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Hayefield Manor, Warwickshire, England
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HAYEFIELD MANOR WAS not a welcoming place.
Deep in the English countryside, mist crawled its way across the darkened fields and engulfed the village of Hayefield until only shadowy forms peered from the bleakness. Its thatched roof cottages all huddled around the prominent spire of an ancient church as if for comfort; its deserted cobbled streets lit in an eerie blue-white lamplight echoed with the scratching and scurrying of unseen creatures.
Beyond the village, along a pitch black winding lane, lay Hayefield Manor itself. A colossal structure built on prestige and tradition: its castlements obscured, its owner murkier than the smoky fog.
Lady Sophie Haye stared out at the night in the darkness of her room. The security light flicked on and off, on and off, flashing stark white-blue light onto Sophie’s face. A beautiful face, sculpted as if from the stone itself, her heart as cold.
“Sophie, is there something you need?” Edwina, the head of the household, whispered, hoping her hands weren’t shaking too visibly.
Sophie’s charcoal eyes hardened and her dark brow dipped. “Why else would I call you?”
“It’s three in the morning?” a soft voice came from the bed. “Whatever it is, can’t it wait? Come back to bed.”
Sophie turned, full broad-shouldered body covered in a thin green silk gown, hugging in at her waist, charcoal eyes glinting with her temper, a vile uncontrollable temper. “Wait?”
Edwina shuddered and fussed with her glasses. “What is it you need, ma’am?”
Sophie met her eyes, hers pulsing with sheer stubbornness. “Call the chauffeur.”
Edwina sighed. “Chauffer . . . but—”
“Do I need to repeat myself?” Sophie’s tone grew colder, harder.
“Where are you going?” the soft voice from the bed muttered.
Sophie strode to the chair and threw clothes at the shadowed bed. “You are leaving.”
“Excuse me?” Long blonde curls fell into the flashing white-blue light.
Sophie turned back to the window. “Show her out.”
“Of course, Sophie.” Edwina sucked in a breath and urged the woman from the room. “I’ll have Mick take you to the gate house.”
Rachel Salisbury tugged on her clothes. She was not used to being thrown out of anywhere. “Oh, that’s just fantastic. Who does she think she is to do that to me?”
“A Haye, madam.” Edwina had heard this far too many times. “Which you knew before you fell into her bed.”
“My father owns more property than she does,” Salisbury snapped. She leaned on the wall and pulled on her higher than necessary heels. “He’s richer than she is. He has more land than she does. He could flatten her if I ask.”
“But he’s not a Haye.” Edwina held her hand out as they reached the stone steps. “And neither are you.”
“What is that supposed to mean? So she’s got a title. She’s a bore.” Salisbury’s eyes misted.
“It’s not just any title. She’s a Haye.” Edwina helped Salisbury down the steps and ushered her through the dimly lit corridor. “If you’d like any other information please feel free to pick up a leaflet at the gatehouse, or visit the website.”
Salisbury laughed.
Creak.
Edwina flinched as old floorboards creaked under her feet.
“Why are you so scared of her?” Salisbury muttered as Edwina grasped her elbow and dragged her through the huge hallways, the courtyard, the large arched gateway.
“Mick?” Edwina hammered on the door of the guard office. “Mick?”
She shoved open the door but the office was empty.
“I asked you a question. Why are you scared?” Salisbury laughed at Edwina and flicked back her long blonde hair.
Edwina gave her only a pained smile. “Please wait here for Mick to escort you.”
Salisbury rolled her eyes. “No, thank you. Unlike you, I’m not scared of her or some pathetic mist.”
Edwina shrank back and hurried back into the office.
Salisbury laughed a nasty laugh, hoping it covered the sobs. The mist seemed thicker as the lights from the manor disappeared. The inky figures of trees seemed to watch her every step; their rustle sent a shiver up her spine.
She hurried down the lit driveway, glad of the gatehouse coming into view. The place gave her the creeps. Who threw people out at three in the morning? Her father would be furious. Yes, he’d make Sophie Haye pay for that.
Crack.
Something behind her snapped. She jumped and glanced over her shoulder but saw only the mist. She picked up her speed. Just had to get out of the estate. Just needed to get away from the place.
Crack.
She jumped, then scowled as she neared the gatehouse. Its lights the only thing she could make out through the mist.
Hands grabbed her from behind. She spun around. “You?”
“Me.”
Salisbury dropped to the ground before she could scream.