She sat at the desk, running her fingers lightly along it. It was hers. A small, self-satisfied smile crossed her lips. She'd worked for this day for years. It had come much quicker than she'd imagined it would.

A fortuitous illness, a trip as a ladies maid and a casual conversation with Mrs. Cross and she'd been offered the head housemaid position with the implicit understanding she would become housekeeper when Mrs. Cross retired. And to think she'd been annoyed when the young ladies maid had taken ill.

Standing she took the chatelaine from the desk and wrapped it around her waist. The heavy keys fell against her leg providing a comforting weight. She walked around the room, acclimating herself to their presence, and wondered if she would ever grow weary of their heft.

There were changes she would make to the sitting room, but not immediately. It wouldn't do to unsettle too much at once. Returning to the desk she opened the drawers, seeing if Mrs. Cross had left anything besides the ledgers behind.

In the bottom left hand drawer was a small journal. Lifting it carefully she noticed it was almost brand new. She hesitated before opening it, afraid it might be personal and didn't want to tread into something that would embarrass Mrs. Cross.

Opening just the cover, she looked for a name. What she found surprised her so much she dropped the journal on the desk. The thud echoed around the room. She looked around hoping no one had been disturbed by the noise.

Confident no one was coming to investigate she opened the cover again. Written in careful script on the first page was a simple title, "The Care and Feeding of Butlers."