“I don’t believe that is your decision to make.”

The housekeeper drew herself upright, quivering with rage. “Choosing the household staff has always been my purview. Mine and Mr. Naysmith’s.”

“Perhaps it was, but I am mistress here now.” Brynn glanced down at the girl. “Do get up, Meg. The floor cannot be comfortable.”

Trembling, Meg obeyed. “Please, milady…” She latched desperately on to Brynn’s arm, evidently seeing her as a savior. “What will become of me if I’m thrown into the street?”

“You will not be thrown into the street,” Brynn assured her.

The housekeeper made a rude, scoffing sound. “She will not even disclose the father of her bastard- if she even knows his name.”

Meg’s shoulders stiffened, while her weeping subsided the slightest degree. “Certainly I know it. I just won’t tell you.”

“You disgraceful jezebel,” Mrs. Poole interjected, “luring some man into sin-” She broke off suddenly, flushing as she glanced over Brynn’s shoulder, toward the doorway. “M-my lord…”

Lucian stood there, surveying the three women curiously.

Brynn felt herself stiffen. It reflected badly on all three of them that not only had his lordship’s peace been upset, but that he was required to visit the servants’ quarters to investigate the cause. Yet discomfiting Lucian wasn’t what worried her; rather, his presence roused her protective instincts.

She had no idea how he would react to such a major transgression by one of his young servants- whether he would endorse Meg’s dismissal or show leniency because of his own rakish past. It would be better for the girl, Brynn realized, if she could handle the problem herself. She would no doubt have a fight on her hands with the housekeeper, though.

“That will be all, Mrs. Poole,” Brynn said before the woman could speak up. “You may go.”

The housekeeper raised her chin stubbornly. “I should like to hear what his lordship has to say about the matter, my lady.”

“We needn’t trouble his lordship.” She sent Lucian a faint smile. “I regret the disturbance. It will not happen again.”

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a long look, then glanced at the housekeeper, who had pursed her lips as if she had swallowed vinegar.

“I trust you understand, Mrs. Poole,” Lucian said mildly, “that Lady Wycliff is mistress here. She commands household matters.”

His implied threat made the housekeeper’s starch wilt. “Yes, of course, my lord,” she answered meekly.

As rigid as stone, Mrs. Poole turned away, daring only a brief, scathing glance at Meg before she left the room.

Brynn flashed her husband a genuine smile this time, grateful that he had chosen not to undermine her authority. Her influence was shaky enough, given that her marriage to Lucian had been so contentious in the past. The servants could not have failed to see the chill between them.

Lucian was still watching her. “I had hoped I might have the pleasure of your company for breakfast, my love,” he said lightly.

“I will be down directly, but… I would like a few moments here first.”

“Certainly. I shall see you shortly.”

When he was gone, Brynn took one look at Meg and urged her to lie down.

“Thank you, milady,” Meg replied, looking green around the mouth.

“Perhaps I should summon the doctor.”

“I am fine, truly. This will pass. My sister always had this trouble when she was breeding.”

When the girl curled up on her mattress, Brynn went to the washstand. Wetting one corner of a cloth, she glanced around the austere chamber with its rows of cots. It was not a particularly pleasant place to live-cold in winter and sweltering in summer. Certainly Meg could not remain here to bear her child. Not only would it set a poor example for the other servants, but a baby could not be raised here. Some other solution would have to be found.

Returning to sit beside the invalid, Brynn applied the damp cloth to the girl’s sweating brow. After a moment Meg’s nausea seemed to pass, and she opened her eyes.

“You are so kind, milady.”

Brynn returned a smile. “Would you care to tell me what happened?”

Meg dropped her gaze. “I am weak and wicked, I know, but I did not seduce him as Mrs. Poole said. It is just that he was so handsome…”

“Who is the father, Meg?” Brynn asked gently. “You should not have to bear this difficulty alone.”

The girl’s lower lip trembled. “I would rather not say. I don’t want to get him into trouble.”

“Meg, I cannot help you if I don’t understand your situation.”

“It makes no matter, anyway. He doesn’t want to wed me. But… it’s… John, milady. John Hotchkiss. He’s underfootman for Lord Bonamy, across the square.”

Brynn hesitated. “Does your John know about the child?”

“He knows.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes.

“And what does he have to say about it? ”

“He fears dismissal if he were to offer for me… Even if he could gain permission, he has no money to afford a wife. I don’t think he wants to be leg-shackled.” Meg covered her face with her hands. “It only happened twice. I never thought…”

She didn’t believe she would be so fertile, Brynn mentally concluded the unspoken sentence.

“And I never thought I would have a by-blow,” the girl moaned. “My mum would die of shame if she were alive to see it. And my sister… she is sure to disown me.”

“Do you have any other family you could live with?”

“No, milady. Just a brother who works in the mills.”

Brynn patted her shoulder, wanting to offer comfort. “Well, we will think of something.”

Looking up abruptly, Meg grasped her hand and gave it a fervent kiss. “Milady, you are truly an angel.”

Flushing, Brynn rose to her feet. “Try to get some rest, Meg. I need a little time to consider what to do.”

She summoned the butler and asked him to send for the doctor, then joined Lucian in the breakfast parlor. When he looked up from the morning paper, Brynn was struck again by the intense blue of his eyes.

“I gather peace has been restored?” he commented when she was settled at the table and the footmen had withdrawn.

“Yes, at least for now.” She could have allowed the subject to drop, but felt a need to express her gratitude. “Thank you for supporting me with Mrs. Poole. She tends to question my authority.”

Lucian gave an elegant shrug. “It was nothing. You are mistress here. You may run the household as you see fit-for as long as you remain.”

He was alluding to their bargain, she realized. Brynn lowered her gaze to her coffee cup.

“I trust the difficulty is not of great magnitude?”

“Nothing that cannot be resolved.”

“Would you care to discuss it? Perhaps I can help.”

She gave Lucian a questioning glance, wondering at his sincerity. “Is the pin money you allotted me mine to spend as I wish?” she said finally.

“Of course. And so is the household allowance. Why do you ask? ”

Brynn took a deep breath, gambling that she could trust him. “Because my maid is with child by one of the footmen across the square, and I should like to help her.”

“I see,” Lucian replied, his expression enigmatic.

Despite her determination to remain calm, Brynn felt herself growing defensive. “I will not have her turned out, as Mrs. Poole intended, Lucian. What Meg did was wrong, but she should not be the only one to suffer. The sin was her lover’s as well. I strongly suspect he seduced her, but even if not, it isn’t fair that the girl must be punished while the man can evade the consequences with complete impunity! ”

“No, it isn’t fair,” Lucian agreed mildly. “I will give you no argument there.”

When a wry smile curled his mouth, Brynn regarded him with suspicion. “I fail to see how my poor maid’s dilemma could be cause for amusement.”

“I wasn’t thinking of her dilemma but of your bluestocking tendencies. I was picturing how your notions of equality would sit with most of my peers.”

“Most of your peers are pompous stuffed shirts who believe women were put on this earth merely to serve them!”

“Calm down, love. We are not at odds here. Your passion is admirable.”

Her cheeks flushed, but her hackles settled down. Perhaps there was no need for belligerence after all.

“There is a simple answer to avoiding an illegitimate child,” Lucian observed. “The couple can marry.”

“Meg doesn’t think her footman would be allowed to wed without losing his position with Lord Bonamy.”

“I have influence with Bonamy. I’m sure I can persuade him to intervene. Her footman can be compelled to marry the girl, if need be.”

“But I don’t want her to be compelled to accept marriage against her will the way-” Brynn broke off. The way I was, was what she meant to say. Seeing understanding register in his blue eyes, Brynn bit her lip.

“I know,” she explained more diplomatically, “you might find it hard to understand, given your gender and your exalted rank, but for a woman, marriage can be worse than servitude. You have no idea what it is like to be subject to someone else’s every whim, to have no rights other than the ones your husband chooses to bestow upon you.”

His eyebrows rose. “Have I been so overbearing, then?”

“No… not entirely. But it isn’t pleasant to be totally at your mercy. How would you like it if you were dependent on me for every morsel of food, every scrap of clothing? If I could arbitrarily overrule your smallest decision, such as what friends you associated with? Or if I threatened to send you to the country if you disobeyed me?” As you threatened me. She could see Lucian’s comprehension.