“Are you certain? Perhaps at some ball or dinner party? Where were you employed before?”
Morgan saw her hands tremble slightly before she clasped them behind her back. “I have only worked in His Grace’s household, my lady.”
Arabella’s eyes narrowed further, but before she could press the matter, Morgan intervened.
“That will be all, Miss Graham. Thank you.”
Ellie curtsied quickly, too quickly, and turned to leave.
“Actually,” Arabella said suddenly, her voice saccharine sweet. “Could you pour the sherry first? I’m absolutely parched.”
Ellie froze as if shot, then turned back slowly. “Of course, my lady.”
Morgan watched, uneasy, as she returned to the table and lifted the decanter with steady hands. She poured the amber liquid into the first glass, then reached for the second.
Arabella leaned forward as though to accept the glass and then, in a movement so swift Morgan almost missed it, her hand jerked out and knocked the glass from Ellie’s grip. The crystal shattered against the table before tumbling to the floor, sherry splashing across the expensive Persian carpet in a spreading stain.
“Oh!” Arabella gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “How clumsy!”
Ellie immediately dropped to her knees, trying to gather the broken crystal. “I’m so sorry, Your Grace. I’m terribly sorry, my lady. I don’t know how it happened…”
“Clearly you don’t know how to properly serve drinks,” Arabella said coldly, examining her glove as though checking for stains. “Oh, Morgan, I really must insist you find more competent staff. This is the second time I’ve witnessed this girl’s incompetence.”
Morgan had been watching the entire exchange, and he’d seen exactly what happened. The deliberate movement of Arabella’s hand. The calculated shock in her voice. The way Ellie had immediately taken the blame, her head bowed, avoiding eye contact. Something cold and sharp settled in his chest.
“Miss Graham,” he said quietly. “Please stand up.”
Ellie rose slowly, her hands full of broken glass, her face pale.
“It’s only a carpet,” Morgan said, his tone gentle. “Mistakes happen. You can clean it up later. Please, take the glass to the kitchen and attend to your other duties.”
“Your Grace, I…”
“That will be all.”
Her eyes met his for just a moment, wide, startled, grateful, before she curtsied and hurried from the room, still clutching the broken crystal. The door closed behind her.
Morgan turned to Arabella, his expression carefully neutral. “That was unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate?” Arabella laughed. “Morgan, the girl is clearly incompetent. I could recommend several excellent agencies who could provide you with proper staff. People who know how to handle expensive crystal without destroying it.”
“How kind of you.” Morgan’s voice was flat. “But I’m quite satisfied with my current staff.”
“Are you?” Arabella’s eyes glittered. “Because from where I’m sitting, you seem to have a particular… fondness for that one.”
“I’d be careful with my next words, if I were you, madam.”
“Oh, don’t play coy with me, Morgan. I’ve known you for years. I saw the way you looked at her just now. The way you defended her.”
“I did nothing of the sort. I do not care for someone who meddles in my affairs, and you would do well to remember whose home you are standing in.” Morgan stood abruptly. “’”
She rose as well, moving closer to him with the confidence of a woman who’d never been refused. “I came here thinking we might… rekindle old flames. But now I’m wondering if your interests lie elsewhere. In decidedly inappropriate directions.”
“I think,” Morgan said carefully, “that you should leave. Your opinions are unwanted, and of no consequence to me.”
Arabella’s expression hardened. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m quite tired this evening. Perhaps we can continue this conversation another time.”
