

Adrian reached us first, Vivian right behind him.

Everything after that moved fast.

I lowered Eleanor carefully to the carpet, loosened the collar of her blouse, and checked her pulse with trembling fingers. It was there, but weak enough to make panic flash down my spine.

"Call the doctor," I ordered the nearest maid but none of them moved.

Adrian did. His phone already in his hand. "Doctor Haines. Immediately."

Vivian knelt on Eleanor's other side, all her usual polished cracking. "Mother? Mother, open your eyes."

"Keep talking to her," I urged. "Don't stop."

Maybe it was the tone or urgency but Vivian actually obeyed.

The doctor arrived within minutes and insisted Eleanor be taken to the hospital for monitoring. The drive blurred. I sat in the back beside Eleanor, holding her hand, while Adrian handled calls.

At the hospital, the waiting began.

It was strange how helpless wealthy people looked in things money couldn't control. Vivian paced. Adrian stood by the window with one hand braced on the frame. Nurses moved in and out. Machines beeped somewhere down the corridor.

When a nurse came asking for Eleanor's medications, Vivian faltered.

I answered before I could stop myself. "Blue velvet case, left bedside drawer. Blood pressure tablets in silver foil. The dosage card is beneath them."

The nurse nodded and rushed off.

Both Adrian and Vivian looked at me. 

"How do you know that?" Vivian asked.

"I helped her organize them yesterday."

That was all, yet I could feel something change in her face.

An hour later, the doctor returned with the news that Eleanor was stable. It was just stress and low blood pressure, nothing immediately life-threatening. She needed rest, monitoring, and less strain.

Relief nearly made my knees buckle.

Vivian finally agreed to go home and change before returning. That left Adrian and me alone outside Eleanor's room. It was then I finally noticed how cold I was. I had left the house without a coat, and the hospital air-conditioning cut straight through my dress. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying not to shiver.

Seems Adrian noticed, without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

I froze, the warmth and the clean scent of him wrapping around me. When I looked up, he was already facing forward again like the gesture meant nothing.

"You'll get sick," he muttered.

I pulled the jacket closer. "Thank you."

A few seconds passed before he spoke again."You handled that well."

It took me a moment to realize he meant Eleanor and I couldn't help staring down at the floor. "I only did what anyone would."

"No." His gaze slid to me. "Not everyone would."

That tiny bit of honesty lodged somewhere dangerous inside my chest. By the time we returned to the estate, it was nearly midnight.

A housekeeper met us in the foyer carrying a red box. "Mrs. Eleanor asked me to give this to you once you came back."

Confused, I opened it. Inside lay an emerald brooch shaped like curling leaves, old, exquisite and impossibly beautiful.

My breath caught. "I can't take this."

The housekeeper smiled. "Her exact words were, 'Give it to the girl with the gentle hands.'"

Well that was indeed what she called me.

Before I could answer, Vivian stepped into the foyer. Her eyes dropped to the brooch.Then to me.

For the first time since my wedding, I saw something dangerously close to alarm pass across her face. A soft sound came from the staircase above and I turned.

Sienna stood there, one hand on the banister, her gaze locked on the emerald in my palm.The smile slowly vanished from her lips.

"What the hell is going here?”