Novel House Hampstead Novels & Stories

POV: Lena Moretti The new house was on a tree-lined street in a neighborhood where nobody cared about the Crane name because nobody here moved in those circles. Three stories. Red brick. A front porch with room for two chairs. A kitchen with windows that let in actual sunlight, which I'd forgotten was a thing that kitchens could do after months in safe houses and cottages and the perpetual twilight of The Obsidian. Ezra found it. Or rather, Dominic found it and Ezra approved it and Naomi vetted the security profile and I made the final decision because that was how we operated now. My call. My approval. The house that would become ours needed to feel like mine first.

"I'm just so devastated. I just got dumped, and Isla is being so cruel to me. I feel like I want to die." Hannah shot me a venomous glare as she came out of the break room. "Picking on a newbie—real classy. What goes around comes around." … I purposely worked late until eight. When I packed up to leave, I realized my house keys were missing. I searched every drawer and my bag—nothing. I figured I'd call the property manager and a locksmith once I got home. When I reached my door, I noticed it was cracked open—unlocked. My heart sank. A bad feeling washed over me.

I bark, realizing my tone might be harsher than it needs to be. Emma stops at the bottom of the stairs of the two-story Hamptons house. It’s larger than some of the other places I’ve been to here, but it still holds a lot of charm. There’s a small sidewalk to the left that leads right to a white picket fence. Behind it, you can see the smallest glimpse of a pool and a guesthouse tucked into the backyard. This is a really nice place, and I haven’t even seen the inside yet.

I'll be slow, hoping he comes berging in impatiently because he thinks I'm taking too long. I change into the dress. Exactly ten minutes later, his knock comes. I open the door and Alex's eyes takes the figure of me in. I sense him hold his breath. “What'd you think?” I ask, resisting the urge to twirl. He swallows. “It's . . . beautiful.” I turn my face away and shut the door. The address Hester gave us turns out to be a private estate on the eastern edge of the city. It's a large house lit from within, cars are arranged along the paved drive in rows. Classic music is floating in the air.

The doors behind me closed with a quiet but final sound that made my chest tighten. I had seen large houses before. But this wasn't it. It was an empire . Hawthorne House was nothing like the places I had cleaned before. The floor beneath my shoes wasn't tile or cheap wood,it was polished white marble that reflected the towering chandeliers . The walls were lined with towering columns and oil paintings framed in gold. Everything looked pristine, untouched like dust was too afraid to settle . I felt like I had accidentally wandered into a place I didn't belong. Everything gleamed.

Yet, there was only this one house as far as her eye could see. She had always heard that the houses in this affluent neighborhood were grand and stunning, but she never expected the vast distances between them. Nestled among mountains and water, the house felt like paradise. Despite her experience working as a housekeeper for wealthy families before, Amy had never come across such a breathtaking home. Besides, she found that this house's mistress was just as captivating. Amy anxiously clutched the hem of her clothes and murmured, "I think… I'm at the right place." She quickly added, "Mr. Zales told me to come here."

Hope was entranced, her little face pressed against the window as she pointed out sheep, stone walls, and the occasional highland cow. As we rounded a bend in the road, the Hamilton estate came into view. My breath caught in my throat. It was like something out of a fairy tale - a grand stone manor house, its weathered walls speaking of centuries of history, surrounded by meticulously maintained gardens and backed by dense woods. "Oh, Christian," I breathed, reaching for his hand. "It's beautiful." Christian squeezed my hand, his eyes fixed on the house. "It is, isn't it? I'd almost forgotten how impressive it is."

It was a gentleman's duty to see to the well-being of his lands and his tenants. "Thank you, my lord," Higgins said, glancing down as he did so. "Let's return to the manor house, and I'll see that your family is settled in." He and Higgins mounted their horses and followed the dirt road home. Behind them came a wagon with the children, pulled by two plow horses. A young woman stood on the front steps of the grand old Lennox House. A breeze tugged at the skirts of her pale-blue day gown. Long blond hair that matched his own was coiled on the top of her head in the fashion of the day. No bonnet, of course. His little sister Joanna detested the things.