Love Rents A Room
Chapter 164: A Quiet Morning

Chapter 164: A Quiet Morning

Joanne woke in the early hours, her body still tuned to the rhythm of farm life. Not even crossing oceans could change that. Wasn’t jet lag supposed to hit harder? She wasn’t sure. Maybe the excitement coursing through her veins canceled it out.

She stretched slowly, her limbs still deliciously heavy from rest, and took in the room around her. It was massive—easily large enough to fit her entire first floor back home. And if this was just the guest room... how grand must the master suite be?

Her eyes wandered to the intricate carvings on the tall, colonial-style bedposts. Every twist of the wood, every flourish, was a quiet masterpiece. I want a bed like this, she thought, though she wasn’t sure if craftsmen who could carve such elegance even existed anymore.

But none of it compared to the true wonder in the room—the man still asleep beside her.

As the first threads of light filtered in, Jeffrey stirred, curling around the pillow and burying his face into it. His hair, tousled and soft, fell over his forehead, obscuring his expression. His bare back faced her, sculpted and strong, and entirely hers. She leaned down, gently brushing a kiss to the curve of his neck.

It must have tickled—he tensed slightly, muscles drawing in, flexing under his skin. A shiver danced up her spine. He really is the greatest marvel in my life, she thought, heart full.

Silently, she slipped away to freshen up.

By the time she returned, the sky was beginning to lighten, casting a gentle glow over the world beyond the tall windows. Standing by the glass, wrapped in the stillness of morning, she felt like a princess surveying her kingdom—a kingdom of rolling grass, jeweled with dew, and birdsong that rose like a gentle hymn.

The view was... breathtaking.

She’d always thought her farm had the best view in the world, and maybe it still did—but now she wondered if the world held even more beauty than she had dared to imagine.

She glanced back at the bed. Jeffrey was still asleep, peaceful and unaware of how much she was falling for him all over again.

Dressing quietly, she stepped out of the room. Even the doorknob was a work of art, cool beneath her fingers, with fine etchings she hadn’t noticed before. The entire house felt alive with history, with purpose. Every brick, every molding, every shadow told a story.

And in the heart of that quiet splendor, something inside her shifted.

It was subtle—like a flower opening at dawn—but she could feel it. An elevation. A quiet confidence. They said clothes made the man, but maybe the home he lived in did too. Maybe stepping into a place like this, even for a while, reminded her of her own worth. That she belonged in places like these—not because of wealth or names, but because of who she was becoming.

And she was ready to become her grandest self yet.

The hallway was empty, but that made sense—it was still early, and the corridors stretched endlessly like something out of a dream. Joanne didn’t think the staff lived in this part of the house anyway. She’d overheard someone mention that their quarters were in another wing of the mansion entirely.

Which was probably for the best.

She was still recovering from last night’s minor mortification. When the butler—they actually had a butler—had asked what she preferred for dinner, she had been about to mumble, "Anything is fine." But before she could speak, Jeffrey, bold and shameless, had casually announced, "She prefers game meats and lots of butter. Don’t go easy on the fat."

She had nearly choked on air. The rest of the night, she couldn’t help but wonder if the staff thought she was some high-maintenance diva.

Slipping quietly down the grand staircase, she made her way to the front entrance. The ornate door was massive—more a statement than an entrance—and required a doorman, who greeted her with a kind smile and pulled it open effortlessly. Outside, the grounds were already alive with quiet activity. Some staff were taking early morning strolls, others stretching or exercising, and a few were already at work.

She greeted them with a polite smile, and to her surprise, they smiled back warmly, even enthusiastically. Despite looking more polished and refined than she ever felt, they treated her with an easy grace. And she could feel it—the curiosity, the quiet excitement in their eyes. They were happy she was there. And even happier that she talked to them like... a person.

But she knew this warmth wasn’t truly about her.

She was Philip Winchester’s guest, a man these people clearly loved and respected. Some had worked here for decades, loyal not just to the estate, but to the man who ran it like a family rather than a business. And then, there was Jeffrey—Philip’s grandson, their pride, their joy. And she... she was his.

His woman.

Maybe even his future wife.

They were curious about her, and relieved—perhaps even pleased—to find her down-to-earth, warm, and approachable. She was honored by their reception. But even more, she was proud. Jeffrey was deeply loved. And that said so much about the man she loved.

Following a gravel path, she eventually made her way to the stables.

The scent of hay, leather, and earth filled her lungs in a way that made her feel at home. When someone asked if she wanted to ride, she lit up like a child. "Good thing I’m wearing jeans," she said with a grin.

The stable boy—Gordon, his name was—laughed good-naturedly. "Betsy would be more suitable for you, Ms. Smith," he said, motioning toward... a pony.

Joanne blinked.

A pony?

She hadn’t ridden a pony since she was four. Maybe five. Ever since, it had always been horses—strong, majestic, untamed. But here she was, apparently being sized up as a first-timer. She didn’t blame Gordon—he probably thought she was just another city girl trying to play countryside. Maybe her excitement had misled him.

If she were back home, she could’ve dropped a sassy one-liner to win everyone over and get the horse she wanted. But here...

"Oh, let the big girl ride the big horse, Gordon!"

Jeffrey’s voice echoed from the stable entrance, warm and amused.