Excerpt of The Secrets of Hanson Hall by Allison Knight

"Well, we’ll see. I intend to call you Amelia. Now, about
your position in this house. I realize you thought you
would be nursing a dying old man but I assure you, Uncle
Fred is anything but a dying old man. He himself insisted
that you were to be a companion. As for the staff, you are
to be considered a guest. I don’t want anyone assuming that
your work can consist of anything but the care of Uncle
Fred."

His directive sounded ominous and once again a chill shot
through me. What was Damian Prescott trying to say?

He glanced at me and stood to show the interview was
definitely finished. He walked in front of the chair in
which I sat and reached down to help me to my feet. As his
warm hand rested against my arm, dragging air into my lungs
suddenly seemed impossible. All my other questions
disappeared from my mind.

Breathlessly, I thanked him and moved to the door. My
reaction to my employer horrified me. Surely it had to be
fear, fear that he would find me wanting and tell me that I
would not do. However, he’d said at the end of the
interview I was to care for his Uncle Fred and those were
to be the extent of my duties. It appeared this interview
had, therefore, been successful.

Companion, not nurse, I mused as I retraced my steps to the
stairway. I took that first step only to have a pleasant
voice halt me in my tracks.

I turned and the exact opposite of Damian Prescott stood
before the archway of another room. He was just as
handsome, but there was almost a boyish quality about him.
A warm smile lit his oval face and his gray eyes twinkled
with amusement. Those eyes peered at me through long lashes
most women would beg to have.

This man was just as tall as Mr. Prescott, but where the
former was large boned and muscular, this man was slender.
His head was covered with blond hair, full and curly, and I
knew instantly I could like this man.

"I wonder," he said, still smiling, "if I could have a word
with you?"

"Sir," I pointed out, "I don’t know you."

"Well," he paused and chuckled. "I can remedy that
immediately. I’m Robert O’Donnell and I live here with my
sister and my Uncle Fred."

I must have looked very puzzled for he went on to
explain. "Damian and I are first cousins. However, he’s
quite a bit older than me. I’m twenty-six and Damian will
be thirty-two in a couple of months."

I extended my hand, "How do you do, Mr. O’Donnell."

"Oh, please. Not Mr. O’Donnell. That’s much too formal.
Call me Robert. You’re a guest, so you must see that
calling me Mr. O’Donnell will never do."

"All right, Robert," I said, then smiled. Yes, I was going
to like this man. "What word did you want to have with me?"

"I wanted to tell you that things may not be what Damian
told you they were. He thinks Uncle Fred will recover. I
know it’s possible, but we’ve seen little improvement over
the last couple of weeks." He looked as if the thought
disturbed him greatly.

"Do you know what caused his seizure?" I asked.

"It happened late one afternoon. We heard Uncle Fred
shouting at someone, but I’ve never figured out who that
person was. We had all seen him that day. I spent time with
him first and, yes we did have a minor confrontation.
Nothing too serious, I thought. Then, Lydia, my sister,
talked to him. I doubt anything she said would have caused
Uncle Fred to bellow in anger the way he did. Damian also
talked to him, but everyone here knows Damian is Uncle
Fred’s favorite so Damian couldn’t have upset the old man."

He shook his head, "No, I don’t know what caused that
attack."

I stared at the speaker, wondering, into what had I come. I
didn’t get a chance to speculate further because Robert had
more to say.

"I hope I don’t scare you, but are you certain you want
this position?" He gazed at me, and his expression seemed
most sincere.

"Sir," I began, but he cut me off.

"I asked you to call me Robert. Now, don’t take offense,
but do you really need this employment? Working here could
be a--difficult."

I stared at him, remembering the words of the coachman.
Hanson Hall had a lot of secrets. Not a happy place. Could
the handsome man before me be part of the reason this was
not a ‘happy place’? Suddenly, my greatest desire was to be
back in Boston, safe in the house I called a home, a house
that was no longer mine.