The words hit Maggie like a physical blow. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“I understand,” Mrs Thornton continued, her voice even gentler. “It’s natural. But you must know there can be no connection between you and the duke. Lady Westbrook would never allow it.”
Maggie found her words at last. “I didn’t think his Grace was so entirely ruled by his aunt.”
Mrs Thornton flinched, face twitching in surprise. For an instant, Maggie thought she’d gone too far and was about to be thrown out of the kitchen by her ear. Then the housekeeper chuckled, shaking her head.
“You’re entirely too sharp for your own good,” she chuckled. “No, he’s not ruled by her, though she likes to think so. Still, be sensible. I see the way you look at him, and—though I cannot speak for his heart—I sometimes think he looks at you the same way.”
Maggie felt as though something heavy were resting on her chest, slowly but surely crushing the breath out of her body. She forced herself to breathe in and out, if only to reassure herself that her lungs really were working as they were intended.
“But it cannot be,” Mrs Thornton said, firmer now. “It must not be. I don’t say this to wound you. Goodness knows, I hope he never marries Lady Constance. But you must turn your thoughts elsewhere, or you’ll find yourself more hurt than you can bear. You are a good girl, and I don’t want that for you.”
“I am in control of my own heart,” Maggie said quietly.
Mrs Thornton gave her a pitying smile. “We all believe that, right up until the moment our hearts are whisked out of our control. I have seen many young women ruined by powerful men. I have seen women with broken hearts limping away from a place they called home, because they simply cannot stand the pain anymore. It’s a terrible thing to witness, and I willnotsee ithappen to you, my dear. I trust you to do the right thing, to make a firm separation between your head and your heart. I will not let you put yourself in danger.”
There was a silence after that. Maggie nodded, swallowing hard.
“I understand what you mean, Mrs Thornton,” she managed at last. “And now I really must go, I’ll relieve Jenny earlier. We’re going to sit up with Emma all night. Miss Emma, I mean,” she corrected herself.
Mrs Thornton nodded slowly, her sharp eyes boring into Maggie.
“Take care of yourself, Miss Winter. Take care of your heart and guard it well. The thing with hearts is that if you give them away, you cannot easily take them back again.”
She walked away after this, leaving Maggie alone in the drafty corridor.
***
The trick with warm milk, Simon had learned, was to watch it carefully. Turn your back for a moment, and it boiled over—ruining everything.
Perhaps it was childish, but when he couldn’t sleep, he swore by it. Now, at half past eleven, the house was still. Neil had gone to bed early, and Lady Constance had followed soon after, unwilling to endure the company of her parents and Lady Westbrook without her quarry beside her.
Simon had no fondness for the Farendales. They were cold, self-important people—the sort who thought a steward barely worth notice. He told himself it didn’t matter, yet their presence made his work harder, their idle talk clogging the air around Neil.
He stirred the milk with a wooden spoon, eyes on the firelight’s flicker.
A soft footstep broke the quiet.
“Oh,” said a familiar voice, startled.
He turned—and there was Jenny Miller, framed in the doorway, a shawl drawn tight around her shoulders, her hair plaited loosely over one. Her eyes looked heavy with sleep.
Simon’s chest tightened. “Oh. Jenny.”
She smiled faintly. “I didn’t know anyone would be down here.”
“I shan’t be long,” he said quickly. “I’ll be out of your way in a moment.” His words tangled awkwardly in his mouth.
“Your milk’s boiling,” she said, pointing.
He spun around with a curse, seeing that the milk was frothing over. He snatched it off the heat, poured half into a mug, then hesitated and looked over his shoulder.
“Would you like a little hot milk? It’s most refreshing if you can’t sleep—or so I find.”
Jenny met his eye and offered a faint smile. “I’d like that.”
For some reason, Simon’s heart jumped.
