“Good Morning, ma’am,” he greets me. His gaze never even flicks over me. It just settles at a corner somewhere above my head.

“Good Morning, Mike. Where did you come from?”

I explored the whole house and it was empty. So, how did he enter?

“I live upstairs, Ma’am,”

“I didn’t see any stairs!”

He points at the door in the foyer.

“Oh!” I had assumed that was a coat holder and didn’t care to look further. “It’s a Sunday. Why are you ready for work?”

“His Grace works several Sundays. I came to check if he wanted to step out for work this morning as well.”

“He’s sleeping right now. Shall I ask him to call you when he wakes up?”

He bows his head and turns to leave, but I call out to him. “Wait, Mike!”

He faces me again.

“Please, I’d like to talk to you for a moment.”

He quietly follows me into the kitchen. I bid him a seat at the breakfast bar, opposite me.

“Would you like some coffee?”

I pour him a cup without waiting for him to reply and hand him the steaming brew. I point at the creamer and sugar. He shakes his head at both.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” I joke and he just gives me a straight look in response.

Sighing, I start again, “I realize it’s your job to look after the security of Damien.”

He sits with his hands on the mug, his eyes on me, waiting for me to get to the point.

“That would also include vetting any new person he comes into contact with?” I ask.

His eyes widen a fraction before the usual calm, unyielding mask slips back on his face.

“You’re right, Ma’am.”

I look in the direction of Damien’s bedroom before asking, “So, I can safely assume that you know about me?”

He sips from his cup before he replies. “I’ve known about you since the first time Mr. Westcott sent me your picture and asked me to keep an eye out for you. He surmised correctly that you would try to make contact with His Grace. And you did, at the coffee shop.”

I keep my shoulders straight, trying not to show I’m worried, but he misses nothing.

He glances down into his mug. “I almost told His Grace about you, in Scotland. I have a complete file on you lying in my room upstairs. I know you’re married to him. I know about your son.” He takes a deep breath and raises his eyes to meet mine. “But then the only time His Grace ever expresses any emotion is when he is around you. Hence, I decided to keep my silence. He’s a good man and if you bring him happiness then I won’t get in your way. But you need to tell him, Ma’am.”