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“I hope you’re right. I keep asking myself why I am still here. All the little things I took pleasure in now seem like chores. Perhaps I am losing my mind like my mother, and Arnold will have me locked up.”

Hettie was growing agitated, as if the conversation had taken a turn she did not like. “Lady Ellerslie, you will be late.”

“And I mustn’t be late, must I? There are too many people who will be displeased with me. I must be a good little general.” She was being strange and bitter, and Hettie went to move away from her. Portia clasped her maid’s hands and tried to reassure her with a smile. “Forgive me. I hardly know what I am saying. Thank you for making me look elegant.”

Hettie nodded, the tension leaving her. “It is my pleasure to serve you, my lady. I will come with you to the coach, in case you need help arranging your skirts.”

Portia put on a brave face, but at the head of the stairs she almost turned and ran when she looked down and saw that Arnold was waiting for her. She was weary of this; the sooner it was over with, the better. Still grasping one of Hettie’s hands, a sudden thought occurred to her, and she took a chance. “Hettie will come with me tonight,” she said loudly. “There is really no need for you to bother yourself, Arnold.”

“It is no bother,” he insisted with his cold smile.

“Nevertheless, Hettie will come. I may need help managing my skirts and she will be much more useful at that than you.”

Their eyes met, Arnold’s watchful, and then he smirked. “As a matter of fact I have another engagement, Portia. I was about to tell you I thought you were well enough to go on your own, but now you’ve put it into my mind you’re right; Hettie can go with you.”

If it was a victory, he’d taken it away from her. She felt she should be angry but she was just relieved that she’d be spared Arnold’s company. And then she realized.

This was their chance. This was the moment they had been preparing for.

“Fetch your cloak, Hettie,” she instructed, turning to face her maid, her face stiff with the effort to appear unconcerned. “The carriage will be here in a moment. Don’t forget my sari.”

Hettie’s startled eyes fixed on hers. “Yes, of course, my lady. I will not forget.”

Now it was up to Hettie to put their agreed-upon plan into action.

Slowly, Portia descended the staircase, careful in her voluminous skirts, telling herself that she must not give herself away. Sometimes it was as if Arnold could read her mind…

“Where’s Lara?” Portia asked.

Arnold was leaning negligently against the newel post, still watching her. “I believe my wife is instructing your cook in the correct way to serve the soup. Don’t worry, when you’ve come to your senses, Lara will come to hers.”

“Will she?” Portia lifted an eyebrow. “I thi

nk she is enjoying herself far too much.”

He laughed. “She is crowing a little loudly, isn’t she? You can’t blame her for making the most of the opportunity; she’s hated you for years.”

Portia gave him a curious look. There was something about him she had never liked. A slyness. As if he knew things, or thought he did, that others didn’t. She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought of his behavior toward her, then remembered that he could change his mind and come with her after all, which would ruin everything. She remained silent.

But he knew. “You loathe me, don’t you, Portia? That’s because I am better than you. Although I am a close observer of men and women, and it never surprises me how low they can sink in the sewer of greed and desire, I do not indulge in such depravity myself.”

“Oh, are you above all that?” she mocked.

“I am,” he replied without any irony whatsoever.

“I don’t believe you.”

His eyes went cold. “You will understand one day, Portia.”

“My lady!” Hettie hurried down the stairs with her cloak, looking flustered.

Portia looked up into Arnold’s eyes. “I will never understand you, Arnold, and I do not want to. I despise you.”

She turned away before he could answer, moving toward Deed, who had just appeared from the depths of the house to take his place by the door. “Deed,” she said in a low voice, “you have your instructions? I believe this is the evening we previously discussed.”

“I remember, my lady. Miss Hettie has already mentioned it to me. And may I just say, it has always been my greatest pleasure to serve you, my lady.”

Aware that Arnold was watching, she nodded, as if their conversation was nothing out of the ordinary. “And the coachman is aware of his orders?”

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