However, she wondered if her time there had been an attempt to distract herself from what lay before her now. The Drakethorn legacy. The weight of it was heavy, but it felt right.
Too bad it included paperwork.
Stacy had been hard at work filling out forms since shortly after dawn, and it was nearing noon. She knew this only because when the sun was overhead, it shone directly through the front window and into her eyes. One thing she hadn’t done yet was put up curtains.
As a hard-working lawyer with an impressive reputation, Stacy thought the registration forms would be a piece of cake. They were not even close. “I could be helping people right now, but these stupid forms are stopping me,” she muttered.
A nearby sprite balancing on the end of a pen sticking out of a cup paused, eyeing the forms in disgust.
“You think it’s stupid, too, huh?” Stacy asked.
The sprite lifted its wings and fluttered away. Stacy wished she could do the same.
Ever since resigning from her firm in the city and moving to the countryside, Stacy had been determined to use her legal skills and knowledge to establish a practice of her own. Drakethorn Legal, she would call it if she ever got through the paperwork.
It felt good to be using her full last name again. What would those in the courtroom think when former Attorney Stacy Drake strolled in one day, calling herself by a new last name? Those who’d heard the rumors of a wealthy, resourceful man named Constantine Drakethorn would wonder if there was a connection.
Let them wonder, she thought.
Being able to help others and make a difference while living in Thorn Cottage, which her mother once inhabited, seemed ideal. Stacy was still wading through the muck of paperwork when her phone rang. “Yes, Rowan? You know I’m less than a quarter-mile from the house, and you could come here, right?”
She heard a wry smile in his voice. “Of course, Miss Drakethorn. I didn’t want to bother you, in case you were busy.”
Stacy scowled at his use of “Miss Drakethorn.” She had lectured him more than once on simply calling her Stacy like everyone else did.
“Would you mind coming into the house for a talk? I believe I have the final candidates narrowed down.” Though Rowan didn’t say it, Stacy knew he didn’t like conducting meetings in “the shed.”
She was more than happy to leave her paperwork behind. If she wasn’t having any luck establishing her practice, at least she could hire people to work at her estate. “I’ll be right in, Rowan,” she replied before hanging up.
She took her time through the garden between the small cottage and the manor house. She passed abundant rose bushes and apple trees, then circled a large stone fountain around which many water sprites flitted and danced. The stone manor house rose amongst clumps of dark trees with ivy and moss growing over its old surface. Several windows were open to the warm air.
Stacy pulled in a deep breath. Sometimes, it felt good to simply be.
Her mind roamed all that had been weighing on her today and in the past week since her official move to the estate grounds. Of course, there were the forms and the employee search. Rowan had taken the brunt of that work, but it had proved more difficult than either had expected.
It was a lot to ask people to work the estate since it meant moving to the countryside, and the manor house didn’t have enough room for whole families. This ruled out anyone who was married or had children.
Amy was having better luck with her work. Still a journalist, her constant projects sometimes took her into the city. Rowan went as her bodyguard, leaving Stacy to pick up the slack he left behind. She didn’t mind. She wanted Amy to enjoy her job and be safe while doing it. However, a time would come when Amy would need a separate bodyguard who wasn’t the estate manager.
Stacy herself had only gone into the city once since her move to continue practicing magic with Ethan, but their relationship had grown stilted recently. She had not yet revealed the truth of who she was, and it weighed on her. He seemed to sense she was withholding something but didn’t push. He had not seen her new home, and Stacy was fine with that.
She wished she could tell him everything since they were friends and he was a witch like her. She trusted him but was afraid of putting him in danger as she had done to Amy. She didn’t need another friend to be appointed a bodyguard every time they were away from her estate.
Stacy ambled into her home. The fresh scents of lilac bouquets arranged on a table by the back door hit her, paired with something baking in the kitchen. When the hell Rowan found time to bake and arrange flowers, she didn’t know. She didn’t have any living grandmothers, but Rowan seemed determined to act as one.
She called for him, and he responded from the living room toward the front of the house. “In here.”
She strolled the long, narrow hallway decked with dark wood flooring and peach-painted walls littered with framed photographs and paintings. The landscapes showed sprawling hills, misty moors, cliff edges, and deep blue seas. She often wondered if these were places her mother had once visited.
Rowan was indeed in the living room, holding several papers and wearing a wide smile. “May I present the final candidates for the estate staff positions? I have vetted these people myself and can promise their…unique talents make them perfect for the jobs.”
Stacy raised a brow. “Is ‘unique’ code for ‘magical,’ Rowan?”
His green eyes sparkled. “That is yet to be determined.” His way of saying, You’ll find out when they arrive, which Stacy took as a “yes.” She hadn’t needed to ask the question since neither she nor Rowan were inclined to hire anyone to live here who didn’t understand the deep magic infused within the land.
She took the papers, scanning the names and credentials. “I trust your judgment on this sort of thing better than my own, Rowan.” After all, he’d managed this estate for decades, perhaps longer. He’d hired and looked after staff. Stacy had never done anything like this other than the occasional management of a legal team, which she figured was not similar. “Whatever you think is best as long as whoever we hire can be loyal and have discretion when necessary.”
Rowan nodded. “Of course. I take those things very seriously.”
She gave him a small smile. “I know you do.”
His mouth twitched. “We need people who can work this estate knowing they’ll have more to handle than a few household chores.”
“Right, because with your standards, you’ll be expecting every speck of dust swept away and each surface gleaming and shining,” Stacy returned.
Rowan’s amusement vanished. “Households like this do not run in the absence of low standards, Miss Drakethorn.” His mirth wasn’t entirely gone since he only called her “Miss Drakethorn” to elicit a reaction.
She scowled. “When you’re interviewing potential employees, maybe don’t mention your high standards. We don’t want to scare anyone off.”
“I’ve never scared anyone off in my life.”
“Bullshit. You can be scary.” She had seen him cut down armed assassins with little effort. It wasn’t only the magic in his veins and his connection to her new home. He was a trained and skilled fighter. If Stacy ever managed to hire anyone and get through all the damn paperwork, she would ask Rowan for lessons.
Ethan had trained her well when it came to spells, and though Khan had taught her some aspects of hand-to-hand combat, she preferred to leave him alone. He had an estate of his own to run. In addition to whatever dragons do in their spare time or when they’re making secret trips across the world, she thought.
Rowan’s returning scowl had Stacy laughing. Something about the dryad made her feel like she’d known him all her life despite only meeting him a few weeks ago. Maybe it had something to do with how well he had known her mother.
She recalled the phone conversation with her father earlier that morning about Rowan. Khan told her there was no one better to run her estate. He was trustworthy, having worked for her mother for practically forever.
