Evelyn frowned when she saw Matilda standing at the door once again.
Matilda, however, only glanced at her once before turning towards the two servants.
Her voice carried the authority of someone who had been giving orders in this household for years.
“Carry these bags out,” she said.
“They aren’t supposed to be here.”
Evelyn frowned at that.
“What do you mean?” She stepped forward and asked, “These are my bags.
Why can’t they be here?”
Matilda looked up at her.
Her arms were clasped politely in front of her, and she looked every bit like the proper housekeeper of a family as powerful as the Callahans.
But that politeness was nothing more than a facade.
Evelyn could feel the disdain beneath every glance and every carefully measured word.
“That’s because you, yourself, won’t be staying here, Ms.
Beaumont,” Matilda replied.
Once again, her voice remained perfectly polite, yet the hostility beneath it was impossible to miss.
Evelyn stared at her.
Matilda held her gaze for a moment before turning back to the two servants.
“Take these bags to the guest room at the far end of the east wing.
There are maids there who will help and arrange everything.”
The servants hesitated.
They might not know much, but they had heard enough to know that this was the woman their master had brought home after marrying her yesterday.
Wasn’t that what made her his wife?
And shouldn’t a wife stay with her husband?
Why would she be shifted away the very day?
They couldn’t understand.
For a long moment, even after Matilda had given them the orders, neither servant moved.
Their brows furrowed slightly in confusion as they exchanged uncertain glances.
Matilda noticed their hesitation.
And a faint sneer crossed her lips.
“Did you two not hear me?” she asked, her voice low but sharp.
“Sir doesn’t like anyone infringing on his personal space, and Madam Callahan has asked me to arrange a room for Ms.
Beaumont somewhere she doesn’t become a bother to Sir.
So, think carefully before you continue hesitating.”
The two servants immediately understood the meaning behind her words.
If Helena herself had ordered the arrangement, how could they dare disobey?
They quickly moved towards the luggage and began wheeling it out, preparing to take it to the distant guest room in the east wing.
Evelyn said nothing.
She didn’t stop them.
She didn’t yell at Matilda or make a scene, demanding her rights as Damian’s wife —or insisting that she had every right to remain in his room. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
She simply stood there and watched as the servants wheeled her bags away, just as they had wheeled them in earlier.
Matilda pressed her lips together in quiet satisfaction.
She waited.
She expected Evelyn to protest.
… To demand her place.
… To defy the arrangement.
But when several moments passed, and Evelyn still said nothing, Matilda finally turned towards her.
“Don’t misunderstand me, Ms.
Beaumont.
I’m simply doing what I was asked to do.”
“You might have arrived here yesterday as the Callahan bride, but you won’t be accepted as one until Madam approves of you.”
She paused.
“And…” Her gaze deliberately shifted toward the doorway before she added, “Given what she asked me to arrange, she clearly doesn’t approve of you.”
Evelyn followed her gaze towards the door.
Then, slowly, the corner of her lips curved upward.
She turned her eyes back to Matilda.
She didn’t respond immediately.
Instead, she simply smiled and began walking towards her.
Matilda’s brows furrowed.
She had expected the woman’s expression to fall.
She had expected anger.
A demand … or perhaps even an outburst.
But she hadn’t expected this kind of calmness.
It was almost as though being pushed out of the room that was supposedly hers hadn’t bothered Evelyn at all.
“Ms.
Beaumont, you—”
Before she could finish, Evelyn stopped directly in front of her.
She looked down at the older woman.
“Matilda?” She said the name slowly, almost as though testing it on her tongue.
“Isn’t that right?
That’s your name, isn’t it?”
Evelyn hadn’t heard Matilda introduce herself.
But she had heard Helena call her by that name the previous evening.
Matilda’s frown deepened.
And that alone was enough confirmation.
Evelyn’s smile widened slightly.
“Please thank Madam Callahan on my behalf,” she said calmly.
“She has truly been thoughtful.”
With that, she gave Matilda one last faint smirk before turning away.
Matilda stared after her, completely unable to understand her reaction.
But just as she was about to step outside, she paused and glanced back.
“Oh …” Her tone was almost casual.
“This estate is still quite new to me.
I don’t know my way around yet.”
She looked at Matilda.
“Since you’re here on Madam’s orders and have been personally assigned to arrange a different room for me, how about you take me there?”
She smiled faintly.
“I’d rather not get lost.”
She didn’t wait for Matilda to accept or decline.
She simply turned around and walked out as though her words were an instruction rather than a request.
And Matilda had no choice but to follow.
And that’s exactly what it was.
Evelyn believed power and authority were never something that needed to be borrowed.
They were earned —and, more importantly, carried with confidence.
And confidence was something she, Evelyn, had never lacked.
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Later that morning—
Damian returned to his room.
But the moment he stepped inside, his brows slowly furrowed.
His eyes swept across the room.
Everything was exactly where it should have been.
Nothing appeared out of place, and yet—
Something was severely missing.
Something … he had expected to find there right after entering.
His expression darkened.
He turned and headed towards the bathroom.
But that room was empty as well.
She wasn’t there.
—not even her little trace.
His jaw tightened.
Where did she go?
Just as he stepped back into the hallway, he spotted a maid passing by.
“Stop.”
The maid immediately halted.
Damian’s gaze settled on her, his expression cold enough to make her straighten instinctively.
Then he asked, his voice unusually low and dangerous—
“Where is … my wife?”