Woes Of A Villainess

7. The Sticky-fingered maid (2)

(an: Thank you for reading, criticism is encouraged! I want to improve the story and would love to hear opinions.)

The largest study in the manor was reserved solely for the head of Lockhart, serving as a quiet place for work and an intimidating place for meetings of any kind. Its solid oak walls and furniture evoked a reminder of the honour and longevity synonymous with the family name, making it the worst place for Layton to be resting at the moment. A deep sigh left Layton's lips as he ran a tan hand through his dark blue tresses. Another all-nighter, all for the sake of sorting out the manners of the Earldom haphazardly left behind by his father. And he wasn't even finished yet.

Setting down the pen after signing another form, he allowed himself a break and reclined in his father's chair... Or rather, it was his chair now, wasn't it... He frowned, deciding to push that thought back once more by delving back into his work until a gentle knock on the large double doors caught him off guard. He quickly cleared his throat to answer, "Ahem... Enter."

A maid holding a tray entered the room and offered a quick bow, "Good morning, Milord. Letters have arrived."

His face fell for a split moment at the mere thought of having to respond to requests to meet with people and leave the house more than needed, but he quickly hid it by furrowing his brow. He uttered a small thank you as the maid left the letters with him and he began digging through each. Of course, it was the usual, requests for audience and such. All piled high on the tray, awaiting his approval. He opened the drawer to set them aside with the many others but froze in his tracks at the unsent envelope haunting him within it.

He had been withholding from sending his letter, confirming his inability to complete his final year at the academy ever since he had first heard the news of his father's passing. It had to be done eventually. But it was as though his body physically prevented him from doing so.

He was needed by the earldom. He was needed by his family.

Layton's frown deepened in thought and a heavy feeling of guilt settled in his chest. Shame from his inability to let go. He didn't know what to do...

He was dragged out of his thoughts by the ticking of the clock... He needed to get back to work.

———————
"Lady Arabella, tea is ready for you."

Arabella's bright blue eyes turned away from the piano and she had to try her best not to make her eagerness obvious. It hadn't even been a week since she had returned to the past, and she was still adjusting. She had found that, as a result of being locked away in prison for a year with very little to eat, her relationship with food had become turbulent. It took an active effort not to gorge herself now that it was readily available and her body was no longer fighting to keep itself running. Still, the fragrant scent of the fresh cake made her salivate.

"Thank you..." Arabella left the piano stool and followed Aubrey who took the tray and set it on the table in the centre of the room. Arabella couldn't help the drool that began to pool in her mouth. With that, she dug in, actively focusing on pacing herself.

As she ate, she focused her gaze on the other presence in the room. Carol stood by her diligently, waiting to pour tea when asked. She seemed to have settled since the incident 2 days ago and gained some confidence in thinking that she hadn't been caught and had a scapegoat to boot. That much was evident, as more things were beginning to go missing. She was growing bold. Aubrey herself seemed to be catching on to this fact. Aubrey had always been the type to silently observe, making her an excellent maid who always knew Arabella's cues. Arabella was sure that under any other circumstance Aubrey would have spoken up by now, but it seemed she was aware that her lady was up to something. A knowing look was clear in her silver eyes. A silent understanding was cemented between them.