"Is it?"
Clara looked at the closed library door. "It has to be."
"Why?"
"Because I'm leaving in the spring. Because he's a duke and I'm nobody. Because we can barely be in the same room without arguing or…" She stopped.
"Edmund, please."
“I am merely stating, if you care about him…and you clearly do, then help him. Not as an employee. As someone who knew him before."
"He's not that person anymore."
"No, but he could be. Or at least something closer to it."
Clara considered. "What would you need me to do?"
"Make the house presentable. Make him presentable. Convince him to hire staff and attend at least one social function.”
Clara looked at the library door again. Behind it, Gabriel was probably drinking brandy and plotting ways to make everyone leave him alone. Or possibly just sitting in the dark, allowing Lady Agatha's words to eat at him like acid.
“Very well then, I shall do my best.”
“We both shall,” Edmund corrected. “The social arrangements shall be my concern. Your duty shall be to keep him in proper order.”
Edmund left shortly after, promising to return with plans and possibly Margaret's strategic advice. Clara stood in theentrance hall for a long moment, gathering courage, then knocked on the library door.
"Go away."
"No."
"That's insubordination."
"Add it to my list of crimes."
"The list is getting rather long."
"Then one more won't matter."
Silence. Then: "Fine. Enter at your own risk."
She found him exactly as expected…in his chair, brandy in hand, staring at nothing in particular.
"It's ten in the morning," she observed.
"Time is a social construct."
"Your aunt is a social construct. An unpleasant one."
"She's not wrong, though."
"She's entirely wrong."
"I am hiding in a crumbling estate with only a mysterious woman for company."
"And Edmund."
"Edmund doesn't count."
