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Mrs. Tannsen pulled her rigid spine straighter and looked directly at Vangie. “My lady, your chamber is readied.”

“Put her in the south tower.”

At the crash of a teacup shattering, Vangie’s gaze flew to Jasper. He remained stooped over the service, slack-jawed, gawking at the Dowager Viscountess Warrick in utter disbelief.

“I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Tanssen croaked, her eyes dinner plate wide.

A shiver stole over her. Something was too smoky by far. Was there something wrong with the south tower?

“You heard me. Lock her in the south tower.” Though softly spoken, the dowager’s tone was jubilant.

Lock me in the tower? Vangie mentally shook her head. She’d heard wrong. Surely she must have. Lucinda couldn’t mean to imprison her.

Jasper drew himself up, indignation written across his noble face. “Madam, you overstep your bounds.”

“Do I?” she mocked. “Who’s here to say otherwise? You heard Warrick yourself. Did he not ask me to make the arrangements we’d discussed at once?”

Ian told her to lock me in the tower?

Confident of her position and authority, her mien smug, she arched an eyebrow expectantly.

Jasper straightened, outrage emanating from every pore.

With an arrogant angle of her graying head, she said, “Just what do you thinkhe was referring to?”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know,” he said, his flared nostrils a sign of his contempt. He adjusted his waistcoat, leveling her a lethal glare. “But I doubt it had anything to do with relegating his bride to the tower as a prisoner.”

Vangie felt the glimmer of hope she’d foolishly nourished, sputter and die.

“She’s the lady of the manor now, not you.” Mrs. Tanssen turned down her mouth into a mutinous frown. “I shan’t do it.” She folded her arms, challenging the dowager.

“Won’t you?” The Dowager Viscountess Warrick inspected the black lace on her sleeve and shrugged nonchalantly. “Fine. You’re terminated then.” She raised her gloating gaze, an unpleasant smile distorting her thin lips.

Mrs. Tanssen exhaled sharply. “I’ve been in residence at Somersfield far longer than you, my lady.” She pointed at the dowager. “Youdon’t have the authorityto dismiss me without a character. Only Lord Warrick can give me my congé.”

“Mrs. Tanssen is correct, and I answer to Lord Warrick, and only his lordship as well,” Jasper said, a challenge in his eyes too.

“Shall I send for the magistrate? I’m sure he’d be willing to escort two trespassers from the premises.” Her eyes frigid, yet eerily hollow, the dowager’s attention vacillated between the majordomo and housekeeper.

Vangie’s stomach roiled at the vengeance in the Lucinda’s eyes. “I’ll go,” she said, with a great deal more calm composure than felt.

Everyone’s attention whipped to her.

She almost smiled at the disappointed expression that flashed across the dowager viscountess’ face. Likely, she’d hadn’t expected her to acquiesce easily. In fact, she suspected Lucinda had hoped she would have to be hauled, bound and gagged, to the tower.

With poise Vangie was far from feeling, she started for the drawing room’s doors. She paused after a few steps, sweeping Mrs. Tannsen and Jasper with her gaze. “I’ll not have you lose your positions or permit your forcible removal on my account.”

She was quite sure the dowager didn’t have the authority to dismiss the housekeeper or butler, but she could have them barred from the premises until Ian returned. “It’s only for a fortnight,” she stoically reminded them. Meeting the dowager’s wintry eyes, she angled her chin. “When Ian returns, things will be put aright.”

Though, if the dowager spoke the truth, how she would overcome this latest wounding to her soul, she knew not. Turning her back on her mother-in-law, Vangie closed her eyes, fighting the urge to burst into tears. She willed herself to be strong.

Please God, let her be lying.

A lying tongue lasts only a moment, tikna,but truthful lips endure forever.

Again, Puri Daj’s wise words brought a degree of solace to her. The prospect of at least two weeks locked within a chamber caused her no small amount of trepidation. Uncle Percival had locked her in her room for two days once. The inactivity and boredom had been nearly intolerable.

She looked over her shoulder, scrutinizing her ladyship, trying to gauge the truthfulness of her words. Did she expect her to bolt from the premises without so much as a glance behind her? Did she think to frighten her off by threatening weeks of confinement?