Episode 7

Clara crossed the gates of Cavendish Manor with quick, careful steps, her eyes sharp to ensure no one was watching. Her heart pounded, not just from the long walk, but from the fear of being discovered. She was already in the hallway, nearing the staircase that led to her room, when a voice sliced through the silence.

“Clara?”

She froze, turning slowly. Claremont stood there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but suspicious. “Where are you coming from at this hour? It’s not usual for maids to be outside the estate so late, without notice.”

Clara’s blood ran cold, but before she could stammer out a response, another voice rang out.

“Claremont!”

Lilian approached, her silk dress flowing around her like a whisper of elegance. The haughty look she cast at the secretary made him straighten instantly.

“I sent Clara to the village to fetch a specific item for me,” Lilian said confidently, her tone sharp. “If there’s any problem with that, I can take it up directly with my father.”

Claremont hesitated, clearly displeased, but he did not dare challenge Lilian. “Of course not, Lady Lilian. I was merely curious.” He bowed slightly and stepped away, though not without casting a final, lingering glance at Clara.

Lilian waited until he disappeared down the hall before turning to Clara. “Follow me.” Her tone softened, but there was still an edge of authority.

Lilian shut the door of the small sitting room behind them and lit an oil lamp to illuminate the space. She turned to Clara, arms crossed, her expression expectant. “Do you want to explain what happened? Why were you outside at this hour?”

Clara avoided Lilian’s gaze, her fingers twisting nervously around her apron. She couldn’t tell the truth — not when it would expose the cruelty of the Duke. “I went to fetch... some medicine from the village,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, trying to sound convincing. “I thought you might need it, and we had run out... but I didn’t want to trouble you with the details.”

Lilian tilted her head slightly, studying her closely. For a moment, Clara thought she might press the matter further, but then Lilian sighed, her shoulders relaxing. “Very well. But next time, let me know before you leave. I don’t want you getting into trouble with my father or Claremont.”

Clara nodded quickly, relieved. “Thank you, Lilian.”

Lilian sat on the sofa, her gaze distant as she watched the flickering flame of the lamp. “The preparations for the dinner start tomorrow,” she murmured absently. “Make sure everything is in order with the staff. I want it to be perfect.”

Clara bowed slightly. “Of course, Lilian. I’ll take care of everything.”

Shortly after, Lilian stood, exhaustion evident in the slow movements of her body. “I’m retiring for the night. Come with me and help me undress.”

Clara followed her silently to the upper floor. In the bedroom, she helped Lilian remove her gown and change into a simple nightdress, the soft fabric contrasting with the grandeur of her daytime attire.

As Clara adjusted the ties on Lilian’s sleeves, the latter hesitated before speaking, her voice barely audible. “Clara...” She paused, her green eyes avoiding the maid’s gaze. “Have you... seen Gabriel?”

The question hung in the air, catching Clara off guard. She hesitated for a moment, her heart skipping a beat, but quickly composed herself. “No, Lilian. I haven’t seen him yet.”

Lilian nodded, her gaze lowering to her hands, her voice barely above a whisper. “Very well.” She seemed to dismiss the thought, her mind drifting elsewhere. “Thank you, Clara. You may go.”

Clara bowed her head, extinguished the light, and left the room, closing the door softly behind her. In the hallway, a pang of guilt tugged at her heart, but she knew she was protecting Lilian in the only way she could.

Alone in her room, Lilian lay in bed, the cool sheets wrapping around her tired body. Sleep came quickly, but her thoughts refused to rest. Gabriel’s image haunted her—no longer the boy she had known, but the man he had become: strong, determined, with a gaze that seemed to see right through her.

In her dreams, she found herself once again in the courtyard of Cavendish Manor, but she was not alone. Gabriel stood before her, his mischievous smile stirring something deep within her — a feeling she could not ignore.

“Lilian,” he called, his voice low and smooth. She stepped toward him, and as she did, the world around them seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the soft dance of light and shadow. On the cusp of sleep, Lilian could almost feel the warmth of his touch, even knowing it was a dream. When she opened her eyes, Gabriel’s name lingered on her lips, an unspoken secret that refused to be forgotten — an echo of desire she had buried deep within.

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