Ardently |h.s|

twenty one

The house is dark now, quiet. A stark contrast to the fiery, loud conversations between the Viscount, the Viscountess and I when we arrived to the house. However, it is exactly how I would describe Liam.

While his parents questioned my decisions and told me how I was making a mistake and that Lord Styles must not have good intentions, Liam sat silently. He refused to look at me. He refused to speak to me. It sent shivers down my spine and left me feeling uneasy.

The Viscount and his wife do not believe that Harry is being honest. They believe this is an elaborate ruse by the family to expose me and ruin the reputation of the Paynes in society. The Viscount claims the Duke is so embarrassed by the way he has been forced to apologize for his son being rude to a servant, that he will go to whatever lengths necessary to put us in our place. While I have never thought of it in that way, that seems far too unlikely.

If that were the case, Harry would not have written that letter. Quite honestly, I do not believe for a second that the Duke and Duchess even know about how he came to the house with flowers and a letter to beg my forgiveness. If they were all in on this, Harry would not want to keep up correspondence.

I sit in front of the firelight again, reading over both of Harry's letters to me. His handwriting captivates me. It is better than my own. I find it funny how he signs off his letters so formally. Lord Harry Styles of Cheshire. Might as well add, 'Soon to be Duke of Cheshire.'

His words bring me comfort tonight. Funny how I'm finding comfort in the man that once caused me pain, and pain in the family that once brought me comfort. In his anger, the Viscount called me ungrateful and disrespectful for claiming to be exhausted by this new lifestyle. That I was once a maid, working night and day and now I sit around all day and worry about nothing.

What is it with these men and their obsession with putting me in my place?

I am allowed to be tired. I would rather be working downstairs again. This is not the life I wanted nor asked for. They seem to forget that they forced this upon me under my mother's name at the most convenient times.

Getting up from my seat at the fire, I go to my desk, putting my letters away for safekeeping. As I take out a fresh piece of parchment and the quill, I hear light footsteps outside. Confused, I get up, walking over to the door. The letter can wait.

I catch a glimpse of Liam going down the stairs and my heart races. Quietly, I close my door and follow down the hall. While following, I keep my distance, almost scared to approach him after the way he has acted.

Once we are down in the empty kitchen of the servant's quarters, I make myself known. "Brother."

He turns around, jumping slightly at the sudden noise. Only when he sees it is me, he turns back to get some biscuits out. With a sigh, I approach, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Liam." He ignores me again.

"Fine, you won't speak to me, then I will talk. At least I know I will not be interrupted by you." I start. I give him a moment to say anything, but when he does not, I continue. "Do you remember the fight we had when I was eleven and you, fourteen? Because I do, clear as day. Your father reprimanded you that day, and it made you upset. I wasn't aware of what happened, so when I approached you to play, you snapped at me. You told me to get back to work and never bother you again. You called me servant and told me I was unworthy of your attention." I remind him, my eyes narrowing.

Nothing. "We didn't speak for weeks. I stayed out of your way and kept to my work, purposely avoiding you. Because you, my brother, made me feel inferior. We were once equals and with that one word, you reminded me that we were never the same. We were strangers. Until one night, you came to my room with biscuits and apologized."