For a long moment, Arabella simply stared at him, her face flushing with anger. Then she laughed, a brittle, ugly sound.
“Twice,” she said. “You’ve dismissed me twice now. For a servant.”
“I’m dismissing you because I’m tired,” Morgan said evenly.
“Liar.” Arabella snatched up her reticule, her movements sharp with fury. “You’re making a fool of yourself, Morgan. Over a common maid who probably can’t even read.”
“Watch. Yourself. That is quite enough.”
“Struck a nerve, hmm?”
“You are becoming a bore, the way you drone on about a topic of no consequence, as I said. “Goodnight, Lady Fairfax.”
“This isn’t over. You cannot do this to me…”
“It is over. We are over.”
Arabella’s eyes narrowed, flicking between Morgan and the door Ellie had disappeared through. Something calculating crossed her features, something that made Morgan’s skin crawl like a snake grazing an ankle.
“We’ll see,” she said softly. “We’ll see.”
“Do not push me,” he said with a growl.
Then she slithered from the room in a rustle of silk and fury, not waiting for him to escort her out. Morgan heard the front door slam a moment later, hard enough to rattle the windows.
He stood alone in the drawing room, staring at the spreading stain on his carpet, and wondered what exactly he’d just done.
In the kitchen, Eliza set the broken crystal carefully on the worktable, her hands shaking so badly the pieces rattled against each other.
Lady Fairfax had recognized her this time. Well, not fully, or not yet… but she’d been close. So terribly close.
And worse, she’d seen. She’d seen the way the Duke had looked at her. The way he’d defended her.
Eliza pressed her hands flat against the table, trying to steady herself, trying to breathe through the panic clawing at her chest.
Lady Fairfax was dangerous. Vindictive now, she knew it. If she started asking questions, started digging into Eliza’s past…
It could destroy everything.
Chapter Fifteen
“Miss Graham, we’ll be leaving in ten minutes. Do make sure you have your cloak and bonnet.”
Eliza looked up from the linens she’d been folding, her stomach dropping. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Dawson, leaving for where?”
The housekeeper was already halfway out the door, a list in her hand and purpose in her stride. “I need to run several errands in town. Let’s see, the draper’s, the grocer’s, and we absolutely must stop at the milliner’s. I’ll need an extra pair of hands.”
“Perhaps one of the other girls…”
“The other girls are occupied with the spring cleaning.” Mrs. Dawson paused, turning back with a slight frown. “Is there a problem, Miss Graham?”
Yes. A very large problem. The problem being that venturing into the heart of London’s shopping district was precisely the sort of exposure I have been trying to avoid.
“No, Mrs. Dawson. Of course not. I’ll fetch my things.”
“Good girl. Meet me at the servants’ entrance.”
Eliza’s mind raced as she climbed the stairs to retrieve her cloak. Perhaps she could feign illness? But Mrs. Dawson had seen her not five minutes ago, perfectly healthy. A headache? Too convenient. An urgent task His Grace required? Too easily verified.
