Chapter 4

I wasn't sure what to expect when arriving for dinner, but I quickly realized I was running late. By the time I reached the dining room, everyone was already seated around the magnificent mahogany table, the crystal chandelier casting elegant shadows across their expectant faces. I paused at the threshold, my heart sinking as all eyes turned toward me.

"How gracious of you to finally join us," Jean remarked, her voice sharp with disapproval. Her gaze traveled from my simple blue dress to my unadorned wrists with undisguised disdain. "Not only late, but dressed for a countryside picnic rather than a family dinner. Perhaps if you considered these gatherings as important as your gardening projects, you might manage to arrive on time and in appropriate attire."

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I slipped into the only empty chair. "I'm sorry. I lost track of time."

Jean's lips curved into a thin smile. "Clearly. Though I suppose punctuality and proper dress are luxuries when one lives so... rustically."

Kennedy cleared his throat from the head of the table, exchanging a meaningful glance with Jean. Something unspoken passed between them—a silent communication that excluded everyone else at the table but seemed especially pointed toward me. Jean responded with the slightest nod, making me feel instantly like an outsider witnessing a language I couldn't understand.

"Now that everyone's here, shall we begin?" Kennedy nodded to the waiting servants, who immediately began serving the first course with practiced efficiency.

The tension in the room was palpable as the meal progressed. Carl occasionally glanced my way with barely concealed irritation, making no effort to hide his disgust whenever I reached for my water glass or used the wrong fork. Barry stared dispassionately at his plate, his complete indifference somehow more unsettling than Carl's open hostility—as though I were so insignificant I didn't even register in his world.

Devin, sitting opposite me, attempted to lighten the mood with occasional jokes, but his friendly demeanor seemed more like watching a fascinating social experiment than genuine warmth. Kennedy maintained a polite but distant demeanor, treating me with the cool courtesy one might extend to a business associate rather than family. Ara alone showed what seemed like genuine concern, though her pitying glances made me equally uncomfortable.

A servant refilled my wine glass without me asking, and I caught Jean's subtle eye roll at my mumbled "thank you" to the staff.

As the main course was being served, Ara set down her wine glass and straightened her shoulders. "I've been thinking about something important I'd like to discuss with everyone."

The table fell silent, all attention shifting to her.

"It concerns Lina," she continued, nodding in my direction. "She's been with us for quite some time now, and I believe it's appropriate that we acknowledge her as a full member of this family."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, uncertain where this was heading.

"The cottage where Lina is staying is charming but inadequate," Ara stated, her tone matter-of-fact. "I propose we build her a proper house here on the estate grounds. The eastern parcel near the rose garden would be ideal—it has excellent exposure and would provide her with the space and comfort she deserves as part of this family."

My jaw nearly dropped at this unexpected proposal. Before I could formulate a response, Carl's brow furrowed deeply, his expression darkening like storm clouds gathering.

"Absolutely not," he said, his voice low but firm. "That section of the property is designated for future expansion of the vineyard. We've discussed this before." His eyes narrowed as he glanced my way. "Besides, the expense would be considerable and completely unwarranted."

Devin leaned forward, setting his fork down with a gentle clink. "I disagree, Carl. Ara's suggestion makes perfect sense." He turned to me with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Lina's cottage is barely more than a glorified gardener's shed. If she's truly part of this family, she should have accommodations that reflect that status."

All eyes turned to Barry, who continued methodically cutting his steak as if no conversation were taking place. The silence stretched uncomfortably until Kennedy cleared his throat.

"Barry? Your thoughts?" Kennedy prompted.

Barry glanced up briefly, his expression revealing nothing. "I have no opinion on the matter," he stated flatly before returning his attention to his meal.

Jean gave a sharp, humorless laugh that cut through the tension like a knife. "This is preposterous," she declared, setting her napkin down with deliberate precision. "A new house? Why don't we just hand over the keys to the estate while we're at it?"

She turned to me, her smile venomous. "Tell me, Lina, was this your idea? Have you been complaining about your accommodations to Ara behind my back? First you can't dress properly for dinner, and now you want us to build you a mansion?"

"I never—" I began, but Jean continued as if I hadn't spoken.

"It seems rather convenient that you arrive in our lives and suddenly there's talk of building you a permanent residence on family land." Her voice dripped with insinuation. "Perhaps next we should revise the will to include you?"

"Jean," Kennedy's voice carried a note of warning. "That's quite enough."

"Actually, I think Jean's concerns deserve consideration," Carl interjected, his expression grim. "The timing is suspect at best."

Kennedy set down his cutlery with deliberate care. "I believe Ara's proposal has merit," he said evenly. "Lina has become an integral part of this household, and her current living situation is indeed modest. The eastern parcel is suitable for construction, and the expense, while not insignificant, is well within our means."

He looked around the table, his gaze lingering on each face before continuing. "As for timing, I see nothing suspicious about wanting to provide properly for all members of this family. Lina included."

Jean's eyes flashed with barely contained fury. "How remarkably generous you've become with family resources, Kennedy. I don't recall such largesse being extended to others who've served this household far longer."

Throughout this exchange, my discomfort had grown exponentially. The idea of being the cause of such discord was mortifying, and the thought of these people building me a house—presumably tying me more permanently to the estate—filled me with unexpected dread.

"Please," I said, my voice higher than normal as all eyes turned to me. "I appreciate the thought, truly I do, but there's absolutely no need for any of this."

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. "My cottage is perfect for me—it's quiet and private, and I've put a lot of work into making it comfortable." I smiled tentatively around the table, carefully avoiding Jean's glacial stare. "The garden is finally coming along exactly as I'd hoped, and I wouldn't want to abandon it. Really, I'm quite content where I am."

Ara's expression softened. "But Lina, you deserve better than—"

"I'm happy there," I insisted, perhaps too forcefully. "Honestly, I prefer the cottage. It suits me."

An uncomfortable silence descended over the table. Kennedy nodded slowly.

"Well, if that's how you feel, we'll respect your wishes," he said finally. "Though the offer remains open should you change your mind."

Jean's lips curved into a satisfied smile as she raised her wine glass. "How refreshingly sensible of you, Lina. It's good to know you understand your place here."

The meal continued in strained silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I kept my eyes on my plate, acutely aware of how differently each person regarded me: Carl's suspicious glare, Devin's calculating assessment, Barry's complete indifference, Jean's smug satisfaction, Kennedy's diplomatic distance, and Ara's well-intentioned but uncomfortable concern.

Looking around at their perfectly coordinated formal attire, their practiced mannerisms, and the silent language they all shared, I smoothed my simple blue dress self-consciously and had never felt more out of place. This wasn't just about a house or my tardiness or even my inappropriate clothing—it was about belonging. And in that moment, I realized with painful clarity that I might never truly belong here, no matter where on the estate I lived.