Chapter 1
An exploration of a love-hate relationship
That old manor was no place for a city girl like Stella. Perhaps if she'd been born in this country and her parents hadn't decided to move to America when they tuned 18, she might feel more comfortable running this big mansion. She would have been living here all along if her mother hadn't passed this house on to her younger sister when their parents died.
Now that Stella's aunt had died a lonely, some say crazy, maid at 45, her mother was once again heir to the old English manor.
Stella was never sure why her mother refused to stay in a mansion in England with a large inheritance and servants. But she did now. The house had nearly 30 rooms, many locked and crammed with old forgotten furniture and antiques. Apparently when her aunt Delores moved in and took over 25 years ago she let it run into the ground. She didn't want to pay the original grounds keeper or the landscapers anymore. She cut the wait staff down to just one little old lady and a young hand maiden.
Apparently, Delores was hoarding the small fortune, leaving it nearly untouched for fear of losing everything she owned.
Aunt Deloris was a very strange woman. Well, from what she could remember anyway. The last time Stella saw her for herself was at her 10th birthday party 15 years ago.
At any rate, the mansion was hers now as the eldest of two, other than her mother, in the original Brighton bloodline.
As she walked up to the steps of the old mansion that first night, the old woman greeted her and opened the tall wooden double doors. In the foyer stood the young woman. Both of the ladies wore ragged uniforms; they probably hadn't been replaced since her grandparents had died. They seemed very nervous which in turn made her even more uncomfortable to be there.
"Hello! Welcome to Brighton Manor. Miss Brighton," the eldest lady said with manufactured zeal.
"This is Victoria, she will carry your things and I will give her a brief tour of the house." The young girl waved as she struggled to pick up one of Stella's bags. Stella only nodded the entire time. She felt as though she'd stepped into a time machine that took her back a hundred years. "My name is Mary, I am the head maid. You will have to excuse us. There is one more but he ran an errand. You came sooner than we expected. But Mouse should be back very soon."
Mouse,
she thought to herself.
What kind of name is that?
"Right this way to the kitchen," the old woman said and led her away toward the left of the house. As Mary led her through the most important rooms of the Mansion, her mouth was quiet but her mind was flooded with thought. Her eyes and ears were like sponges soaking in the sights and information that Mary shared with her. As it turned out, her grandparents kept the manor up quite well. They were always entertaining guests but you'd never guess it by the looks of it now. For just a moment, Stella thought it would be exciting to revamp the old place and bring it back to its old heyday appeal. But she knew she couldn't afford to pay to have all that work done.
If mother knew what has happened to this old place she'd be devastated. She would surely feel guilty for passing the entire estate on to her sister just so she could stay in America.
"Mouse!" Mary called. A figure of a young man passed the dark doorway of the grand hall. The man ignored her completely. "Excuse him, ma'am. He isn't keen on strangers. He keeps to himself mostly."
"Is he dangerous?" Stella said mildly alarmed.
"Oh, no, he's quite harmless. He just keeps to the lawn best he can and stays out of the way. You'll have to give him time. He'll come around.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Stella and Mary caught up with Victoria in Stella's new bedroom.
"I didn't suppose you'd want your late aunt's old room so I thought I would prepare your mother's old room."
"No, that's awesome. It's absolutely gorgeous!" Stella looked around the lavishly decorated room. It was so delicately furnished and decorated with rich cherry wood and white lace. The bed was on a platform to elevate it from the floor and there were high bedposts at each corner draped by a beautiful white lace canopy.
"We took great care in cleaning up your room, Miss Brighton. I hope you find it satisfactory," Mary said. "This room hasn't been occupied since your mother left in 1971."
"It's very classic. Timeless beauty. I love it."
"Wonderful. Are you hungry, ma'am? I know it's late but I could prepare you something."
"No, that won't be necessary. I'm not hungry," Stella said as she opened the closet door scoping it out.
"What time shall I wake you tomorrow?"
"Oh, please don't. I'd really like to sleep in tomorrow."
"As you wish. Do you need any other assistance this evening?"
"No, thank you very much," she replied. She really just wanted to be alone.
"Come along, Victoria," Mary said to the young girl.
Stella knew she should get some rest but she wasn't sleepy. She had a meeting tomorrow afternoon with the lawyers. Among other matters of the estate she was going to find out exactly how much of her grandparents inheritance money was left.
She took a bath in the beautiful porcelain claw foot tub in the bathroom connected to her bedroom then she crawled into the huge bed to try to get some sleep. She lay restless, however. Nervous, perhaps. It was such a strange and different environment.
After laying there sleeplessly for over an hour she decided to go to the kitchen for a glass of milk-if she could find it.
Stella donned her robe and made way quietly down the hall. It was very dark; everyone must have gone to bed. Gratefully, it wasn't as difficult as she thought to find the kitchen.
After quietly finding the cabinet with the glasses in it, she poured her milk and drank it down. As she rinsed the glass out in the sink she noticed a light coming from under a doorway down the hall.
That isn't where the servants' quarters are,
she thought curiously. Part of her wanted to go see who was up but another part felt like it was disrespectful to snoop.
Well, it's almost my house now. And they are almost my employees so I shouldn't feel guilty about it, right?
Stella rationalized.
She tip-toed down the short hallway and peeked through the crack in the door. She saw Mouse. He was undressing for bed.
He sure doesn't look like a mouse,
Stella thought. He was built like a god from working outside all day every day.
Mouse reached over and turned on the lamp to scour his dresser for bed clothes. When he turned toward the door she was shocked at what she saw. He was a handsome young man, maybe 30, with dirty, medium length dirty blond hair that had just a bit of curl to it. And then she saw them, but only for a brief moment before he put his clean shirt on. They looked like small round burn marks, possibly self-inflicted. When she saw them she gasped slightly. She couldn't tell if he had heard her or not. He put on his shirt and turned and shut the door.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*
"Hello."
"Mother!" Stella shouted at her mother on her cell. "Why didn't you tell me about all this inheritance stuff?!" The cab driver glanced back at her in the rear view mirror.
"Well, I never really cared much for living out at that old place, you know that. I never really kept up with it all. Sort of forgot about it, really. Your father and I make more than enough money to take care of ourselves anyway."
"You really have no idea what's going on here do you?" Stella exclaimed, stunned at her mother's willful ignorance.
