Page 29

When I return indoors, I realize the quietness is due to more than just the missing workers. Where are all my servants? Damasus isn’t walking the halls. I can’t find the maids anywhere in the library or my parlor doing the dusting. It takes me ages just to locate Mrs. Lagos.

“Where is everyone?” I ask her.

I realize then that her eyes are red and glassy, but she holds herself as tall as such a short woman can.

“The duke,” she says, anddukecomes out with such vehemence that I nearly step back, “has ordered that I let go half the staff. I’ve just finished informing the rest of them.”

I can’t speak for a full five seconds. “What?”

“I had to send them away. Without places to live or their final week’s wages. I begged the duke to allow me to—”

Before she even finishes, I’m stomping from the room. I tread the stairs like a rhino in a charge. Ruining my life wasn’t enough? Now he goes after my staff? Big mistake. I fairly kick open the study door.

Dyson sits sideways in an armchair, balancing a knife by the tip onone of his fingers. Argus leans against one wall with his arms crossed, and Eryx—he’s seated inmychair, looking atmyaccount book.

“What have you done?” I shriek at him.

Dyson drops his knife, and Argus nearly loses his balance. Eryx’s eyes narrow as he looks up.

“You’ve let go half the staff?” I continue. “Am I to understand that these two idiots will be preparing our meals and cleaning the manor?” I gesture to the two idiots in question. “Or are you planning on cultivating the garden and dusting the bookshelves yourself? You do look more suited to that task than lounging in that chair.”

Eryx returns his attention to the desk. “I’ve hardly been lounging. I’ve had to go over all your purchases and double-check your math to ensure you haven’t bungled anything up.”

“Don’t change the subject. We’re going to hire back everyone you’ve let go, and you’re going to personally apologize to them all for the stress you’ve caused by making them homeless and destitute.”

Argus and Dyson go still. Each man holds his breath, as though waiting for something to happen.

“I’m not doing that,” Eryx says, not looking up from the account book.

“This is a massive estate. It needs a full range of staff members to keep it running. You can’t just—”

He finally looks at me, his demeanor totally unaffected. “I can and I have. That will be all, Duchess.”

I stride farther into the room, walking right up to the edge of the desk. “Is this more punishment? You mean to give me more work to do with only half the staff to manage the estate? Does it make you feel like a big man to exercise such control over people’s lives?”

Eryx rises from the desk, showing me that he doesn’t need to do a damn thing to be a big man. I sense movement behind me. In front, Isee Argus take a step forward, his eyes glued to the duke. Eryx stays his grunts with a raised hand.

What were they going to do? Physically restrain me?

“The only thing I mean to do is be rid of you. If getting rid of half the staff accomplishes that, then I’ll consider it a success.”

My mouth drops open. “This isn’t about money at all, is it? You’re not being meticulous with the accounts because you’re worried a few necos have gone missing. You’re looking for proof that I’m unfit to rule this estate. You mean to force me to leave at the mere thought of living in less comfort and leaving all the renovations half done. You think that will accomplish anything? Well, you’re sorely mistaken. The only thing you’ve managed to do is to turn all your remaining staff against you and earn even more of my ire.”

“Oh no,” he deadpans. “Not more of your ire. Anything but that.”

My vision goes red, and just like it did the day my husband died, I feel my brain detaching from the rest of my body. Of its own accord, my hand reaches for a glass paperweight on the desk and throws it at Eryx’s head.

In a move too quick for my eyes to follow, Eryx catches it and sets it back down on the desk calmly.

Ooh. Anger as I’ve never known takes hold of me. I retrieve the paperweight once more and throw it on the floor by the window, where it shatters.

“Have fun cleaning that up yourself,” I say, “since you’ve hardly any staff to do it for you.”

“Unlike you, labor doesn’t scare me.”

He does not get to have the last word!

“I hope you burn in hell with all the devils for your crimes.”