“Yes,” he said, “There has been a sudden change in plans, instead of hosting one, I am hosting three. Please get more tableware for my guests.”

“Right away, Your Grace,” she said, then inched away.

It was only when she was in the hallwaythat Louisa dared to breathe. She managed to find Mr. Oswald for more sets of silverware, and tableware, and set them correctly. The Duke was not there anymore, and she was able to do her job, but what worried her was the chance that His Grace was talking to Mrs. Wickham about her.

Was he giving the woman orders to relieve her of her duties? Her hands trembled a little at the thought—but what reason would have to fire her? It had taken her a long while and an awfully hard road to get to this placement and if she were sent away, the only place she would end up was in the workhouse, as she had nothing much to her name.

She fixed the plates, and the candelabras, before she left to the servants dining hall and ate her dinner, then slipped out into the back garden to use the few moments of private time she was given. She did it every evening, as the sunset beyond the hills were breathtaking. The large swathes of orange and dark pink were wonderful to look at and peaceful at the same time.

Taking a seat onone the wooden benches, Louisa looked around and could only feel gratefulthat she had ended up here, in a respectable household instead of a shoddy workhouse or a brothel. Most women like her, parentless and penniless, found it hard to rise-up above their disadvantaged situation and became courtesans and mistresses.

A few she did know had been fortunate to find sponsors and become governesses and lady’s maids and companions, but they were rare. At leastshe had a roof over her head, food to eat and she was working. There were a few things out of her reach, like having a relationship or being independent, but on the scale of all things, she was content.

Louisa could not count the times when she had almost fallen into despair about how bleak her future was. But in those darkest moments she had promised herself that no matter what,her unfortunate beginnings were not going to be permanent.

The sun was dipping, so she stood and left for the house. She slipped into the manor house to meander her way through the back hallways to get to the kitchen. Surely, they needed hands in the back to wash something or plate up something, but when cook handed her a spotless apron to don and pitcher of water to serve the guests, Louisa felt terrified.

“Just stand quietly at the side and wait for someone to call on you,” cook advised, then directed her out into the dining hall. Louisa managed to enter the room without any attention directed to her and stood at the side with another maid.

His Grace’s guests were another Lordand two Ladies, one older than the other with her grey hair in a graceful chignon and a strand of lovelypeals around her neck. The younger Ladyhad her blond hair in beautiful ringlets and wore a lovely peach dress, while the Lordhad duskier blond hair and merry blue eyes.

He was debating about something with His Grace, while swirling his glass of wine. “I’m telling you, Montagu, this business is going to take off with you or without you.”

The Duke gave a derisive snort.“Manufacturing lighter phaetons for racing is not my idea of wealth-gaining,Langley, all I would be doing is sending foolish men to their deaths.”

The Lord laughed.“This coming from a man who used tovolunteerfor to be someone’s second in shooting matches? A man who used to race on Rotten Row?”

“That man is dead,” Duke Westwood said, then pointedly added,“He grew up and grew wiser; I wish I could say the same for you.”

“Is that a jab at me and Whites?” Mister Langley asked, his brow cocked up.

“Whites? On no, how about:Brooks, Boodle’s, Beefsteak, the Athenium Club, the Four-in-Hand—” Duke Westwood began ticking off his finger, causing Lord Langley to rush and beg him to stop.

“All right, all right, my good man. No need to be airing my affairs for all and sundry,” Lord Langley waved him off.

“I take affront to classing me, your mother and your sister as all and sundry, William,” the dignified lady saidwhile touching her pearls. “Where are your sensibilities, William?”

“In the gutter where his manners are,” the younger Lady said.

“Liliana!” their mother said, aghast. “For shame.”

Duke Westwood looked amused, and the slight curve of his lips showed it. “Do not bother yourself too much, Lady Elizabeth; we are all familiar of their sibling love, however disturbing it is.”

“I must declare,” the older woman said. “I need some water.”

Nervously, Louisa came to the older women’s side and painstakingly poured out the water. She could feel the Duke’s eyes on the side of her head and skimming over her, but she managed to fill the glass and step away without any accidents. She rejoined the two maids at the side, while her heart beat out of rhythm in her breastbone.

She kept her eyes on her feet while feeling—again—Duke Westwood’s eyes on her, but she would never dare meet his gaze. She would not make the mistake from earlier when she had matched his eyes and could only count the moments until the dinner ended.

When the dinner ended and Mrs. Wickham led the guests to their rooms, and the Duke dismissed them, Louisa moved away quickly. She hurried to the kitchen to put the pitcher away, say her goodnights, then hurried off to her rooms.

She closed the door of her modest room and sank to the bed. Duke Westwood’s gaze was unnerving and sent some upsetting and quivering sensations into her stomach. Pressing a hand to her chest, Louisa sucked in a few stabilizing breaths.

What was Duke Westwood’s gaze doing to her, and even worse, what did he see when he looked at her?