“Anything? You mean like taking back what you did and breaking it off with the duke?” Ana suggested coyly. Audrey’s heart plummeted, her stomach churning; she felt sick, her eyes and mouth ag
ape in shock.
“Ana, you...”
“I made an offer. You can accept it, or I’ll be telling Francine about everything you’ve done,” Ana gave the cold ultimatum.
“I... the duke, he’ll be... we’ll both, be...” Audrey stammered.
“Audrey? Audrey!” Agatha hurried up the stairs. Standing in the doorframe, Agatha glanced with a curiously surprised visage at her two maids. “What’s... what’s going on in here? Ana, are you harassing poor Audrey again?” Agatha scolded.
“Harassing? Was I harassing you, Audrey?” Ana asked, an evilly satisfied smile on her face. Audrey’s breath rumbled like fire through her nostrils as she staggered out of the chair, to her feet.
“N... no,” Audrey painfully replied, knowing the bind she was in.
“Are you sure about that? Because you sure don’t seem sure,” Agatha skewered Audrey with a skeptical gaze.
“We were having a discussion about some of the duties around the house. Weren’t we, Audrey?” Ana coaxed a response from poor Audrey with an intimidating scowl.
“Y... yes, that’s all, Ms. Agatha,” Audrey sighed.
“Worry about your duties around the house later, then. The duke’s returned, and he wants to see you, Audrey,” Agatha said. Audrey’s face lit up briefly, before Ana’s cutting scowl brought her back down to reality.
“I’m... I mean, what... what does he want to see me for?” Audrey swallowed hard.
“I don’t rightly know, but he returned in a hurry. He’s waiting in the foyer for you. The duchess rode off, and by the sound of her screaming, she was none too amused by the duke’s return,” Agatha chuckled. Like a cruel slave-driver, Ana nodded to Audrey. As Audrey anxiously stepped towards the grand staircase, Ana shadowed her, anxious to see the outcome of her devious plot.
“Audrey,” the duke spoke in an urgent voice, before Audrey had even reached the ground floor. “We need to speak. Privately, away from all of this. I’ve prepared a carriage for the two of us to ride in to the town. Come, Agatha will help dress you in something more appropriate - we have a lot to talk about,” he said, in a tone firm and serious - one Audrey had never heard the duke speak in, in all their time together. He seemed anxious, almost - worried. Audrey looked back up the stairs. Ana stood watchful at the top of the stairs, shooting a dangerous glare at the young maidservant.
“A... actually, m’lord, I... we have a lot to take care of, here, I should probably get back upstairs to help Ana with the cleaning,” Audrey mumbled, painful tears streaming from the corners of her eyes. Lord Parris stopped dead in his tracks, tilting his head curiously.
“...Excuse me, dearie?” he asked quizzically.
“I’ve... you know, I’ve rethought a lot... about all of this,” Audrey stammered. She couldn’t stop herself from crying, crying hard; she wanted to collapse on the stairs, her legs barely able to keep her standing through this emotional torment. Ana watched closely, darkly satisfied by the tears and the hurt flowing from Audrey. “I’ve... maybe, maybe my aunt was right. Maybe you’ve just talked sweet, and... and I don’t... I don’t know, I have to rethink all of this. I’m not... going with you, Audrey stuttered through the tears.
“...Ms. Fisher, what are you talking about?” the duke asked, baffled. “I’ve already gotten the carriage ready. We’re expected. We can think about things together, and—”
“I’m not going to be a mistress! I’m not... I’m not going to be... this,” Audrey broke down, falling to one knee at the foot of the stairs, tears flowing and staining her cheeks red. “This... this has to be over. I can’t...”
“Audrey,” the duke’s voice fell to a quiet whisper. “What’s gotten in to you?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I can’t be... party to this, anymore.”
“There’s a lot I have to tell you. You have to understand. Please, come with me. We can talk about your station, our situation...”
“There’s no talking,” she sniffled, standing up cold as ice. She glared up the stairs to Ana, who stood perched by the rail, gleaming with corrupted pride. Fighting back another wave of tears, Audrey pulled herself out of the duke’s comforting embrace and dragged herself towards the maid’s chambers.
“Audrey, this— you can’t just walk away from this. I can’t just walk away from this,” the duke insisted. “I realized — I realized I love you.”
“I have to, I’m sorry,” Audrey howled back to him, slipping into the maid’s quarters. The moment the door shut she slid to her knees against it, the tears flowing free and hot and raw.
The wicked witch had gotten her way.
Chapter 9
One week.
Audrey had figured one week would be enough time. Enough time for the letter to reach the city; for her aunt to prepare her old room. Audrey could only imagine the verbal lashings she would receive on returning disgraced back to the family inn in London. She had done just precisely what her aunt had warned her against doing - she’d started to fall for a man she could never have. Worse yet... she had endangered her family name, called scandal down on the house she was meant to serve.