As Emma stepped out of the car, she was hit with an immediate sense of whiplash. Excitement? Sure. But also, a healthy dose of what-the-hell-is-happening. The reception in front of her looked like something straight out of a period drama—maids curtseying, footmen handling their luggage like it contained the crown jewels, and a butler standing so stiffly at attention that she briefly wondered if he might be a statue. Front and center was a woman who radiated authority, her expression set in a look of mild disapproval, like she could sense Emma wasn’t quite up to whatever standard had been set for her.
The woman barely glanced at Emma before turning her sharp gaze to their bags, which weren’t exactly excessive. If anything, they looked almost pitifully light given the grandeur of their surr
