Eliza stared at her, unable to speak.
“I know what it’s like to be so afraid that lying seems like the only option,” Imogen said gently. “I know what it’s like to build walls so high you convince yourself no one can scale them. But I also know what happens when those walls finally come down. And it’s not pretty, Eliza. Especially when the person you’ve been lying to is someone who cares about you.”
“His Grace doesn’t…” Eliza’s voice cracked. “I’m just a maid. He doesn’t care about me. Not truly.”
Her look was almost pitying. “Oh, my dear. You can’t possibly believe that.”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. It doesn’t matter what he,” Eliza pressed her hands to her face, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. “You don’t understand. I can’t tell him. I can’t tell anyone.”
“Why not, Eliza? The truth always sets you free.”
“Because I’m running from a man who killed my best friend!” The words burst out of her before she could stop them. “Because my parents are trying to force me to marry him, and if they find me, I’ll end up just like her… Broken, and dead, and forgotten!”
The admission hung in the air between them.
Imogen’s eyes widened with shock, then narrowed with something harder. Anger, perhaps. Or determination.
“Lord Whitfield,” she said quietly. “You were engaged to him.”
Eliza nodded miserably, unable to speak.
“And you ran.”
“I had no choice.”
“I understand.” Imogen stepped closer. “And I promise you, your secret is safe with me. I will tell no one, not even Ambrose, if you don’t wish it. But Eliza, you need to tell His Grace the truth.”
“I can’t.”
“You must. Morgan is a good man, he will understand?—”
“Why?” Eliza’s voice rose despite herself. “So he can pity me? So he can look at me and see a foolish girl?”
“So he can help you,” Imogen interrupted firmly. “Morgan is one of the most powerful men in England. If anyone can protect you from Whitfield, from your parents, it’s him. But he can’t do that if he doesn’t know.”
“’I don’t want to be anyone’s burden.”
“It’s not about what you want, Eliza. It’s about what’s right.” Imogen’s expression softened again. “And I’m not talking about the law, or propriety. I’m talking about the fact that Morgan cares about you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The way he defended you against Lady Fairfax?—”
Eliza’s eyes widened.
“Oh yes, I heard about that.”
Eliza flushed.
“If you leave without telling him the truth,” Imogen continued, “he will blame himself. He’ll wonder what he did wrong, what he could have done differently. The not knowing will eat at him. I’ve seen it happen before…”
“Then I’ll tell him I’m leaving because I found a better position. He’ll understand.”
“I knew you were planning to leave,” Imogen said quietly. “I can see it in the way you move through this house, already halfwaygone. But before you do, you owe Morgan the truth. Not for his sake. For yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“Because if you run without telling him, you’ll carry that guilt with you forever. You’ll wonder if things could have been different.”
Eliza wanted to argue. Wanted to insist that there was nothing real between her and Morgan, that whatever connection they’d formed was built on lies and would crumble the moment the truth came out.
But she couldn’t.
