simple gown of deep blue wool, expensive but unadorned, a plain silver clasp holding her dark h

t night... surely you don't have t

ng, Clara. The battlefi

er-in-law, Duchess Eleanor Ferguson. A daily ritual of submission s

s, she saw Eleanor seated with several high-ranking noblewomen, teacups in hand, heads bent in go

and curious. Adeline walked forward, back straight, steps

ning, You

deliberate sip of tea, eyes cold over the cup's rim, and let Adel

rom behind the Duchess's chair. Agnes had served Eleanor for thirty years and wield

displease his lordship again last night?

ds. Public shaming. The old Adeli

as if the woman were no more than a mispla

ly, "has Agnes been elevate

rvatory w

r. "If she is now entitled to correct me before you

gnes. "If not, she may

e tightened. The l

by what she saw as her mistress's support, she stepped closer, eyes falling on the damp hem of Adeline's gown. "Oh

scolding a child. Her bony, cold

d in a blur. Fast.

ed through the

h her fingers, and a thin line of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. Teacu

d her hand, he

t touc

t her, too stu

aid to retreat. "You wear your mistre

mained quiet

opened, but

e. You are a servant who ha

r station again, and you will apologize on y

ve I made your

he roomful of noblewomen was watching too closely. Any defense Eleanor offered now woul

owered

my l

and meet her mother-in-law'

not curt

Eleanor's untouched tea