The gentle knock on my bedroom door irritated me more than it should have. I glanced at the ornate clock on my mantel—nearly midnight. Who would dare disturb me at this hour?
"Enter," I called out, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice.
Randall had been insufferable today. The fool thought I wasn't aware he was skimming additional profits from our arrangement. Did he truly believe I wouldn't notice? I, Lady Beatrix Beaumont, who had manipulated aristocrats and merchants alike since before he could tie his own cravat?
I sighed, running my fingers over the fine silk of my nightgown. They could strip me of my title, but never my cunning. Though I missed the days when my name commanded immediate respect, I was steadily rebuilding my fortune through carefully orchestrated schemes.
