Marcus shook his head. “I would never impose. Perhaps next time.”
“Very well,” Tristan said.
They left the study together, Marcus moving with a spring in his step, Tristan with deliberate calm. In the front hall, Marcuscollected his bag and coat. Tristan nodded once, then turned back toward the hallway.
However, he decided to wait at a window, curiosity pulling him. He drew back the curtain and looked down at the path outside. Marcus had just stepped out, the late afternoon light catching his coat.
Eliza stood a few paces away. She looked up, her expression hopeful, but Marcus passed her without a word, his shoulders stiff and his stride quick. Her gaze fell to the ground, and she held herself still.
Tristan’s chest tightened as he watched. Then he let out a long breath as Marcus climbed into the carriage, and Eliza remained outside in silence, her head still bowed.
Chapter 12
The sky outside was a gloomy gray when Eliza walked into the servants’ quarters that morning. The chatter and clatter stopped at once, and chairs scraped back, much to her surprise. She stretched out her hand in a bid to stop them all, but it was too late. Every servant had already risen to his or her feet.
“Good morning, my lady,” they said together.
She gave a gentle smile and lifted her hand again. “Please, sit. It was not my intent to interrupt your meal.”
They obeyed, though carefully, and returned to their food. The smell of bread and porridge filled her nostrils as she stepped forward and let her eyes settle on the housekeeper. Mrs. Yarrow stood at the end of the table, her back as straight as ever.
“Everything is well this morning, Mrs. Yarrow?” Eliza asked.
“Could not be better, my lady,” the woman responded.
“Good. Then, if it will not be any trouble, may I borrow Rose for a moment?”
Mrs. Yarrow nodded. “Certainly.”
Rose jumped from her seat, nearly knocking her chair back. “Of course, my lady.”
“It is only for a moment,” she said, her voice still apologetic as the maid followed her outside into the hallway.
Once the door closed behind them, Eliza pulled a folded letter from her pocket. “I wonder if you could help me post this.”
Rose took it with care. “Of course, my lady.”
“It is for my friend Clara,” Eliza explained. “I am sure you have noticed as well, but I have been … rather lonely here. I thought I would write to her. If only to ask her to visit me. Or at the very least, write back.”
Rose’s smile was warm. “I will make sure it is posted right away, my lady.”
“Thank you, Rose,” Eliza said softly.
Rose curtsied and tucked the letter into her apron. Eliza gave a small nod before turning back down the hall.
Halfway along, she saw Gideon walking toward her. He held a stack of papers under one arm, moving quickly but neatly.
“Mr. Hale,” she called.
He stopped at once and bowed, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Good morning, my lady.”
“I was just coming from the servants’ hall. Is there a reason why you are not eating with the others?” she asked.
“His lordship required an early departure,” Gideon said. “I had to prepare him.”
Her breath caught. “Wait … he is gone?”
“I am afraid so, my lady.”
