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“Warren? May I joinyou for a moment?”
Something in his wife’s voice made Warren immediately stand up, and swiftly crossing the room, he opened the door to find his wife frowning, a thick envelope in her hands. “You know you never have to ask, my love.” Ushering her in, he took her straight to the couch and sat beside her. “Now, what’s wrong?”
Even after all these years, his intuitiveness still surprised her, making Alyssa smile. “You know me so well.”
“Because I love you, of course.” His tone sobered. “So tell me what’s bothering you.”
Slowly, she opened the envelope she was holding. “When I learned that Rathe found out about our contract, I started to have my suspicions.”
Warren stiffened. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. His wife had never tried to hide the fact that she did not completely trust Wilson Daughtry, his solicitor and one of his closest friends.
“And what have you found out?”
“Nothing about Wilson Daughtry.” Before Warren could breathe in relief, Alyssa added flatly, “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about Camilla.”
Taking the report out, she handed it to her husband to read. “As you can see there, she’s responsible for a lot of the rumors going around about our son.” Quietly, she also told him about the role the woman played in Rathe and Mary’s first agreement.
“And the most worrying thing about all this? I just found out that she was the one who recommended Mrs. Emerson to Rathe when his old housekeeper retired.”
“Mrs. Emerson...do you mean the servant who deliberately didn’t tell Mary about you coming to visit?”
She nodded grimly. “Thatwoman. I have no doubts she’s spying for Camilla and doing her best to wreak havoc between Mary and our son whenever she could.”
Warren said warily, “It still doesn’t prove that Wilson is involved—-”
Alyssa nodded again, having expected her husband to say it. He was a staunchly loyal man, one whose integrity was so high he had a hard time imagining the people around him were not the same.
“Shall we pay a surprise visit to Rathe’s home? I think it’s time we have a little chat with the ugly old witch in Rathe’s home.”
****
“Mrs. Emerson, whatare you doing?” The sound of the laundry basket crashing to the floor had the housekeeper whirling around, caught literally red-handed as she had just been about to clasp a choker of pearls around her neck.
Bugger, Mrs. Emerson thought. She had forgotten to lock the door in her excitement. Deciding to ignore the maid and hoping it would just make Jenny go away, she faced the mirror once more and proceeded to try on the necklace.
Mrs. Emerson greedily admired the pearls around her neck through her reflection. This should be worth a fortune, but Ms. Camilla probably wouldn’t care if she took this. After all, this once belonged to a girl she most despised.
When it became obvious Mrs. Emerson had no plans of taking off the pearls, Jenny stammered, “Those are Miss Mary’s—-”
Flushing at the look in the young maid’s eyes, she spat, “Mind your own business.”
Like all of the other servants in the duke’s home, Jenny was afraid of the head housekeeper. They had all seen how good Mrs. Emerson was at pretending to be a sweet old woman whenever the duke was around. It was like being under the thumb of a female version of Dr. Jekyll, but in this case it was the duke’s absence that turned Mrs. Emerson into something as hideous as Mr. Hyde.
“Well? Why are you still standing there?” Mrs. Emerson snapped.
“You must return that to where you took it,” Jenny said bravely. “It’s not yours and—-”
“And what?” Mrs. Emerson sneered as she took off the necklace and started twirling it around her fingers in a taunting gesture. “You’ll go and tell the duke about it? Or maybe Miss Mary?”
The older woman cackled. “Stupid bitch. That American whore will never come back.” And it was true. Miss Camilla had said so herself in her earlier text, which included instructions for Mrs. Emerson to oversee cleaning. The lady wanted the house spic and span because the next time the duke returned, it would be with Miss Camilla in his arms, his engagement ring on her finger.
Something about the woman’s tone made Jenny swallow in trepidation. She sounded so sure. Had the fight between the duke and Ms. Mary been that serious?
“I don’t believe you—-”
“You don’t have to. Once the true lady of the house comes to live with us, you shall be the first one I’ll ask her to sack. She hates nosybodies like I do, and you’re the worst of the lot.”
“At least I’m not a liar like you!” Jenny held her breath the moment the words slipped out, but Mrs. Emerson only cackled once more.
