“Incidentally, what is this fortunate young girl’s name, Windermere?” Kingsley asked.
Julian pretended to think for a moment, as though the name had escaped him. “Emily, I believe. Emily Granger,” he said, finally.
Glancing at Harper, he caught a look passing from Kingsley to his manservant. He had the distinct feeling that both men knew that he was lying.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Oh, Miss Granger, you cannot simply leave! You have only just recovered from a severe bout of fever!” Molly implored with a tremor in her voice.
She had hastened to Ester’s chamber at Theydon Mount, bearing a tray laden with bread, cheese, and slices of cold meat, accompanied by a steaming pot of tea, a porcelain cup, and a jar of honey. Ester had been in the process of dressing, doing up the buttons of her pelisse askew in her haste and requesting help from Molly when she entered. Molly put down the tray and obeyed her mistress, though she protested at Ester’s desire to leave.
“I am quite recovered, I assure you, Molly,” Ester insisted firmly, wrestling with the stubborn lace at the back of her gown and wincing slightly from the effort. “And you should know, as your employer now knows, that my name is not Emily Granger. It is Ester Fairchild.”
As Molly secured the final button, she stepped around to face her. “Ester Fairchild? You deceived His Grace about your identity?” she gasped, the words tumbling from her in a hushed, horrified whisper.
“I did. I did not know him,” Ester murmured, her gaze faltering, before she raised it again, “…and still do not. But I know at least one of his close associates and I do not care to be under the same roof.”
“But what of the…” Molly's voice trailed off, the word 'curse' lingering unspoken between them.
Ester fixed a level look at her maid. “Curse? Don’t you see, Molly? There is no curse! I was ill because I had… fallen into the lake. I was drenched through and chilled to the bone. I am better now. And there is no sign of any curse about to strike me down.”
Molly’s face was a storm of uncertainty. On the one hand, she had been assigned to Ester as lady’s maid and took her duties with the utmost seriousness. A maid was to serve, to obey without question—but what if those orders went against her sense of right? What if she believed those orders were not in the best interests of her master or mistress?
Ester firmly grasped the young maid’s shoulders and jolted her from her trance. “Molly, I am truly sorry I deceived you.” Her eyes softened, sincerity pouring through every word. “You have been nothing but kind to me, and misleading you was never my intention. But please, you must believe me when I say that I acted out of sheer necessity. And now, I… I have good reasonto believe I may be in danger. As long as I remain within these walls.”
Molly turned away, her movements frantic as she paced the room, hands clutching her head. “It is… it is my duty to inform His Grace if you plan to leave,” she stammered, voice wavering.
“—No, no, please!” Ester begged, rushing to intercept her path. “I would never ask you to defy your duties outright, nor do I wish to bring harm upon you or cause you to fall into disfavor with the Duke.” She paused, searching Molly’s conflicted gaze. “But… if you could pretend, just for a moment, that I was already gone when you brought the tray, then no harm will come to you, and I can be on my way in peace. Please.”
Ester watched as the struggle played out on the maid’s visage. She could see the young girl’s loyalty warring with her concern. It warmed Ester’s heart to see such care, but fear still pricked her skin. The knowledge that Viscount Kingsley was within these walls set every nerve on edge. The thought of him barging into the room at any moment made her blood run cold. And worse still, the gnawing dread that Julian might abandon her to his friend's sinister intentions, yielding to some unspoken pact—a claim Kingsley believed was rightfully his…
“But—but what troubles you so deeply about His Grace’s friend? He appeared quite affable, if a bit charming when I greeted him at the door,” Molly questioned, brows furrowing.
Ester was suddenly gripped by fear for Molly now. It drove her almost to anguish, knowing that she could not stay to protect theyoung girl. Nor could she whisk Molly away with her. The Duke would insist upon her return and Ester’s father would not be able to refuse him. But the thought of Kingsley setting his sights on sweet, innocent Molly made Ester’s skin crawl. How could she shield the girl from the viscount’s wretched grasp?
Seizing the maid’s arms, Ester fixed her with a solemn gaze that she hoped would betray the seriousness of her situation. “Molly, listen to me. The Viscount Kingsley is not the man he appears to be. I knew him from my home in Cheshire. He…he…” Her voice faltered, a tight knot forming in her throat, refusing to loosen. She could scarcely say it aloud. “…He is the reason my family was forced to flee our home and come to the outskirts of London, where we are not known. The scandal he caused has ruined my family’s good name. He is a cad of the worst order. A dangerous rogue. Please, I beg you—stay far from him.”
Molly’s face hardened and her hands tightened over Ester’s.
“Miss Fairchild. I have been in service at Theydon Mount since childhood and have known many men of the sort you describe. Mr. Crammond takes good care of me here, as does Mrs. Grypes. I am sure that I will be kept safe, but I will be careful if it eases your worries…” Molly paused, her brows drawing together thoughtfully. “But if this man frightens you so, why not confide in the Duke? Surely, he would protect you.”
“Because they are old friends and business associates!” Ester burst out, heart hammering. “Why would he take the word of a woman he barely knows over that of a man he trusts implicitly?” She exhaled sharply, her decision crystallizing before her eyes.“I must leave. But, Molly, I beg for your discretion.” Clasping the maid’s hands once more, Ester searched her face earnestly. “Please?”
After a tense heartbeat, Molly finally nodded. She glanced at the tray she had earlier set on the table.
“I shall take that back outside and pretend to drop it on the stairs. I was cleaning up the mess and did not see you leave the room. You were already gone by the time I reached your chambers.”
Ester let out a slow, relieved breath, her eyes briefly closing as the tension eased in her chest. “Thank you, Molly. I pray that my decision will not rebound upon you. You are innocent in all of this.” She took a moment to compose herself. “Now,” she continued, steeling herself for what came next, “can you tell me the quickest way out of the castle?”
Molly gave a firm nod and proceeded to give succinct directions, which Ester repeated under her breath, determined to commit each twist and turn to memory.
“Oh, and one final thing, Molly,” Ester added urgently, a thought coming to her then. “When I was brought here, I had a sum of coin on my person. It is not among my belongings now. Where would His Grace have put it for safekeeping?”
Molly thought for a moment.
“In his study most likely. His Grace keeps all his valuables stowed away there. In one of the desk drawers perhaps? But… that is where the Duke is hosting Viscount Kingsley.”
Ester bit down on her lip, her mind racing. The thought of stepping even a foot closer to any room where Kingsley resided filled her with visceral dread. Yet, she knew all too well what would happen if she failed to deliver the payment. The viscount would ruin her—and by extension, her family. She would rather face her father’s wrath a thousand times over than see Helen’s prospects destroyed, her chances of a proper marriage dashed, due to her own mistakes.
