Chapter Twenty-Two
The physician arrived. Lucy hadn’t intended to be anywhere in the vicinity when the man arrived. She did not like Mr. Blackburn, and did not like how he treated Lady Morendale. For her part, the physician barely seemed to notice her, and neither did Lord Tidemore.
She happened to be in the front parlour, collecting Patrina’s book to bring to her. It was the quiet afternoon hour before it was time to get ready for Lady Ashworth’s party – which of course Lucy would not be attending – and nobody had much to do. The house was quiet. Lucy had just picked up the book when the door opened. She heard Lord Tidemore’s voice before she saw him.
In a rush of panic, Lucy darted behind the curtains, clutching the book to her chest.
“You assured me that everything was in hand, Mr. Blackburn,” Lord Tidemore said, sounding thoroughly annoyed. “Neil plans to dispense with your services. Or at least reduce them.”
The physician heaved a sigh. “I am not a magician, Lord Tidemore.Youassured me that you could convince him of the correct path. The late Lord Morendale never doubted me, until at the very last.”
“Yes, yes, enough of that. Whatarewe going to do next, then? Hm?”
Lucy bit her lip, straining her ears. There was something wrong about this conversation. Oh, it could be easily written off as a simple conversation between a concerned cousin and an experienced physician, and yet… and yet there was somethingamiss.
“The schedule must be brought up, I believe,” Mr. Blackburn said, his voice a low rumble. “It is most ill-advised for Lord Morendale to attend a dinner party tonight.”
“I agree, but he will not be dissuaded. I have tried my best, believe me. And what aboutyou, Mr. Blackburn? Does your advice count for nothing now?”
“I’m not sure what you are implying. I have done my best to…”
Lucy made a mistake. She had been so eager to listen, too keen to hear whatschedulethe two men were speaking of, that she forgot about the book clutched in her hands.
It slipped out of her grip, falling to the floor with an echoingsound.
Lucy squeezed her eyes closed.
I am a fool.
Immediately, the curtain was whisked aside, revealing a horrified Mr. Blackburn and a blankly furious Lord Tidemore.
“You little wretch,” Lord Tidemore hissed. He grabbed Lucy by the arm, fingers digging in hard enough to make her cry out in pain.
“She’s a maid,” Mr. Blackburn said, unnecessarily.
“Not for much longer,” Lord Tidemore answered evenly. “You’re dismissed, my girl. Eavesdropping! What did you hear?”
Lucy clenched her jaw. “You can’t dismiss me.”
“Oh? Can’t I?”
She tilted up her chin, forcing herself to look him in the eyes. “I am Lady Morendale’s lady’s maid. Only she or Lord Morendale can dismiss me.”
Anger flared in Lord Tidemore’s eyes.
“You think not? Whatdidyou hear?”
“Careful,” Mr. Blackburn warned. “She heard nothing. How could she? We only discussed our concern for Lord Morendale’s health. Better let her go.”
Lord Tidemore ignored him, and only tightened his grip on Lucy’s arm. He leaned down towards her, until they were almost nose to nose. Lucy swallowed hard, not able to suppress a twinge of fear.
“Your days in this house are numbered, girl,” he hissed. “Better check your apron pockets and sleep with one eye open these days. If you’re lucky, you’ll find that you’re suddenly found to be a thief, and shall be dismissed without a letter of recommendation. If you’re unlucky… well. I suppose you’ll see.”
Lucy swallowed hard. “I’m not afraid of you. And neither is Lady Morendale.”
Lord Tidemore grinned, revealing sharp canines. The smile did not reach his eyes.
“Not yet,” he whispered, grip tightening further still.