“It’s not really something I want to discuss at the moment.” Mr. Evans glanced at the door and looked visibly relieved when it opened and Ada arrived.
“Your Grace,” said Mr. Evans. “I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion but there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with your husband. Also, this young man – a colleague of mine – wishes to speak with you.”
The brief display of shock on Ada’s face could not be denied, though she quickly hid it beneath the concern she showed Harriet. “Dear me. What’s happened?”
“Lucy’s sick,” Harriet explained. “She’s casting up her accounts and it feels like she has a fever. I went to fetch the doctor, but got robbed on the way. The only solution that came to mind was you. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t desperate, but—”
“Why didn’t you just return home and fetch some more money?” Mr. Evans asked.
Harriet narrowed her gaze on him. “Because there wasn’t enough left. A decent doctor costs at least two pounds for the trouble. I took that with me, leaving one pound behind as savings.”
“That’s all you have available to you?” Mr. Evans asked, his voice incredulous.
“It’s more than what I’d have managed to save if I worked one of the other jobs available to someone without a high education.” She sniffed as her worry for Lucy, the beating she’d suffered, and the scrutiny Mr. Evans subjected her to collided. Her eyes started to burn so she turned away sharply and gave them a swipe, refusing to let him see her cry.
“You did the right thing,” Ada said. “I’m glad you thought to call upon me for assistance.”
The sound of footsteps announced the duke’s arrival. He greeted Mr. Evans with his given name, which only made Harriet all the more curious about their relationship. Turning, she faced the duke at the same time as he swept his gray gaze in her direction. “Who are you?”
“Mr. Michaels.”
The duke’s eyebrows dipped. “And?”
“He’s a friend,” Ada said, saving Harriet from elaborating further.
The duke stared at Harriet, scrutinizing her until she was forced to shift her position in order to dispel the jittery feeling wreaking havoc on her nerves. “How do you know him?”
“From the bookshop,” Ada told him without batting an eyelash.
He dropped her a sideways glance. “And now he’s here, in our home, looking as though he’s been beaten within an inch of his life. I do wonder why he decided to turn toyouin his hour of need.”
“As I said, he’s a friend.”
“If there’s a history between you two,” the duke said, “now would be the time to tell me.”
Ada sighed. She sent Harriet an apologetic look, then grabbed her husband by the arm and steered him toward the other end of the room. Once there, she whispered something in his ear, in response to which his expression changed. He appeared to relax and even began to smile.
“I see.” The duke straightened and returned to where he’d been standing before. He then told Harriet, “You’re most welcome, Mr. Michaels. My wife and I will help you as best we can.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Harriet nearly bobbed a curtsey but caught herself at the last moment. She gave a short bow instead. “I’m indebted to you.”
“Nonsense,” said the duke. “The best friends help one another without expecting anything in return. Ada, would you please give Mr. Michaels the funds he requires? I’m sure he’s eager to get home to his sister.”
“Of course.” Ada turned toward the door. “Please come with me, Mr. Michaels.”
Wincing despite her attempt at hiding her pain, Harriet followed Ada into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind her.
“I doubt I’ll be able to attend the book club meeting tomorrow,” Harriet said. “Will you please apologize to Emily on my behalf?”
“Of course.” Ada gave her a gentle smile. “You mustn’t trouble yourself. Emily will understand and if you need additional help, I’m sure she’ll be happy to do what she can to offer assistance.”
Harriet thanked her and waited while Ada retrieved her reticule.
“Wait here a moment,” Ada said after rummaging through it. “I need to fetch a few more coins from the study.”
Harriet nodded and gave her attention to the paintings on the wall while Ada hastened away. She’d always loved art. Some of her fondest memories were of watching her mother draw and of the two of them admiring the paintings in her childhood home together.
She glanced over her shoulder when she sensed someone approaching, thinking it might be Ada. Instead it was the butler. He entered the parlor. When he returned to the hallway a couple of seconds later, he moved as though he intended to go and complete a task. Instead, he seemed to catch himself and slowly gave her his full attention.
