“I know. That is why seeing clearly hurts.”
The next morning, Elise arrived at the estate to collect a financial portfolio Adrian had left behind before a meeting.
Margaret opened the front door.
Elise’s eyes widened.
“Mrs. Co—”
Margaret gave a nearly invisible shake of her head.
Elise stopped.
“I’m sorry,” she said carefully. “I didn’t realize you worked here.”
“Only recently.”
Before Margaret could explain further, Camille’s voice cut through the foyer.
“Mrs. Bennett, why are you standing there?”
Elise turned.
Camille descended the staircase wearing a pale silk robe and holding her phone.
“I asked you to steam the ivory dress.”
“I was helping Miss Morgan retrieve Mr. Cole’s portfolio.”
Camille looked at Elise as if she were another piece of household equipment.
“And who gave you permission to have a conversation?”
Elise’s expression changed.
“She answered the door.”
Camille smiled without warmth.
“Thank you, but I wasn’t speaking to you.”
“She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
Camille reached the bottom step.
“Do assistants from HarborLink usually interfere with private household instructions?”
“No,” Elise replied. “But respectful treatment shouldn’t depend on whether someone works in an office or cleans a room.”
Camille gave a short laugh.
“How admirable. Do you rescue stray animals during your lunch hour too?”
Margaret opened her mouth, but Elise spoke first.
“Kindness isn’t heroism. It’s the minimum people owe one another.”
Camille’s face hardened.
“You may leave.”
“I will after I collect the documents Mr. Cole requested.”
Margaret went to the study and returned with the portfolio.
As she handed it to Elise, the younger woman gently touched her arm.
“Are you all right here?” she whispered.
Margaret felt sudden pressure behind her eyes.
“Yes.”
“I’m serious. If you need help or somewhere safe to stay, call me.”
From across the foyer, Camille snapped, “Are you planning to remain here all morning?”
Elise turned toward her.
“No. But before I go, you should understand that how you behave around people you consider unimportant reveals more than you probably realize.”
Then she walked out.
Margaret watched the door close.
The young woman had protected her twice.
Once from strangers in an alley.
Once from humiliation in a mansion.
That night, Margaret told Adrian everything.
He sat behind the desk in his library, staring at the floor.
“Elise defended you?”
“Immediately.”
“And Camille said that to her?”
“Yes.”
Adrian leaned back.
Margaret hesitated before adding, “Camille also said her own mother could never be mistaken for someone like me.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“That her mother could never be a dirty, pathetic maid.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“She used those words?”
“Yes.”
He stood and walked toward the window.
Beyond the glass, the lawn disappeared into darkness.
For a long time, Adrian said nothing.
Then he whispered, “I nearly married someone I don’t know.”
Margaret looked at him.
“The engagement can still be ended.”
He closed his eyes.
“I need to think.”
Margaret believed the test had already delivered its answer.
But truth had not finished with them.
Two days later, Camille sent Margaret to purchase several specialty items for a dinner party.
“And please don’t take the entire afternoon,” Camille said. “Older women move as though every hallway is a museum.”
Margaret left through the side entrance.
Halfway down the driveway, she realized she had forgotten her purse in the mudroom.
She returned quietly.
As she entered, she heard Camille speaking in the breakfast room.
Her voice was low and tense.
“I already told you. I’m pregnant.”
Margaret stopped.
Through the partially open doorway, she saw Camille pacing beside the windows with a phone pressed to her ear.
“No, it isn’t Adrian’s. That is exactly the problem.”
Margaret’s hand tightened around the doorframe.
Camille listened to the person on the other end.
“He’s been ridiculous about waiting. He keeps talking about trust, values, and his mother’s advice as if we live in another century.”
She paused again.
“I cannot lose him now. I owe vendors, the credit cards are nearly at their limits, and the wedding planner keeps asking for deposits. Adrian is the only thing standing between me and complete public humiliation.”
Margaret’s stomach turned cold.
Camille moved closer to the table.
“He’s my way out,” she whispered. “My entire future depends on him.”
The person on the phone said something.
Camille’s expression changed.
“What do you mean, add something to his drink?”
Margaret stopped breathing.
“No. Nothing dangerous. I’m not insane.”
Another pause.
Camille lowered her voice.
“Just enough to make him sleepy and confused? Are you certain?”
Margaret felt the blood leave her face.