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D orothy did not know what to say.

Lady Annabelle had made her accusation, but nobody knew what to do in response other than look at one another.

Dorothy knew, as well as Cecilia and Beatrice, that their friend would never say something hurtful to anyone, let alone mock one's sister.

Emma cared far too greatly for her own sister to ever think of doing such a thing.

But Morgan did not know her friends, and all that he had seen of them was their pointed remarks in his direction. He knew that they would do anything for her, and he also knew that Lady Annabelle made her feel ill at ease. If he believed Lady Annabelle, she could not say that she blamed him.

"What precisely did she say?" Morgan asked at last.

"It was awful. She said that she was pleased that Elizabeth had died, because it was one less Blackwood to think about. She also said that my family deserved what happened to us, as we are all cut from the same cloth, and–"

"That is nonsense," Lady Cecilia interrupted, furious. "Emma would never say such things."

"She did, and I am aware that when one is with child they can say things that they do not mean, but that was beyond the pale."

"It would have been, had she said it, but you and I both know it is untrue. Where did she even say this to you?"

"In the hallway. She had been waiting outside of her room for me."

"And why were you outside her room?" Beatrice asked. "If I recall correctly, you are on the other side of the manor. You had no need to be there."

"I may go where I please in this household!"

"You will be honest," Morgan said, glaring at her. "Do remember that she has a maid with her, and it is one that I trust. If she has said something, the maid will have heard and she will tell me. If you are lying, then she will not hesitate to disclose that to me either."

"Can we discuss this privately?" Lady Annabelle asked.

"No. You have made accusations to all of us, and so we shall all hear the truth. What is it?"

"I– I…"

Without an explanation, she tumbled to the floor.

Again, nobody knew quite what to do except look at one another.

Dorothy looked at her on the floor and wondered just what she was trying to do.

She had no reason to lie about Emma; if she was trying to cause a rift between Dorothy and her husband, she should have made such accusations about Dorothy herself, but what she had said was vile and not something that her friend would have ever said.

Emma had had her own difficult childhood and her family situation was far from ideal.

It had been painful for her, but it had led to her being protective, and had made her the least judgmental person that Dorothy knew.

Beyond that, of course, Emma had one priority and that was her unborn child.

There was no reason why she would have had such an outburst, which could only have meant that Lady Annabelle was lying, but she could not work out why that was,

Morgan sent for a doctor, and had Lady Annabelle placed on a settee by his staff. He then took the ladies out of the room and into the drawing room, having a tea prepared and sent to them. Dorothy served it as they sat in silence.

"She has not truly fainted," Cecilia said gently to Beatrice. "She was caught in a lie and had to cover it. That is all."

"Even so," she shivered. "It was frightening to see. We were having such a lovely conversation, too."

"Jealousy is a rotten thing," Cecilia nodded, "but we do not possess such a thing. She will learn from this."

Morgan turned to Dorothy with a serious expression that she had only seen on his face when he was going to tell her about Catherine.

"I shall not be angry with you," he began, "nor your friend, for I know that Lady Annabelle is not the nicest lady. Do you believe that she could say such things?"

Dorothy shook her head firmly.

"She would never even think of the words, let alone put them together and say them. It is not Emma's nature, and it has not been in all of the time that I have known her."

Morgan relaxed at once.

"Good. The matter is settled then. I was hoping that you would say that."

"Are you going to send her away again?" Cecilia asked, albeit clumsily.

"I do not know as yet. I cannot in good faith send her away now, in the condition that she is in–"

"That she may or may not be in."

"Yes. In any case, I shall have the doctor see to her, and then I shall speak with her in the morning. I at least want to know her motives before I send her back to her father."

That seemed to satisfy her friends, who then began to eat the food that had been brought.

Emma was devastated to learn of what had been said of her the following morning. She began to cry in an instant, apologizing profusely.

"Do forgive me," she whimpered, "but that is an awful thing to be accused of. I did not even know her sister. I do not know anything about the Blackwoods."

"I suspected as much," Cecilia said kindly, handing her a drink. "We believe you, Emma. You have never said an unkind thing in your life. Well, perhaps you have to your husband."

She laughed through her tears, then looked at Morgan.

"Where is she now?" she asked. "I will not go to her. If anything, I hope not to see her again, but I would like to know how she is."

"The doctor left just now. He said that she is overly tired and needs time to rest."

"How long will that be?" Dorothy asked.

"I do not know. He said that when she is ready, she shall leave her room of her own accord."

"She ought to rest in her own room," Cecilia grumbled. "I do not see why you feel the need to burden yourself with her."

"Because she is the aunt of our niece," Dorothy explained gently. "It is not ideal, but Catherine has only just found her. She shall be devastated if she learns that her aunt was sent away."

"Yes," Emma nodded, "truly, there is no need to do anything on my behalf. I shall simply keep my distance, or perhaps stay with you, Dorothy. That way, no more accusations can be made."

"If she were smart," Cecilia smirked, "she would have said it about me. I would never be so cruel, but at least His Grace might have believed it."

"I do not believe you are cruel, Lady Cecilia," Morgan replied. "I would have been as inclined to believe that you said it as I was Lady Emma, which was not very much at all. My wife would not keep the company of someone so vile."

Dorothy, in spite of it all, was smiling. She had fallen very quickly for her husband, and though she did not dare tell him as much she hoped that he might one day come to see her the same way. It was a dream, one that would not come true, but she had her hopes regardless.

There was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Herrington entered.

"I am terribly sorry, Your Grace, but Lady Annabelle wishes to see you."

Morgan bristled.

"I will not be doing that," he replied.

"Not you, Your Grace," she explained, turning to Dorothy. "She has asked to see you."

"Dorothy, no," Cecilia warned. "She is only trying to make you go so that she can say you were unkind to her. Do not be so foolish."

"I will certainly not be going alone," Dorothy agreed, "but I could take Catherine with me. I would wager that she had not seen her aunt since yesterday, is that correct?"

Mrs. Herrington nodded, and Dorothy knew in an instant what she wished to do.

She went with her housekeeper to Catherine's room, and collected her before taking her to Lady Annabelle's room.

She planned to watch Lady Annabelle brighten, and use that to prove that she was feeling better.

At that point, she would send her husband in to speak with her.

When they entered, however, Lady Annabelle remained unchanged. She looked exhausted, and each movement seemed to almost pain her.

"Aunt Annabelle!" Catherine exclaimed. "What has happened to you?"

"It is nothing, Dear, only something that was said to me yesterday."

She gave a pointed look to Dorothy then, which Dorothy ignored. She did not believe any of it, but she had to admit that Lady Annabelle was very convincing. If she were only eight years of age like Catherine was, she was not so certain that she would have seen through it.

"Might I speak to my niece alone?" Lady Annabelle asked.

"You and I both know that is not allowed, Lady Annabelle. It is what the Duke wants, and I am not going to disobey him."

"I know," she whimpered, "but I am aware that I will be leaving soon, and I only wish to spend five mere minutes with my niece before I go. Surely you can turn a blind eye for that?"

"You are leaving?" Catherine asked, eyes wide. "Oh, Aunt Dorothy, please give me five minutes. I will not tell Uncle Morgan, I promise."

"That is not what concerns me, Catherine. Your Uncle has ensured that you have someone with you at all times."

"You all think that I am some filthy commoner, don't you?" Lady Annabelle snapped. "You think that I am unworthy of being here simply because of my family. I knew that you were all ashamed of me."

"We are not, Aunt Annabelle!"

"We most certainly are not, no. Come, Catherine, it is time to leave."

"But I want to stay with her! She has only just arrived, and now she is being sent away, and it is not fair."

"Catherine, please come with me. I shall send your uncle back with you, but you must come with me."

She tried to take the girl with her, but Catherine pulled away, forcing her heels into the ground.

"I am not going. You can send for my uncle, but I am staying here. Aunt Annabelle is unwell, like me, and I will not allow her to be sent away. You all care for me. Why is she different?"

Dorothy bit her lip. Morgan was nearby, and it would only take her a minute or so to reach him. It was not worth hurting Catherine over.

"I shall only be a moment," she said reluctantly, leaving for the drawing room once more.

Morgan left in an instant, giving her an uncertain look for leaving Catherine alone, but Dorothy did not know what more she could have done when there were no servants to assist her and Catherine refused to leave.

The only other thing that she could have done was force her to leave by dragging her, which she could not have done in good faith.

When Morgan returned, however, he could not meet her eye.

"What is it?" she asked.

"You know perfectly well what it is."

Dorothy looked at him, puzzled, but he did not soften when he saw her confusion. If anything, it only made him appear to be angry.

"I will discuss it with you when the week is through," he said coldly.

"Morgan, I–"

"We will discuss it when the week is through."

He did not say anything more, and none of her friends had anything to say in response.

She would simply have to wait.