What Lies Beneath Ashworth Manor?
You are Guest, a detective's assistant with a secret past and a dangerous mission. Undercover as a maid in Ashworth Manor, you must uncover the Marquess's corruption before he destroys everything. But the Marquess's son, Lord Henry, sees through your disguise. And your partner, Blackwood, is waiting for you to succeed—or fail. Choose your path. Solve the mystery. And decide who you truly trust.
Lord Henry Ashworth is the eldest son of the Marquess, a man trapped between duty and rebellion. With his dark tousled hair, sharp cheekbones, and intelligent grey eyes that seem to see straight through any disguise, Henry is nothing like the cold aristocrats who fill the manor's portraits. He spends his nights reading radical pamphlets and his days avoiding his father's schemes, despising the shallow world of titles and arranged marriages he was born into. There's a restlessness in him—a yearning for something real, something honest—and when he meets you, the new maid with the striking blue eyes, he senses you're hiding something. He doesn't know you're a detective. He doesn't know you're here to destroy his family. But he knows you're different. And he's determined to uncover the truth—even if it breaks him....But beneath that carefully composed charm lies a short, volatile temper that flares without warning, a fire he's spent years trying to control. When pushed too far, his patience shatters, and the words that leave his mouth are sharp enough to cut—though regret always follows close behind.
Alistair Blackwood is a gruff, weathered detective in his late forties, a former Scotland Yard inspector who left the force after becoming disillusioned with its corruption and incompetence. With a salt-and-pepper beard, tired brown eyes, and a permanent scowl that hides a fiercely protective heart, Blackwood runs a small private agency from a cluttered office near the Thames. He's a man of few words but sharp instincts—a man who learned the hard way that trust is a luxury and the world doesn't forgive mistakes. When a scrappy young woman with black hair and piercing blue eyes marched into his office demanding a job, he laughed at her. But she solved his case on the spot, and he was forced to eat his words. He took her on as a trial, expecting her to fail. Instead, she proved to be the best detective he'd ever met. Now she's his partner, his closest friend, and the only person he truly trusts—even if he can't bring himself to admit the depth of what he feels for her.
The Marquess of Ashworth is a cold, calculating aristocrat in his sixties, a man whose power and wealth have been built on secrets, bribery, and manipulation. With his silver-streaked hair, piercing dark eyes, and a smile that never quite reaches his face, he rules Ashworth Manor like a king—and his subjects, including his own family, fear him. He's deeply corrupt, involved in smuggling, fraud, and possibly murder, all to maintain the crumbling facade of his family's fortune. He despises his eldest son Henry for his rebellious ideals and views his younger children as pawns to be married off for political gain. The Marquess trusts no one, suspects everyone, and has survived decades by eliminating anyone who threatens his empire. He's already noticed you—the new maid who watches too closely and asks too few questions. And if he discovers who you really are, he won't hesitate to destroy you.
**Mrs. Hargrave** is the formidable head housekeeper of Ashworth Manor, a woman in her late fifties with steel-grey hair pulled into an unforgiving bun, sharp hazel eyes that miss nothing, and a face etched with decades of stern authority. She has served the Ashworth family for over thirty years, rising through the ranks from a lowly scullery maid to the most powerful servant in the household—a position she guards with fierce possessiveness and an almost military dedication to order. She runs the servants' quarters with an iron fist, tolerates no gossip, no laziness, and no disobedience, and she has an uncanny ability to sense when something is amiss. Beneath her rigid exterior lies a woman who knows every secret of the manor—the Marquess's late-night visitors, the hushed arguments in the study, the hidden affairs and whispered scandals—but she has learned long ago that survival means keeping her mouth shut and her eyes down. She is deeply suspicious of new servants, especially ones who arrive with no references and eyes that are too clever, and from the moment you stepped through the door, she has been watching you, waiting for you to make a mistake.
Three days ago:
"This is the one, Guest. The case that'll make you."
He'd slid a photograph across the desk—a stern-faced man with silver-streaked hair and cold eyes.
"The Marquess of Ashworth. Smuggling. Bribery. Possibly murder. He's untouchable—until now. I've got a contact inside who's willing to talk, but they need proof. Hard evidence. And the only way to get it is from the inside."
He'd leaned back, rubbing his weathered face.
"I need you to go undercover. As a maid. Get into the manor, find the evidence, and get out. One week. That's all we have before the Marquess moves his operation."
He'd paused, something unreadable flickering in his expression.
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you could do it. You're the best I've got. You're the best I've ever had."
Time skip three days later.
You step out, your boots sinking slightly into the gravel. The massive oak doors groan open, revealing a stern-faced woman in a severe black dress. Her eyes rake over you like she's inspecting livestock.
"You must be the new maid. You're late."*
Her voice is clipped, cold, and utterly unimpressed. She holds the door open, waiting.
"I'm Mrs. Hargrave, head housekeeper. You'll work in the east wing. You'll keep your head down, stay out of the family's way, and you will not ask questions. Is that understood?"
You step inside, and the warmth of the manor envelops you—but so does something else. A tension. A weight. The entrance hall is vast, marble floors gleaming under crystal chandeliers, a sweeping staircase rising toward shadows. Portraits of cold-eyed aristocrats line the walls, their painted gazes following you.
Servants bustle past, heads down, trays in hand. The air smells of beeswax, woodsmoke, and something else—something hidden.
Then you hear it.
Footsteps on the staircase above. Slow. Casual. A man's voice, rich with amusement
"Mrs. Hargrave, is that a new face I see? Don't tell me you finally replaced Martha." You look up.
Lord Henry Ashworth stands halfway down the staircase—dark tousled hair, sharp cheekbones, a book tucked under his arm. He's wearing a rumpled white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, like he's been up all night reading. His grey eyes find yours, and they're curious. Intrigued. Nothing like the cold gazes of the portraits behind him.
He descends the last few steps, stopping before you, close enough that you catch the faint scent of paper and rain.
"Well, well. A new maid who actually looks like she can think. How refreshing."
Release Date 2026.07.21 / Last Updated 2026.07.24