Mrs. Finch’s voice pulled her back. The housekeeper was watching her with something that looked like concern beneath her professional composure.
“Are you well?”
Was she well? She did not know. Her hands had gone cold, and her pulse was racing. But she was still standing. Still functioning. Still maintaining the composure expected of a duchess.
“I am perfectly well, Mrs. Finch. Thank you for bringing this to my attention so quickly.”
“I should have caught it sooner. I pride myself on knowing everything that happens in this household, and a viper was living under our roof for three months.”
“You caught her in the end. That is what matters.”
Movement at the doorway made them both turn. August stood there, still in his riding clothes, his face flushed from exertion. He must have just returned from inspecting the northern fields. His gaze swept the room, taking in the assembled servants, Mrs. Finch’s rigid posture, Eliza’s too carefree composure.
“What has happened?” His voice was controlled, but she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands had formed into fists at his sides.
“A household matter,” Eliza said. She was aware of all the servants watching, listening. This was not a conversation to have in front of an audience. “Perhaps we might speak in your study?”
He looked at Mrs. Finch, who nodded once. Whatever he saw in the housekeeper’s face made his expression darken.
“Of course. Mrs. Finch, you have matters well in hand?”
“Yes, Your Grace. The situation has been resolved.”
August stepped back from the doorway, waiting for Eliza to precede him into the hallway. She moved past him, and the servants began to disperse behind them, their whispers rising as soon as they thought the Duke and Duchess were out of earshot.
They walked in silence through the hallways and up the stairs. August matched his stride to hers, but she could feel the questions radiating from him, the barely contained need to know what had just transpired. She kept her eyes forward.
His study door closed behind them with a quiet click, and the mask of composure finally cracked.
“Tell me,” he said.
So she did. She told him about Mrs. Finch discovering Martha in her writing desk. About the confession—Lady Wilhampton’s payments, the three letters, the instructions to spy on them and report back. She told him about the five pounds and Martha’s tearful justification that she had thought she was helping an old family friend.
With each word, she watched August’s face grow darker. By the time she finished, his jaw was clenched so tightly she thought his teeth might crack.
“That scheming—” He bit off whatever word had been about to emerge. “I should have known. From the beginning, I should have known it was her.”
“How could you have known?”
“Because I know her.” He paced to the window and back, his movements sharp. “I have known her for years, and I know what she is capable of when she sets her mind to something.”
Eliza lowered herself into one of the chairs facing his desk. Her legs felt unsteady, and she did not trust them to continue holding her upright much longer.
“The maid has been dismissed,” she said. “Mrs. Finch is seeing to it that she is removed from the property immediately.”
“Good. And Martha will not receive references?”
“No.”
“Good,” he said again. He stopped pacing and turned to face her. “Eliza, I need you to know something. I need you to understand this completely.”
She looked up at him, and something in his expression made her chest tighten.
“I never had any involvement with Lady Wilhampton.” He paused and took a breath as if to rearrange his thoughts. “She has pursued me for years. Since before my father’s illness, since before I met you. She has made her interest abundantly clear on numerous occasions, and I have declined her attention every single time.”
“August—”
“No, you need to hear this.” He crossed to her chair and dropped into a crouch before her, bringing them to eye level. “She is a widow with social connections and a title, and she believed that made her a suitable candidate to be my duchess. I never encouraged her. Not once. Not in any way that could be construed as romantic interest.”