**THE BRAZEN SERIES is part of the GOLDEN UNIVERSE**
♦YOU MUST HAVE READ BOOK ONE, A BRAZEN MAIDEN, TO READ THIS SEQUEL!♦
♦♦It is ALSO recommended that you read THE GOLDEN GIRL/DUCHESS/PRINCESS & QUEEN to better understand events in this novel, as...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
♪ What you been up to, my baby? I haven't seen you 'round here lately ♪ {Lana Del Rey—How To Disappear}
Sir Newton and Jacob's men carried off the obscure artwork and piled the pieces into vehicles. All of Eugene's priceless favorites stuffed into wagons and covered with old cloths relieved some of Harriet's anxieties.
She watched them leave from her office window. Carriage after carriage, they hauled away the nightmare-inducing paintings, the oddly shaped sculptures, the indecipherable texts in the Library. And Harriet prayed someone would pay a small fortune for them. Because she'd reviewed the books, and Sir Newton was right; they were in trouble. And without her father's questionable income to save them, she needed to rely on his questionable taste in art.
She noticed Nestor overseeing the process. He helped heave the canvasses into the carriages and conversed with Sir Newton in what appeared to be hushed tones. She envied Jacob's calm demeanor when he spoke with Nestor. He stood beside the treacherous steward without a flinch, without a sign of suspicion.
But Harriet cloistered to her office because she knew she'd never be able to hide her growing disgust at Nestor's actions.
All her life. Had he been working for Eugene since the beginning? Been converted while she attended the Academy? Or was Nestor a more recent addition to the team of culprits, taking part in all their dirty deeds? The thoughts ate at her core as she tried to work through the paperwork she'd set aside. The idea of someone once so close to her, once so dear, concealed beneath a mask of cruelty... it hurt her more than she could admit.
It didn't help that Nestor's manners were... off-putting. He'd kept to himself since the maid's death, and a few of his supposed sell swords had joined the household, lurking in corners. A few times Harriet snuck out to fetch food from the kitchens, because she trusted no one to make her meals. And each time, she heard about Nestor—supervising this or that task she didn't understand—or saw him from afar.
Once, she spotted Nestor loitering in front of his bedroom door, speaking in low tones with men Harriet didn't know as he shuffled about uneasily. He saw her and flashed her a smile from across the way—the Dining Room separated them—but even with distance, she smelled the falseness in the gesture. Had he always smiled like that? Had she been blind for years, unaware of what such a smile concealed?
He tried to poison me.
The more she dwelled on it, the more she was certain he had attempted to kill her. But like Mrs. Banks said, it made no sense. Why kill the only heir to Sir Thatcher's dwindling fortune? Surely Nestor expected Sir Thatcher to give over the reins to him, but would King Antoine approve of that? He had entrusted Harriet to the task of restoring Limesdale Manor; not Nestor. And without any sign from Harriet of whether or not Nestor was an ally... King Antoine was sure to decline him and put another in his place. A noble with experience.
