Mary led the way through the labyrinthine corridors of the estate, her footsteps muffled by the thick, cream-colored carpets. She stopped before a set of double doors carved from dark walnut—a room specifically designated for the fitting.
"Mr. De La Vega has assigned this room for your use today, Miss," Mary said, her voice barely a whisper. "Strict orders were given that no one is to enter his personal quarters, not even for the designer."
"Thank you. I appreciate you showing me the way."
Mary flinched slightly, her eyes widening as she looked up. In the Starling household—where Mary had been "borrowed" from—thanking a maid was as common as thanking a chair for being sat upon.
She blinked, then nodded quickly, color rising to her cheeks. "You're… welcome, miss." She dipped her head and hurried away, flustered, already reaching for the next chore as if afraid the moment might linger too long.
Eloise took a breath and pushed open the doors.
