Page 1 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
PROLOGUE
CARRIETAYLORWAStoo numb to be nervous about her job interview for a very prestigious job as a live-in housekeeper in London. She wasn’t even sure how she’d been deemed a suitable candidate, considering her hospitality experience didn’t stretch beyond working in three-star hotels in Manchester.
Clearly, going by the fact that she was in a detached Georgian mansion in one of London’s most exclusive neighbourhoods, this was very much on another level. But her desire to move to London and the fact that she could start straight away because she had no ties might have had something to do with it.
No ties.
Emotion threatened to break through the numb barrier she’d pulled around herself in the last six months. She forced it down again. Not here...not now.
She would have time to lick her wounds and heal if she could just settle somewhere far away from where she’d been. At least physically, if not emotionally.
She diverted her mind from her recent traumatic past and tried to focus again on the interview. There was no way she was going to get the job. And that assertion was somehow a little liberating. A stream of considerably more glamorous and undoubtedly more experienced women had gone in before her. And one man in a three-piece suit.
They weren’t wearing cheap high street clothes. Carrie plucked at her shirt, trying to straighten it. Her jacket and skirt didn’t even match, but they were the same colour so that would have to do. There was a hole in her nylons, but she was hoping it wasn’t visible. She’d lost almost a stone in weight in the last six months, and she really should have bought a new outfit, but she’d literally had no time to waste before coming to this interview.
The recruiter had said, ‘I won’t lie, it’s a long shot, but nothing ventured nothing gained, eh?’ And then he’d asked curiously, ‘Are you sure you’ve never heard of Massimo Black, Lord Linden? He’s the Earl of Linden.’
Carrie had shook her head, already mentally adding up how much the train ticket to London would cost. ‘No, should I have?’
The recruiter had just said, ‘No reason in particular, I guess...’ But he’d looked at her as if she had two heads.
Carrie wondered about that now. The man was undoubtedly wealthy. And an earl,anda lord. Maybe he was in politics? She couldn’t take her phone out here and look him up. She cursed herself for not doing it on the train when she’d had a chance. Wasn’t that what people did ahead of big fancy job interviews? They swotted up on the employer?
She imagined him to be elderly and very posh. White hair? Booming voice? The other people up for the job had certainly walked out of his office looking a little shell-shocked. Maybe he was very formidable.
‘Miss Taylor?’
Carrie stood up so fast her bag fell to the floor. Flustered, she answered, ‘That’s me,’ as she bent down to pick it up.
The stern-looking assistant swept her up and down with an icy gaze and Carrie fought not to let it affect her.
‘Lord Linden will see you now. This way, please.’
She followed the young man back through the jaw-dropping reception hall, with its classic black and white tiles and a marbled staircase leading up to the first floor. There was a huge round table, polished to a high gleam. In the middle was the biggest vase she’d ever seen, with a stunning display of exotic blooms.
She was so distracted by the grandeur that she nearly ran into the man’s back when he stopped abruptly outside a door. She stepped backwards. She wanted to check her hair to make sure it was still pulled neatly into its bun, but she didn’t dare under his exacting gaze.
The assistant knocked and a deep voice answered, ‘Come in.’
For some reason a little tingle went down Carrie’s spine. The door opened and the man stood back to let her by. Carrie walked in, and for a second the sun was in her eyes, so all she could make out was a very tall, broad shape by the window.
Then she took another step and she could see. She heard herself suck in a breath. The first thing that came into her head was:Young, not old.And the second thing was that she’d never seen anyone more beautiful in her life. He was like a Greek statue brought to life.
Thick dark blond hair, swept back from his face. Strong jaw. Firm mouth. Powerful physique. Every line of his face and body screamed power and privilege and something far more disturbing. An earthy sensuality—an innate sexiness that she’d never experienced before.
He was saying something, but Carrie couldn’t actually hear it for a moment. She tried to pull herself together. But she was shaken. This was the first time anyone or anything had pierced through the numbness in her body. And heart.
‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’
Massimo Black, Lord Linden, curbed his irritation. ‘I said, please take a seat.’
The woman who had just entered was looking at him as if she’d never seen a man before. He was used to slightly less obvious reactions. Maybe his assistant had been wrong when he’d said, before he went to summon her, ‘This is the last one, boss, and apparently she’s never heard of you.’
That had made Massimo sit up. It was rare for him to meet anyone who didn’t know him and his lurid life story: inheriting the vast Linden wealth and his father’s title of Earl of Linden at only eighteen, after the premature scandalous deaths of his parents—his mother of a drugs overdose at their family country pile after a debauched party and his father only a few weeks later, while piloting a helicopter with his latest lover. And then the tragic death of his beloved younger brother, who had inherited the destructive gene from his parents, in spite of Massimo’s best efforts to keep him on a straight path.
Massimo pushed all that aside.
So far none of the candidates for housekeeper had impressed him, in spite of their more than adequate CVs and references. So he didn’t hold out much hope for this one, who came with none of that.
