A Lady Of Rooksgrave Manor Novels & Stories

As the details of Lord Haverstone’s will unfolded, the room grew increasingly tense. The glamorous woman, who introduced herself as Vivienne, was apparently Haverstone’s niece and seemed poised to inherit a considerable fortune. Her sharp, calculating smile deepened as her name was called, though her eyes flickered toward the other guests, as if assessing the competition. The man in tweed, who went by Dr. Alistair Crane, claimed a distant familial connection and had been promised a collection of rare artifacts. His expression remained stoic, but his knuckles whitened as he gripped the armrest of his chair. The teenager, Jamie, was an unknown variable—introduced simply as “a guest of special

She was walking towards him, probably coming from the restroom. “Two days ago.” His answer was bland and straightforward; no how-are-you or good-morning of sorts. “I see,” Romaine said as she inched closer, leaning towards Eku as if to give him a kiss. In a reflex action, Eku jerked his head away slowly. “You have a visitor,” she whispered, then gave Visenna’s husband a snake smile. “Dr. Eku Mazari Zadzisai, meet Lady Nyra Ravenwood, a Norwegian countess.”

--- Blackwood Mansion – Late Afternoon The conservatory roof was imbibing the final blushing shade of day. Dust sparkled in rays of golden light on creeping ivy and wilted orchids—flowers that were once loved and cared for, now abandoned and allowed to die under the cloak of grandeur. Blackwood Mansion was a master of deception. It concealed its rot beneath jewels. Leya moved down the east hall, an armload of clean laundry, hands raw from scrubbing floors that morning. Her sleeves were wet. Her back ached. But she did not complain.

But her legs moved on their own, carrying her deeper into the mansion. Her mind spun. The walls were closing in, and yet some Chapter 15 They marched her down a long hall that smelled like money and smoke. Thick rugs. Oil paintings. A chandelier that glowed like a small sun. Her heart wouldn’t slow. She kept her chin up anyway. A woman waited by a carved door. Mid-forties, elegant in black silk, hair pinned smooth. “I’m Rosa,” she said softly. “House manager. I’ll take care of you.” Her eyes flicked to the guards. “You can go.”

His words caught in his throat. He paused, then pushed open the bathroom door. Still, no sign of me. His expression twisted, anger burning deeper now. Just as he stepped out of the room, Becky Liddle, the housekeeper, rushed toward him in a panic. "Sir, Madam hasn't returned since the day you took her away. We've tried calling, but the phone doesn't go through. Do you think something might have happened to her?" Mickey's brows drew together. A flicker of concern flashed in his eyes—but in the next second, it vanished behind his usual cold detachment.

She handed him the tablet. He studied the screen, then his jaw hardened. “It’s not them.” “Who is it?” I asked. He turned the screen toward us. A single woman stood outside the rear gate wearing a dark coat, one hand resting on the intercom camera. She looked elegant, composed, and entirely unbothered by armed security surrounding the property. My breath caught. I knew that face. “No way.” Slate came to stand beside me. “Well,” he said softly. “This just got entertaining.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Lockwood.” “You don’t have to call me that. Just Wren.” “Oh, I know,” she said with a grin and a giggle. “It’s just fun to call you that.” She made me laugh a little with that, and I sighed with relief. It was the first time I got to look at her. She wore the same kind of business casual clothes as Julia—skirt, nice shirt, and sometimes a sweater or blazer. Maybe in her mid-twenties, she looked like any girl at my old school. She was pretty, with shoulder-length brown hair that had a small wave.

My eyes are ringed with soft charcoal black, my lashes accentuated with heavy mascara my lips coated with a deep red, making my makeup look edgy as well as complementary. I don’t wear makeup, or dress up in gowns or heels that are spiked, but it’s a party. I think it's fitting that I chose to look like this, a dark feminine look because of the theme. I am going to be delivering some people to their early deaths tonight. I am the royals of Ridgewood's perfect date. I can feel my dear old friend, I haven’t been acquainted with him for a long time. The thrill of knowing that I am going to be clearing names off my list, the very ones on the top.

I smiled at how ingenious it was. I remembered an article that I read about some museums exhibiting fake paintings due to the missing originals. Who knew millions of dollars worth of artworks were on some island? A beautiful girl dressed in a latex maid outfit and collar approached us. She could not have been over twenty-five. "Welcome back Lady Croft, may I take the coats of the guest?" The maid said. Elizabeth barely acknowledged the maid. She just nodded and headed for the living room room. The latex-clad maid took our coats and hung them on a wooden hanger placed a few feet from the large fireplace.

Butch and Eve arrived at the castle, they got down from the carriage and entered into the castle. Ellie who has never been to the castle before was surprised at the way the building walls were decorated with marbles. Despite how surprised she was, she managed to keep it to herself to avoid disgracing herself. They walked forward and entered the building when suddenly she heard a woman called out to Butch, she was walking down the stairs. "Butch, what are you doing here? We're not expecting to see you today? Have you brought a new one?" The head maid asked, noticing a girl behind him.