The Duke’s Guests Laughed as the Maid Fell Into the Lake — She Said, “I’ll Remember Every Face”
Chapter 6
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"At midnight? On your knees, after nearly drowning this afternoon?" He set the candle down on a table. "Lady Cordelia came to me after the party. She asked me to dismiss you."Clara's stomach went cold. So that was it: she would be thrown out before she had even begun."I told her no," the Duke said.Clara looked up in surprise."I saw the broken glass on the pier," he went on. "And I saw your face. Nobody who simply trips looks at people the way you looked at my guests today." He paused. "You will stay, Miss Hollis. I have told Mrs. Pratt that you are not to be punished. She was not pleased.""Thank you, Your Grace," Clara whispered. "But you shouldn't have done that. It will only make Lady Cordelia hate me more.""Perhaps." He studied her face in the candlelight. "May I ask you something?""Of course, Your Grace.""What did you mean? 'I will remember every face.' It sounded like a promise. Or a threat."Clara was silent for a long moment. She wanted to tell him. She wanted so badly to tell someone the truth after 15 years of carrying it alone. But this man was the old Duke's son. If she told him she was the daughter of John Doyle, he would see only one thing: the daughter of the man who killed his father."It meant nothing, Your Grace," she said. "I was angry. People say foolish things when they're angry."The Duke did not look like he believed her, but he nodded slowly and picked up his candle. "Go to bed, Miss Hollis. The floor is clean enough."He walked to the staircase. Then he stopped with one hand on the railing and spoke without turning around: "Bramble hasn't let anyone touch her nose since my father died. Not even me." He was quiet for a moment. "Good night."Clara stood alone in the great hall long after his footsteps had faded.The next week was the hardest of Clara's life, and she had known some very hard weeks. Word had spread through the servants' hall: the new girl had embarrassed Lady Cordelia; the new girl had gone running to the Duke; the new girl thought she was better than everyone else.Mrs. Pratt gave her the worst jobs in the house: emptying the chamber pots, cleaning the chimneys, scrubbing the kitchen drains. The other maids stopped talking whenever she walked into a room. Someone poured salt into her tea. Someone tore the hem of her only spare dress.Only one person was kind to her: a thin little boy of 11 named Toby, who washed the pots in the scullery. He slipped her an extra piece of bread at supper and whispered, "I saw what she did at the lake, miss. I was carrying chairs. She pushed you on purpose.""Hush, Toby," Clara whispered back. "Don't say that to anyone. It'll only get you in trouble.""I don't care," Toby said. "It isn't right."Clara squeezed his hand under the table. For the first time in days, she nearly smiled.