Amos had no idea how long he had been sitting when Bernard came in. He had thought long and hard about the situation, and about Lord Bertram. The idea of a man the same age as Lord Bertram marring Mrs. Edwards—no, Lady Esther—made his skin crawl. He could not blame the girl for running away, but in doing so, she and Agnes had put him in a difficult position. Should anyone discover the secret that she was the daughter of Lord Bertram, then she would be assumed to be compromised, her reputation in tatters. The only way to scrape some of it back would be to marry the girl. He let out a sigh, staring into the flames.

“Duke?” Bernard ventured, seeing him jump as Bernard’s voice startled him. “My apologies, but I couldn’t find you. The last of the guests are leaving.”

“I’m sorry for leaving them with you,” Amos replied, gesturing his friend into the armchair opposite. “I had something weighing on my mind.”

Bernard waved a hand. “It was no trouble. I told them all that you had taken ill. Lady Jane was very concerned.” He winked, but Amos could not find even a half smile to give to his remark. “Good grief!” Bernard continued, surprised to see his friend so stoic. “Whatever’s the matter?”

Amos let out a long sigh, throwing back his whisky before answering. "It appears I have been harboring Lord Bertram's daughter."

There was a beat of silence before Bernard shook his surprise enough to ask, “You mean my mother’s goddaughter? She’s been hiding here?” He looked around the room, as if he might spot her somewhere.

“Here, in the house, right in front of my very nose,” Amos replied, his words growing in both volume and intensity. “Hiding here, under the guidance of your mother.”

“My mother!” Bernard exclaimed, shock on his face. “Whatever has she done now?”

Amos rubbed a hand across his eyes. “It seems that my new housekeeper is, in fact, Lady Esther Bertram.”

Bernard said nothing, his mouth hanging open. The fact that he had not even recognized the housekeeper to be Esther was something of a shock, and the deceit of his mother even more of a revelation. He knew his mother was both blunt and outspoken, but he had never imagined she would do such a thing. "I suppose Mother was trying to protect Lady Esther in her own way," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Amos let out a long breath. “I know that,” he said, quietly. “I am just a little shocked at the deception of it all.”

“I need to talk to her,” Bernard said, getting to his feet and walking urgently to the door. “Do you know where she might be?”

"She and Lady Esther are meeting us in the drawing room," Amos replied. "They should be there now since the guests have left."

“What if he throws me out?” Esther whispered, her nerves jangling. “Where shall I go?” She took a breath, her face showing her tortured thoughts. “What if he tells my father?”

“Hush now, Esther,” Agnes soothed, taking her hand to stop her from twisting it into her skirts. “You just let me do the talking. I can sort this all out.” Seeing the door open, both she and Esther got to their feet, waiting for both men to walk in.

“Lady Esther,” Bernard said, bowing to her. “May I say how relieved I am that you are safe and well.” He turned to his mother with a look of both hurt and fury in his gaze. “Mother, I do not know what on earth you were thinking.”

Lady Heber did him the courtesy of looking a little abashed but held her ground nonetheless. “I was thinking about Esther,” she cried, pointing to her. “Her mother is gone, and I am the only one who seems to be concerned about her welfare. Do you really think I’d allow the girl to wed to Lord Thompson?”

There was a brief silence.

“No,” Bernard said, glancing at Esther who stood quietly, her face a stark white against the darkness of her housekeeper’s dress. “But you should have spoken to me, Mother, and certainly to the Duke.”

Amos said nothing, choosing to pour himself another whiskey before sitting down, facing the two women. He studied the woman he now knew to be Lady Esther Bertram, wondering how she was feeling in all of this. Now that his anger had faded to nothingness, he felt sorry for the woman. Had he been in her position, he was certain he would have done the same thing.

“I am sorry, Your Grace,” Esther tried to say, sinking down into the soft chair. “I know what I did was beyond forgiveness. I should not have deceived you so.”

“What you did?” Amos asked, lifting a brow. “What you did was put my house in order. There is nothing here that I have found fault with, other than pretending to be Mrs. Edwards.” He found himself smiling at her, as both Agnes and Bernard sat quietly, listening to his words.

“You are not furious with me?” Esther asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the carpet.

“I was at first,” Amos admitted. “But then I chanced upon your father and, after what I have heard from him, I suddenly found myself having a great deal of sympathy for your situation.”

“Thank you, Duke,” Agnes said, feeling a heady mixture of astonishment and relief. “The problem that lies before us now is what we are going to do about it all.”

“Can Lady Esther stay with you, Mother?”

“The servants would talk,” Lady Heber replied, with a shake of her head. “It would soon be common knowledge that Esther was staying with me.”

“Oh.” Bernard sat back glumly and stared into the fire.

“Could I not simply remain here?” Esther squeaked, trying not to sound like a timid little mouse.

“No,” Amos replied, firmly. “If you are found to be here, then I should have to marry you to save your reputation, and that simply will not do.”

Esther said nothing, flushing deeply as she heard the censure in his voice. The thought of having to marry her clearly disturbed him, although she found that she could not say the same. The thought of being the Duchess of Hawdon made her stomach flutter, but she pushed the thought away almost the moment it entered her head.

“I have it,” Bernard said, slowly. “Lady Esther, I would be honored to have you as my wife.”