“What was stolen?”
She couldn’t reply because—as far as she was aware—nothing was missing. But Miss Fishburn was a slattern, so she would have stolen something if given the chance.
“I haven’t checked your dressers,” she said. “Besides, I wouldn’t know what was there in the first place. I’m not the person to make a list of the items.”
“The legal papers mentioned cufflinks.”
“Hmm . . .” she mused. “I recollect an allegation to that effect.”
“You had them jailed, and you forged my signature on the complaint. Then you used my seal—very much without my permission—so you could pretend that I was seeking the harsh treatment.”
“Don’t blame me for acting in your stead. I alerted you to Miss Carstairs’s scheme. I dumped the entire mess in your lap, but you ignored my advice. You didn’t threaten her. You didn’t buy her silence. You let her waltz off to town and inform the whole world. Gad, it was reported in the newspapers! I’ve never been so mortified.”
“What an odd statement.” His assessment became even more intense. “Why would you have been mortified? If anyone should be affronted, shouldn’t it be me? It’s my reputation and my lost daughter. How does the story impact you in the slightest?”
“Not impact me! Am I a member of this family or aren’t I? Am I your staunchest friend or not? If my efforts on your behalf can be so easily discounted, what have I been doing here all these years?”
The bitter words were out before she could swallow them down. They seemed to reverberate off the walls, and with her tiptoeing out onto such a dangerous ledge, his response was exactly what she could have predicted.
“I’ve been asking myself that very question,” he said. “Why have you been here?”
“I’ve been assisting you! I raised your children and ran your home. I shouldered the burdens a wife would have carried, and I won’t be denigrated for it. I’ve always had your best interests at heart.”
“Have you?” he blandly inquired.
“Yes, and don’t you dare deny it. In every instance, I’ve toiled away as hard as I could to make you happy.”
He frowned and shook his head. “That excuse won’t work this time. I’m a lazy lord. I admit it, and I’ve let you assume more and more authority rather than fight about it. Evidently, you now believe you have power that’s equal to mine.”
“I would never presume that.”
“You were eager to harm Miss Fishburn—simply because you were jealous.”
His affair was at the root of her pique, but she had no idea how to debate the issue. Who wouldn’t be jealous? She’d persuaded herself he would eventually marry her, but obviously, he never would have, so where did it leave her? Why couldn’t he comprehend how deeply she’d been wounded?
“You’ve shamed me with her,” she said. “You engaged in illicit conduct with a harlot—right under our roof—and you never paused to wonder how I might feel about it.”
“I thought I was very clear with you about my relationship with Miss Fishburn, but I guess I have to repeat myself. If I choose to grow friendly with her—or any other woman for that matter—it’s none of your business.”
“I’m to have no opinion?”
“No.”
She might have been a puppy he’d kicked to the curb, and she yearned to curl up in a ball and die.
“I’m not sure what to do with you,” he said, “and I’m curious to hear your suggestions. You’ve stepped over so many lines this week that I can’t count them all.”
“I’ve stepped over no lines! I’ve been helping you. Why can’t you understand that fact?”
“I figured that would be your defense—you were helping me—but you’ve provided aid I don’t want and would never have allowed.”
“What is that supposed to mean? Are you about to claim that charlatan, Libby Carstairs, is Henrietta?”
“I can’t imagine how I’ll proceed, but I will decide. Not you.”
“What about Miss Fishburn? Will you convey her to Roland so you can renew your affair? Will you force me to watch while you disgrace yourself?”
“I don’t plan to make you watch me ever again.”
There was a grim finality to his words that halted her in her tracks. “What are you talking about? Don’t speak in riddles.”
“It’s time for you to move home and reside with your brother again. It’s time he took charge of you.”
“Move . . . home? You’re being absurd. This is my home. It has been since Florence passed away.”
“I shouldn’t have permitted you to live with us.”
She huffed with offense. “Isn’t it typical that you’d reach your conclusion after I’ve sacrificed my best years for you?”
“I told you—on many occasions—that you shouldn’t waste your life on me, and I have to correct my mistake. I’m sending you back to your brother.”
“No! I refuse to obey you. He’s married to a harpy who rules the roost like a vicious quartermaster. What would I do there?”
“I don’t believe that’s my problem.”
“I doubt they’d let me come. They assume I belong with you.”
“You convinced yourself that you belong here, but I never thought you did.”
It was the cruelest comment ever uttered in her presence, but he wasn’t cruel. Normally, he was kind and polite, so he was more upset than she’d realized. She pushed off her chair and rounded the desk. She fell to her knees and clasped his hand.
“You’re distraught,” she said, “and I recognize why you are. You can’t bear to be embroiled in a scandal, so you’re lashing out at me—when there’s no reason to blame me. Try to see this from my point of view. I was merely keeping you safe from Miss Carstairs’s machinations.”
“It’s what is vexing me, Millicent. I didn’t need you to keep me safe. Whatever happens with Miss Carstairs, it’s between her and me. The situation with Miss Fishburn is the same. Now get up. You’re embarrassing yourself—and me.”
He stood and yanked her to her feet, as behind them, the door opened. She glanced over and frowned when she noticed who’d entered. It was the slothful, impertinent housemaid, Peggy, who’d eavesdropped on Miss Carstairs and
