mara's heart still fluttered as she stepped through the grand iron gates and entered the vast garden of the Kensington mansion. It was early autumn, and the sprawling grounds were a tapestry of warm hues golden leaves drifting lazily from ancient oaks, rich amber maples, and coppery chestnut trees. The crisp air carried the faint scent of damp earth and fallen leaves, mingled with the delicate fragrance of late-blooming roses and lavender bushes neatly lining the stone pathways.
Several gardeners in dark green uniforms were tending the beds, pruning shrubs and sweeping leaves with steady hands. Their quiet presence added a gentle rhythm to the otherwise still morning.
A tall man in a sharp navy uniform soon approached Amara, his posture impeccable as he greeted her with a polite nod. "Miss Selwyn? I'm James, the estate manager. Please, follow me."
Amara followed him up the wide stone steps to the mansion's grand entrance. The door opened smoothly to reveal an elegant, spacious interior bathed in soft natural light filtering through tall windows. The walls were lined with rich mahogany panels and adorned with classic paintings, while thick Persian rugs softened the polished floor beneath her feet.
Inside, seated comfortably by a large oak table, was the elderly gentleman she had come to meet. His silver hair was neatly combed, and though he sat in a wheelchair, his posture was dignified. A warm smile softened his lined face, his eyes twinkling behind thin-rimmed glasses. Beside him stood a woman in a crisp black uniform stern yet approachable. She introduced herself with a small bow. "I'm Mrs. Harding, the head housekeeper. I was the one who answered your call."
Amara returned their greetings politely, her eyes lingering on the man as he looked up at her with a gentle, pleasant smile. "Please, have a seat," he invited, gesturing to a comfortable armchair opposite him.
As she settled in, the man asked kindly, "What would you like to drink, Miss Selwyn?"
Without hesitation, Amara replied, "A cup of tea, please."
Almost immediately, she added with a shy smile, "No, wait, coffee is fine if that's easier."
The man chuckled, a rich, warm sound. "Why would you think we don't have tea at home? This is the first time I've noticed someone from your generation choosing tea over coffee."
Amara's cheeks flushed lightly. "It's a habit from my country. Tea is always the first choice comfort in a cup."
Just then, Mrs. Harding returned, pushing a polished silver trolley laden with delicate English treats slices of Victoria sponge cake dusted with icing sugar, buttery scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam, and rich chocolate squares alongside steaming pots of tea.
Amara chose a piece of chocolate cake, savoring the dense, sweet bite paired perfectly with the fragrant tea. The aroma of the tea leaves, mellowed by the warm creaminess of the milk, filled the air a soothing blend of bergamot and black tea. She had the habit of waiting for her tea to cool before taking a sip, a small ritual she never broke.
While they spoke, Amara held the cup carefully with both hands, gently feeling the warmth radiating from the porcelain. She patiently waited for the tea to cool, a small ritual she found comforting amid the unfamiliar surroundings. Noticing her hesitation, the gentleman smiled kindly and asked, "Why don't you drink it? Is it not to your liking?"
Amara glanced up shyly and replied, "I'm used to drinking tea once it's cooled down a bit. It's just a habit from back home I find it easier to enjoy that way."
He chuckled softly, clearly amused. "What an interesting young lady you are. Most wouldn't wait so patiently."
Their conversation flowed easily from there. He asked about her university, her course of study, and her class schedule. Amara explained she attended classes two days a week, which left her free the rest of the time including weekends. He nodded thoughtfully, then inquired gently about her family, creating a relaxed atmosphere that felt more like friendly chat than a formal interview.
The chat was honest, warm far from a typical interview. Within the hour, Amara's joyful, cheerful nature blossomed, lighting up the room and drawing a genuine smile from the usually reserved man.
For a brief moment, the grand house felt a little less imposing, softened by the spark of connection between them.