Her meaning was unmistakable.
Morgan felt Ellie tense beside him. When he glanced at her, she had her head bowed, her face carefully blank and cheeks red as a macintosh. But her hands were trembling.
“Lady Fairfax,” Morgan said, his tone carefully controlled. “I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time. I’m not receiving visitors this evening.”
Arabella laughed, a practiced, almost musical sound. “Oh, Morgan. Don’t be tedious. We both know I’m not avisitor.” She reached out, trailing one gloved finger along his cravat. “We have such a pleasant history, you and I. Surely you haven’t forgotten?”
He hadn’t. Arabella had been his lover for several months, two years ago. The affair had been convenient, uncomplicated, and entirely physical. When it ended, by mutual agreement, they’d parted on good terms, ready to seek out other… carnal companions. He thought their little nightly visits were done for good. Or so he’d thought.
“That was in the past,” Morgan said, gently but firmly removing her hand from his chest and crossing his arms. “Things change.”
“Do they?” Arabella’s gaze flicked to the maid again, something sharp and assessing in her eyes. “Or perhaps you’ve simply found a new… distraction?”
Ellie went rigid.
“Miss Graham is a member of my household staff,” Morgan said coldly. “Nothing more.”
The words were meant to protect her, to deflect Arabella’s suspicion. But he saw the way she flinched, saw the hurt flash across her features before she masked it.
“Of course she is,” Arabella said, her tone dripping with false sweetness and a click of her tongue. She leaned closer to Morgan, lowering her voice to what she clearly imagined was a seductive whisper. “Send her away, darling. We have so much to… discuss.”
Morgan felt disgust rise in his throat. Had he truly found this woman appealing once? Had he actually enjoyed her company?
“Miss Graham,” he said, not looking at Ellie. He couldn’t. “You… You’re dismissed.”
“Your Grace,” Ellie replied, her voice carefully neutral.
She curtsied to him, then to Arabella, and moved toward the door, but as she passed Arabella, the widow’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Have I seen you somewhere before?” Arabella asked suddenly.
“No, my lady,” Ellie replied as she froze mid step.
“Are you certain? There’s something familiar about you.”
“I’m quite certain, my lady. I would remember.”
“Hm.” Arabella studied her for another long moment, then waved her hand dismissively. “Run along, then, girl.”
And with that, Ellie fled—there was no other word for it. She moved quickly and quietly, but Morgan could see the panic in the stiff set of her shoulders, the way her hands clenched in her skirts. The door closed behind her with a soft click.
Arabella turned back to Morgan, her cheshire smile returning. “Now then. Where were we?”
“You were leaving,” Morgan said flatly.
Her smile faltered. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said, you were leaving.” Morgan moved past her, opening the study door pointedly. “I appreciateyour… interest, Lady Fairfax. But I’m not interested in renewing our acquaintance.”
“Morgan…”
“I’ll have my footman call your carriage.”
Arabella’s expression shifted from surprise to indignation. “You’re dismissing me? For amaid?”
“I’m dismissing you because I choose to,” Morgan said, his voice hard now. “The reasons are my own.”
“This is absurd.” Arabella drew herself up, her eyes flashing. “Eight months ago, you couldn’t keep your hands off me. And now you’re turning me away for some common servant girl?”
