prepared with fresh flowers in a vase on the vanity, along with what looks like fresh bed linens.
“This will be your wing of the house. Your grandmother is on the other end. You’re welcome to explore on your own, but just be wary of going out into the garden after dark.”
“Why?” I question, opening the curtain to look out over the lawn that leads toward a mountain that looks like a large black mound. The forest ahead reminds me of those I’ve read as a girl in dark fairy tales. “There aren’t any big bad wolves out there.”
“Oh, no, not at all. We just have the gardener working at night. He sets the traps for the foxes out there, which can be dangerous if you don’t know where they are.”
“And he does this at night?” I spin on my heel, looking at the older woman. Why would someone want to do that at night? It’s rather strange.
“Yes, he feels it’s better than doing it in the day; that way, we can explore the gardens safely while the sun is up,” Estelle says as she waves her hand in the air as if she thinks it’s as silly as I do.
“I see. And how old is he?”
Her gaze snaps to mine at the question, her eyes wide as she regards me. “Oh, he’s not for you, sweet Scarlett. You stay clear of him.”
Her words have me laughing out loud. “I’m not at all interested in a man who works in a garden setting traps, I can assure you of that.” I wave my hand in response, knowing that when I get home, I’ll have a multitude of bachelors waiting for me, and it will all be my mother’s doing.
Her brows furrow at my words, but she doesn’t respond. Estelle only offers a curt nod before she heads for the door. Her reaction to me is strange, and I wonder if I’ve offended her by what I said.
“Good night, Miss Bardot. I trust you’ll sleep well,” she greets before walking out of the room, leaving me staring at the empty space. I want to close it, but only moments later, an older gentleman brings my suitcases, and I guess it’s Gray.
“Good evening, Miss. Bardot,” he says, as he pulls the suitcases through the door and sets them down on a stool near the closet.
“You’re Gray?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nods.
“Tell me something, Gray.” I turn to face him fully, watching as he straightens to full height. “The gardener who works for Gran. Is there something I should know about him?”
The old man’s eyes widen as he regards me. “I… I think perhaps you should meet him yourself, ma’am,” he tells me, his voice shaking as he speaks, which only sets my curiosity alight.
Chapter Four
Lycan
Being back in Crimson Falls is strange. I’ve only ever been here when I viewed the property before buying. The investment certainly has been a good one as I step through the foyer into the main area of my new home.
The flight back from New York was quick, and the drive up here was refreshing. A change from the city. The furnishings my decorator chose are exquisite—all dark woods, glass and steel in the kitchen, and claret carpets overlying the expensive tiles.
I head up the sweeping staircase and turn left down the hall to the room I’ve had set up for Scarlett. Upon pushing open the door, I find the ornate four-poster bed, a myriad of cushions and a deep red comforter.
On the opposite side of the bed is a vanity with a beautifully intricate mirror. Carved from the finest oak, the frame shows a little girl with a red hood and the wolf right behind her. Reaching for the sculpted scene, I trace my finger over the hood, the memory of Scarlett’s sleek red hair flickering in my mind.
When I planned to bring her here, I wanted the room to feel like home. Even though she’s going to hate me for a while, I figured at least she can hate in comfort. The contract I signed with her father ensures she’s mine and no longer a Bardot, but she will be a Shaw as soon as the ceremony is complete.
A man relinquishing his hold on his daughter because he fucked up is a sad state of affairs. But he did it to ensure I never divulged what he did behind his wife’s back. Yes, she knew about the money, the embezzlement, but she has no clue her husband likes to