“Then don’t disappoint me,” he said, walking away before she could answer.

Mrs. Gordon exhaled almost silently as he disappeared toward the study. “He doesn’t like new staff,” she muttered.

Maya looked at the closed study door with a sense of unease. “I don’t think he likes anything at all.”

For the first time all morning, Mrs. Gordon’s mouth almost twitched into a smile. “Be very careful, girl. You notice too much.”

The rest of the day passed in a careful, suffocating silence, but Maya learned the rhythm of the mansion. The silver was counted every Friday. The sheets in the west wing were changed even though no one ever slept there.

Mr. Penhaligon took coffee at seven, which mostly went untouched. Lunch was prepared and delivered to his study, only to come back half-eaten. Dinner was usually nothing but soup—sometimes not even that.