"Angry? Bitter? Like he's punishing himself for surviving?"
Clara blinked. "Yes."
"That's our duke. All nobility and no sense. His father was the same, God rest his miserable soul."
"You were not fond of the late duke?"
"I shouldn't speak ill of the departed." Mrs. Potter paused. “Still, he was a most callous man, one who corrupted every soul he came near, even that of his poor boy.”
"Mrs. Potter!"
"What? It's true. That man destroyed everything soft in that boy, tried to make him into some perfect aristocratic heir. Never mind that Gabriel had a heart like his mother's, all feeling and nowhere to put it."
"His mother died when he was fifteen."
"Died of a broken heart, more like. Watching her husband turn her son into a stranger, sending away the only friend who made him smile."
Clara's chest tightened. "He had to. The duke threatened…"
"Oh, I know all about the threats. Heard the whole argument, didn't I? Serving tea while the old duke explained exactly what he'd do to your family if Gabriel didn't break all connections with you.”
"Gabriel never said there was anyone else there."
"Servants don't count as witnesses to the nobility. We're furniture that happens to move." Mrs. Potter's expression softened. "The boy cried, you know. He locked himself in his chambers for three days. He refused to eat or speak with anyone. And then…when he emerged …he was a different person. He was cold and harsh.
Clara had to sit down suddenly, the weight of this revelation pressing on her chest.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you're here now. Because that rose is still blooming. Because sometimes second chances come disguised as disasters."
"This isn't a second chance. I'm his employee. Temporarily."
“Is that the manner in which you describe the matter?”
"That's what it is."
Mrs. Potter gave her a look that suggested she wasn't fooled for a moment. "I came to bring supplies. Edmund said you were managing with basically nothing."
"We're fine."
"You're subsisting on Edmund's charity and whatever you can scrounge from that disaster of a kitchen."
"It's not that bad."
“My dear Child, I have witnessed the state of the kitchens. They are, I assure you, a positive outrage upon all propriety of cookery.”
Clara couldn't argue with that.
"I'll come twice weekly," Mrs. Potter announced. "Bring proper food, to ascertain that neither of you has committed any shocking impropriety, nor to ensure the establishment remains in sound repair.”
"Gabriel won't approve of it."
"Gabriel doesn't approve of anything. That's never stopped me before."
"He dismissed you."
"He tried. I ignored him. I have been ignoring dukes for forty years, not about to stop now."
