Rewind_ I Don't Love You Anymore

The morning after the dinner party, I was polishing the silver in the kitchen when Mrs. Winters appeared, her normally stern face flushed with excitement.

"Elena," she called, waving me over. "Mrs. Rothschild wants to see you immediately."

My hands stilled on the teapot I was cleaning. "Did she say why?"

"No, but she seemed quite pleased about something." Mrs. Winters gave me a curious look. "It's not often the mistress singles out a maid for special attention."

I nodded, wiping my hands on my apron before following her upstairs. My mind raced with possibilities, none of them good. Had Damien complained about my coldness? Was I to be disciplined or fired?

The walk to Matilda Rothschild's private office felt like marching to an execution.

I knocked softly on the heavy oak door.

"Enter," came a crisp, aristocratic voice.

Matilda Rothschild sat behind her imposing desk, her silver-streaked hair pulled back in a severe bun. Despite her age, she commanded the room with the effortless authority of someone born to power.

"Elena Ashford," she said, studying me with newfound interest. "I've just had a most intriguing conversation with the Duke of Sterling."

My heart stuttered. Sebastian.

"He has requested that you be transferred to his household," she continued, watching my reaction carefully. "Apparently, he was quite impressed by your... efficiency last night."

I kept my face carefully blank, though inside I was reeling. What game was Sebastian playing?

"Of course, I told him we don't typically loan out our staff," Matilda continued, her tone suggesting this was a minor inconvenience rather than a real objection. "But the Duke was most insistent. Said he specifically required someone with your... particular qualities."

I wondered what those "qualities" might be. Did he know? Could he possibly remember our shared past?

"I've agreed to the transfer," Matilda announced, clearly expecting gratitude. "You'll be working at Sterling Manor starting tomorrow. I trust this is acceptable?"

What choice did I have? Refuse and risk suspicion? Stay and face Damien's unwanted attention?

"Of course, ma'am," I replied evenly. "Thank you for the opportunity."

She nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response. "Pack your things today. The Duke's carriage will collect you in the morning."

---

The next day, I stood before Sterling Manor, my single small suitcase clutched in my hand. The estate was magnificent—a sprawling stone mansion set among manicured gardens and ancient oaks. Even in my previous life, when I'd achieved wealth through my son's connections, I'd never seen anything quite so imposing or beautiful.

A butler greeted me at the door, his manner respectful in a way that immediately set me on edge.

"Miss Ashford," he said with a slight bow. "Welcome to Sterling Manor. His Grace is waiting for you in his study."

I followed him through hallways lined with priceless artwork and antiques, my footsteps echoing on marble floors that gleamed like mirrors. Everything spoke of old money and quiet power—so different from the Rothschilds' more ostentatious display of wealth.

Sebastian rose from behind his desk as I entered his study. In the daylight, without the distraction of a crowded party, I could see him clearly—tall and imposing in his perfectly tailored suit, with intelligent eyes that seemed to see right through me.

"Elena," he said, my name sounding strangely intimate on his lips. "Welcome to your new home."

I stiffened at his choice of words. "It's very generous of Your Grace to offer me employment."

"Is it?" He smiled slightly, that same enigmatic expression I'd glimpsed at the party. "I think we both know there's more to this arrangement than simple employment."

I met his gaze steadily. "Then perhaps you should explain what you want from me."

"All in good time," he replied, gesturing to the butler who still hovered by the door. "James will show you to your quarters. Rest, settle in. We'll talk properly at dinner."

I wanted to argue, to demand answers now, but something in his calm demeanor stopped me. Instead, I nodded curtly and followed James up another flight of stairs.

"Your rooms are here, Miss Ashford," James announced, opening a door that led into a suite that took my breath away.

It was beautiful—a bedroom with a four-poster bed draped in pale blue silk, a sitting area with comfortable chairs and bookshelves already filled with volumes, and beyond another door, a private bathroom with a claw-foot tub and running water.

"I... I'm sorry," I stammered, unable to hide my shock. "This is for me?"

James looked confused by my reaction. "Yes, Miss Ashford. Did you expect something else?"

I swallowed hard, fighting back unexpected tears. In my previous life, even after gaining wealth through Damien's connections, I'd never had a space truly my own—not as a maid, not as Damien's discarded mistress, not even as Michael's mother living in our tiny apartment.

"I'll leave you to get settled," James said politely, closing the door behind him.

Alone, I sank onto the edge of the bed, running my fingers over the smooth coverlet. Why was Sebastian doing this? What did he know? What did he want?

And why did this unexpected kindness threaten to crack the walls I'd spent a lifetime building around my heart?