Page 48 of The Earl She Once Saved

She shrugged slightly. “It was a long time ago.”

That did not mean it no longer hurt. Rafe knew enough of grief to understand the distinction. If anything, it made him understand the woman behind the severe expression a little better.

“There was no reason to keep me after,” she continued. “A widow with no husband in service had no claim to a position.”

“But you stayed,” Ezra pointed out.

She nodded just once. “Lady Edgeworth kept me.”

Something in the way she said Verity’s title was different. It was not mere formality, but loyalty.

“She gave me work when she had barely enough money to pay anyone. Later, when things improved, she made me housekeeper.”

She looked toward Rafe.

“She did not have to.”

“No,” he confirmed.

“She did many things she did not have to.” Her voice was quiet. “I have spent every year since trying to repay it.”

Ezra watched her, not with charm now or even sympathy, but with attention, the serious, complete kind he gave very few people.

“And have you?” he asked.

Her brows drew together. “Have I what?”

“Repaid her?”

She considered. “No.”

Ezra smiled slightly. “Then perhaps it was never a debt.”

Something softened in her face, for a brief second, then she picked up the empty tray.

“Your coffee is getting cold.”

She turned around and left, while Ezra watched the door close. Rafe waited. Ezra continued looking at it.

“Bellamy.”

“Yes?”

“You are staring.”

Ezra clarified. “I am reflecting.”

“Of course.”

Ezra took a long drink of coffee. Rafe decided, for the sake of friendship, not to mention the color rising beneath his collar.

***

Silas Crote arrived before noon and Rafe disliked him within thirty seconds.

The solicitor was perhaps forty-five, carefully dressed and smooth in every particular. His coat was excellent. His boots shone. His smile arrived before any reason for it.

“Lord Edgeworth,” the man bowed politely in greeting.