Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Isabella awoke early, her sleep disturbed by restless dreams. She sighed deeply, hoping the unease would fade with the dawn. Rising from her small bed in the servant's quarters, she dressed quickly, eager to begin her chores before the rest of the household stirred. Stepping quietly into the dimly lit hallway, she made her way to the kitchen, intent on fetching a pail of water to wash the front steps.

As she entered the kitchen, she was surprised to find Michael already there. He sat at the long wooden table, his brow furrowed as he scanned the morning's scandal sheets. At her approach, he looked up, his face etched with concern.

"Isabella," he said, his voice tinged with urgency, "you need to see this."

Her heart skipped a beat. Michael was never one for dramatics, which only heightened her anxiety. She hesitated before moving closer, her eyes fixed on the crumpled paper in his hands.

"What is it, Michael?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He motioned for her to sit, and she did so, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her apron. Michael cleared his throat, then began to read aloud:

" In a shocking turn of events, a lady's maid by the name of Isabella Monroe has been implicated in a recent theft. Sources claim she conspired with her attacker to steal valuable jewels from her employer, Lady Marie Montgomery.

The maid was found in a compromised state, her story full of inconsistencies. It is believed that she handed over the jewels willingly to her accomplice, making it appear as though she were an innocent victim."

Isabella's breath caught in her throat. "That is not true!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with indignation and fear. "I would never…"

Michael raised a hand to calm her. "I know, Isabella. I believe you. But these rumors...they are dangerous. They have named you directly. We need to address this before it spirals out of control."

Her mind raced. The scandal sheets were notorious for their sensationalism, but the damage they could inflict was real. She did not think that she would ever be a feature. It was normally only the wealthy that members of the ton were interested in.

"I need to speak with Lord Berkshire," she said resolutely. "He has to know the truth."

Michael nodded, then hesitated. "There is more," he said softly, looking down at the paper. "The scandal sheet also claims that you are trying to get close to Lord Berkshire to steal from him, too."

Isabella felt the floor drop out from under her. "What?" she whispered, horror struck. "They think...they think I am trying to rob him?"

Michael's eyes were full of sympathy. "Yes. They are suggesting you have targeted him as your next victim."

Tears welled up in Isabella's eyes, but she blinked them back. "This is a lie," she said firmly, though her voice wavered. "I would never do such a thing."

"Come," Michael said, offering her a hand. "Let's go to Lord Daniel together. He needs to hear this from you."

The walk to the study felt interminable. Isabella's heart pounded with each step, a mixture of dread and determination fueling her movements. When they reached the heavy wooden door, Michael knocked softly. A moment later, Daniel's voice called out for them to enter.

Daniel looked up from his desk, his expression a blend of curiosity and concern. "Isabella, Michael. What brings you here so early?"

Michael handed him the scandal sheet without a word. As Daniel read, his face darkened, his jaw tightening with each passing moment. Finally, he looked up, his eyes meeting Isabella's.

"Is this true?" he asked, his voice strained. "Where has this come from?"

"I…I do not know, Daniel, but none of it is true."

Daniel studied her for a long moment, the silence stretching between them. She could see the conflict in his eyes—the desire to believe her warring with the seeds of doubt planted by the scandal sheet. She hated the fact that the doubt was even there.

"Isabella," Daniel said finally, his voice softer, "I believe you."

Relief washed over her, but it was tempered by the lingering uncertainty in his gaze.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "I...I do not know what else to say. These accusations are false. I would never dream of stealing from you or anyone else."

Daniel nodded, standing and walking around the desk to stand closer to her. "I will take care of this," he said firmly. "I will speak to the publication and demand a retraction. We will get to the bottom of this. But until then...be careful. These rumors have a way of spreading, and we must be vigilant."

As she left the study, the weight of the accusations and the lingering doubt in Daniel's eyes bore heavily on her shoulders. She hurried down the hallway, her vision blurring with unshed tears. Reaching the solitude of the garden, she sank onto a bench and let the tears fall freely. The early morning sun cast long shadows around her, mirroring the uncertainty that clouded her thoughts. She could hear Michael calling out behind her, wanting to be her supportive friend, but right now, she needed to be alone.

What was she to do now? The scandal sheets had named her directly, tarnishing her reputation and casting a dark shadow over her future. Despite Daniel's reassurances, the small flicker of doubt in his eyes haunted her. How could she remain in his household, knowing that these rumors could ruin not just her, but also affect his standing?

Was this a clue that she should leave?

But where else could she go? The orphanage was only ever a temporary solution. It was not something that she could do forever. And with this hanging over her head, she knew for sure that she would not ever get another job.

Maybe she would even have to leave London to escape the nasty rumors that followed her, but she had no idea where to go.