Chapter three.

Hazel returned home that evening to pack a few dresses and belongings for her stay at the Duke's estate. Lady Victoria, her mother, was a bit taken aback by her daughter's decision but sensed there was little she could do. She advised Hazel to carry herself with grace, show respect to everyone, and be on her best behavior.

The next morning, Hazel bid her family farewell. "It's only five days, Mother," she reassured. "I'll be back for the weekend to enjoy the rest of the festival with you all"

With a final embrace, she departed for the Duke's estate.

Upon arriving at the grand household, Hazel soon realized that the resident servants held themselves a touch above the temporary staff. Some were friendly, while others acted rather superior. Fortunately, Hazel made a few friends who helped her settle in at the servants' quarters.

As they gathered that early that morning, her new friend Emily whispered excitedly, "Did you hear? The Duke's eldest son has returned. He arrived just this morning!"

"Oh, don't start, Emily," said Helen, rolling her eyes. "Have you even laid eyes on him?"

Emily grinned. "Do I need to? They say he's terribly handsome, with fair skin that nearly glows."

"Oh, that he is," Helen chimed in. "Perfect to be the future Duke, unlike his brother Edward, who thinks far too much of himself."

Emily nodded, leaning in conspiratorially. "Apparently, Edward has a rather sordid reputation, bedding the maids, courting Lady Hannah, and acting as if he owns the world. A man like that ought not to inherit the title."

As the others shared their gossip, Hazel listened quietly. At least now she knew the Duke had two sons one good and one perhaps… less so.

Shortly afterward, they were called to their duties. Due to Hazel's composed and presentable appearance, she was quickly assigned to join the maids in serving the Duke's family at meals a rather prestigious task for a newcomer. Word reached the head butler, Sir Henry, that the Duke's son had returned, and after noticing Hazel's poise, he even assigned her to assist in preparing the young master's room, an unusual privilege for someone so new.

Meanwhile, Garet's carriage arrived at his father's grand estate. The sight of the old stone mansion stirred memories from his boyhood painful ones. He recalled, with a pang, watching his mother leave through these very doors. He was aware of his father's desire for him to return, marry, and one day assume the title of Duke, but Garet had come with an agenda of his own.

As he stepped down, the guards approached, scrutinizing him until he produced his seal, confirming his identity as the Duke's eldest son. At once, they bowed, greeting him with a respectful, "Welcome, Master Garet."

Garet was shown to his father's study, where he exchanged polite words. "I confess I thought you would never return," his father remarked, barely concealing his surprise. "It is good to see that you've finally come to your senses about your duty. Your room shall be prepared at once. Do join me for breakfast soon, there are guests arriving, and it would serve you well to make their acquaintance."

After some dutiful conversation, Garet excused himself and began to make his way to his old quarters. As he walked the corridors, memories crept in the long days he'd spent locked away as a child, the punishments he'd endured whenever Edward picked fights. He paused, staring at the door, lost in thought.

Just then, he felt someone bump into him, and a pile of bed linens cascaded to the floor.

"Oh! I beg your pardon, sir," a young maid stammered, flustered as she crouched to pick up the linens. "I didn't mean....."

Garet, showing unexpected kindness, knelt to help her. "It's quite all right. Just… be careful next time." As he handed her the last of the linens, their hands brushed briefly. He glanced at her she was quite striking, with a warmth that seemed to glow from within.

Hazel, slightly flustered, held her breath as he rose, and continued on his way. What a perfect gentleman, she thought, recalling the soft touch of his hand and the surprising gentleness in his voice. But she quickly checked herself, convincing herself that such a man would never take interest in a humble servant like herself.

As Garet entered his room, he noticed it hadn't changed much since he'd left, but his mind drifted back to the young maid. She'd been beautiful, indeed, and her manner calm and composed, unlike the more familiar arrogance of some servants. But he reminded himself of his purpose here this was no time to be distracted by a pretty face.

When his luggage was brought in, he changed for breakfast, determined to play his role as the dutiful son. But as he prepared, he couldn't quite shake the memory of the young maid's eyes, nor the sense that his return to the countryside was already stirring things within him that he hadn't expected.