The Secret Life Of Mrs Beeton Mga Nobela at Kwento

ARIA’S POV The long-time maid, Caroline, has been silent ever since I stepped into Adam’s house. But now, I believe, her silence won't last. Caroline has always been a significant figure in Adam’s household, perhaps even more important than Adam’s own mother, Elodie. During my marriage to Adam, she played a major role in making my life hell, in collaboration with Eva and Elodie. Caroline bullied me relentlessly, making every day a struggle.

I was in a damp, pitch-black cellar, hunched in a corner with my injured leg behind me. The walls were slimy and wet, and the moisture soaked through my blouse. The door swung open, and a burst of light stung my eyes. I lifted my hand to block it. I heard footsteps and quickly shrank back, hiding deeper in the shadows. "Mr. Carver sent me to get you, Mrs. Carver." I looked up to see who it was. It was the bodyguard Henry had hired years ago.

“It’s hard to make the food I can eat tasty, but she always did. I don’t know what witchcraft she had to practice for it.” He poked at the food, and I could swear that I could see his eyes start to water. “She was a really good housewife too. The house was always clean when she was there, positively spotless. Everywhere I looked it felt like a model apartment, a house just ready for a photoshoot. I swear if we weren’t keeping the marriage a secret, I won’t have hesitated to call some lifestyle magazine to do a piece on the place because that’s how neat and stylish it was.”

Back in her sad, lonely past, she stopped being sad and lonely the minute she saw him. Maxima had been a quintessential shy girl. Not even a geek, which was starting to be cool when she hit high school. No! She didn’t mess with computers, she read Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë and she cooked. A lot! She supposed, looking back, that she was trying to recreate the home she’d lost by becoming a great cook. With the three adults all working, Maxima was usually the one to cook dinner, and she found that she loved to experiment with new recipes, to refine old family favorites.

Nothing fancy—just a start. And it was enough. The night air was cooler than usual, and the soft hum of Becca’s air diffuser filled the quiet house. Everything looked spotless—she made sure of that. The living room smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, and she even brought out that glass dish she never lets anyone touch, just to serve the damn sauce.

Out of boredom, I played games on my phone, watched two movies I'd already seen, and did laundry I wasn't allowed to do. Now I was sitting across from the maids in the kitchen with a bag of chips, chatting away while they made dinner. Xavier had chosen to leave the house for work without informing me. I'd woken up to an empty bed and a cold pillow, so I figured I might as well make myself useful. Or at least entertained. “So you're Betty, Sophia, Daniella, Celine, and Ashley.” I pointed at each of them in turn. “Correct?” They all nodded, excitement glowing on their faces.

Not without shooting me a glare. I frowned at the door. “Come in,” a deep voice called from within. I hesitated, then twisted the doorknob, stepping into the room. It was a hall. A woman stood to the far side of the window, her back straight, her eyes sharp and stern as they regarded me. She wore a long dress sweeping to her ankles, and a white apron over it. “I’m Mrs Bennet,” she introduced, her voice carrying that familiar hollowness I had heard multiple times at the facility. “I’m the head maid.”