“I said, I quit!” she snapped, her voice ringing with emotion. “You may keep your money. I will find my own way home.”
She turned without another word and swept from the room.
Richard remained rooted where he stood, stunned by her sudden departure, and more so by the realization that she might actually go. That would ruin everything.
Olivia, still seated on the settee, broke the silence. “That was poorly done.”
“She’s merely overreacting,” Richard said dismissively. “She’ll come around.”
“No,” Olivia responded calmly. “You were in the wrong. You were acting like a jackanapes.”
“Olivia—”
She held up a hand. “You brought her here as part of some elaborate scheme, didn’t you? And you still need her.”
His jaw tensed. “Yes, but?—”
She interrupted him again. “Then make it right. I believe in Dosia. She’s not the liar you’ve painted her to be.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am. You may not trust her, but I do. And I won’t stand by and let you ruin this because of your pride.”
He exhaled sharply and looked towards the ceiling in frustration. “What do you suggest I do?”
Olivia shrugged. “Fix it, and quickly. I don’t think she’s bluffing.”
Without another word, Richard turned and strode from the parlor. His conscience prickled, but so did something else—something uncomfortable and vaguely unfamiliar. Regret.
He reached the entry hall just in time to see Miss Theodosia speaking to the butler, likely arranging for transport.
“Miss Theodosia,” he called out. “A word.”
She turned and sighed. “No, thank you. I have no interest in hearing anything further from you.”
She pivoted towards the stairs.
“You’re being unreasonable,” he said, following her.
She stopped midway, back still to him. “And you are being your usual arrogant self.”
“I take offense to that.”
“And I take offense to your whole person,” she said, whirling around to face him. “You don’t get to dictate every aspect of my life simply because you pay my wages.”
“You are under my employ?—”
“Not anymore!” she snapped. “Or have you forgotten already that I quit?”
“You don’t mean that. This is a perfectly respectable position for someone of your?—”
“Of what?” she challenged, stepping towards him. “My station?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You forget thatI didn’t need this position. I have a profitable estate of my own. You’re the one who practically begged me to come.”
“I did not beg,” he said stiffly.
