“You trusted the wrong man,” she said gently. “But never for the wrong reasons.”
The room was quiet a moment longer before the meeting was declared adjourned.
As the others filed out, Mr. Seaton reached for her hand, not with formality, but with fierce, fatherly pride.
There had been a time, not long ago, when she would have given anything for a word of approval. Now, it came without condition. Earned. Equal.
“I never thought I’d see the day,” he murmured.
She smiled faintly. “Neither did I.”
*
Mary-Ann folded thefinal page of the folio and placed it in the inner drawer of her father’s desk. Her pulse had steadied. Her path was clear now.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
Lydia stepped into the study with her usual poise, but something in her expression faltered when she met Mary-Ann’s gaze.
“You asked for me, Miss Seaton?” Lydia said, eyes flicking toward the desk, the window, anywhere but Mary-Ann’s face.
“Yes.” Mary-Ann gestured toward the chair. “You won’t be staying.”
Lydia blinked. “I… I don’t understand.”
“I believe you do,” Mary-Ann said quietly. “Rodney is gone. And whatever arrangement he made on your behalf no longer exists.”
Lydia didn’t sit. Her jaw tightened. “I served this household faithfully.”
“You spied on it,” Mary-Ann corrected. “And I allowed it, because I needed to see just how deep his reach extended.”
There was a long silence.
Then Lydia exhaled through her nose. “He wouldn’t have helped me, would he? Even if I’d needed it.”
Mary-Ann didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.
Lydia’s expression flickered. She glanced toward the hall, then back again. “You should know… the folio,” she said slowly. “It went missing months ago.” No one knew where it was. Not even the ones giving orders.”
Mary-Ann’s breath caught. “You’re certain?”
“I was told to search your room. I did. But it was already gone.” Lydia hesitated. “They were desperate to recover it. Desperate enough to wonder if one of their own had turned.”
Mary-Ann crossed to the desk and opened the drawer. Her fingers brushed the ribbon securing the folio.
“I found your name,” she said softly. “LF has served her purpose. The girl suspects nothing. Remove her quietly.”
Lydia went still.
“I thought you should know what they planned,” Mary-Ann added, voice still gentle. “So that you might plan something else.”
Lydia didn’t speak. When she finally did, her voice was low. “I don’t care who wins. But I’d rather not be on the losing side.”
Mary-Ann studied her for a moment. “Then give me something.”
Lydia’s voice lowered. “They meet on the last Friday of every month. St. Andrew’s Club. It’s quiet. Private. Not everyone uses their real name.”
