One of the gentlemen gave a quiet, embarrassed cough.
Vale stepped closer. "You have an extraordinary talent for speaking above your station."
Emma's fingers tightened around the book. "My station has not prevented me from seeing what was in front of me."
"Nor has it prevented you from making yourself indispensable to a wealthy man."
The implication hung between them. Emma went very still.
"You will withdraw that remark, Captain."
"I merely observe that the Duke has taken a remarkable interest in your opinions."
She looked past him toward the assembled gentlemen; none spoke. She had faced dismissive customers before, but this was different: Vale was using James's attention to suggest that her work, her judgment, and perhaps her character could all be purchased.
"You may dispute my observations," she said. "You may ask Mr. Bell to explain his findings. But you will not turn my employment into a question of my reputation."
She walked away before her voice could betray her.
Thomas met her inside the passage. "Miss Carter, I heard what happened."
"Then you heard enough." She set the observation book upon the office desk and opened it to the latest entry. "Storm ate his feed this morning. Mr. Bell is due to return on Thursday. Everything I've recorded is here."
Thomas watched her close the cover. "Are you leaving?"
"I am going home."
"His Grace won't wish you to resign."
Emma swallowed. "Then His Grace must decide what sort of establishment he means to maintain."
She collected her bonnet and walked toward the forge. Her father was working at the anvil when she arrived. Samuel took one look at her face and set down his hammer.
"Who has hurt you?"
Emma shook her head. "Nobody who deserves the satisfaction of hearing me repeat it." She hung her bonnet on its peg. "Father, I will finish our orders tomorrow. I don't intend to return to Ashford as an employee."