Alice Reed paused as his fiancée Rosalind Shaw slid an open shoebox toward her

Beyond the heavy velvet silk drapes separating the dining hall from the service corridors, Alice Reed leaned weakly against a marble column. The twenty-five-year-old housemaid was breathtakingly beautiful, possessing delicate features and fair, rosy skin, but tonight she looked entirely broken. Her fitted black maid dress was creased, her crisp white apron was terribly rumpled, and her ruffled white lace headband sat noticeably askew in her disheveled hair.

Her expressive eyes were profoundly puffy and darkened with deep shadows from prolonged crying. She possessed an exhausted, deeply vulnerable manner that sharply contradicted the festive elegance of the estate.

"Alice, you cannot stay hiding out here," the head butler whispered harshly, adjusting his own collar. "The main course is nearly finished. Mr. Ashford requires his water glass refilled."

"I am trying, sir," Alice replied, her American accent trembling so violently she could barely form the words. "But if Miss Shaw sees me again..."

"Miss Shaw is the future lady of this house," the butler interrupted coldly. "You spilled red wine on her emerald gown this afternoon. You are lucky she only reprimanded you privately. Now dry your eyes and do your job."

Alice squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the sheer, vindictive cruelty of that afternoon. It had been an accident, a brief collision in the hallway, but Rosalind had used it as an excuse to unleash hours of psychological torment.

Before Alice could take a step, a small hand tugged gently at her rumpled white apron.

"Mommy?" a small voice asked.

Alice opened her tear-filled eyes and looked down. Six-year-old Jamie Ashford stood before her, dressed impeccably in a charcoal suit and a burgundy tie. The little boy looked up at her with large, innocent eyes, completely ignoring the scolding butler. Over the past year, Jamie had found unwavering comfort in the gentle maid, adopting her as the maternal figure he desperately craved.

"Jamie," Alice breathed, dropping to her knees on the marble floor. She pulled the boy into a desperate, tight hug. "You should be out there with your father."

"Auntie Rosalind told me to stay away," Jamie murmured, wrapping his small arms around her neck. "She said she was making a special Christmas gift for you. With shiny Christmas glitter."