When the chair was slowly pushed back after dinner, the warmth of conversation lingered behind. The eyes around the table followed me as I rose, but Rebecca's gaze clung to me longer than the rest. She hadn't bothered to lower her voice when asking why Willabelle was even here. The look on her face told me enough; she almost certainly knew of the betrayal. Which meant I had to weigh every word with care.
I convinced her that Willabelle had already suffered enough punishment and posed no further threat. The veil of suspicion did not fully vanish from Rebecca's eyes, but at least we managed to leave the table without disturbing the peace. It was a good idea to seat Willabelle and her nephew Magnus at separate tables from us, so that Rebecca or Annabel wouldn't put them in an awkward position.
Now, another matter awaited me: Baron Douglas's daughter. Leaving behind the silent storm of family tensions, I stepped onto the stage of political calculations and delicate diplomacy.
