When the last guest disappeared, Duke Allaric walked toward the tall windows.

“Do you know why I asked that question thirty times?” he said.

“No, Your Grace.”

“Three years ago, my younger brother died. He left behind a little boy. My nephew, Thomas.”

Marin lowered her eyes.

“The child was placed in the care of this household. Within six months, he became frightened of everyone. He stopped speaking. He refused his meals. The physician called it a nervous illness.”

Allaric’s jaw tightened.

“Last winter, I discovered that the servants had been withholding his food as punishment. The steward had ordered it. My brother’s child had been treated like an unwanted burden in the very house that should have protected him.”

Marin looked up, horrified.

“And the boy?”

“He died before spring.”

The duke turned away. For a moment, the powerful man seemed nothing more than a grieving uncle.

“I have spent months asking myself what kind of woman could enter this house and recognize what I failed to see. So I asked thirty women the same question. Every one of them told me how to punish the child. None asked why he was hungry.”

Marin’s fingers tightened around her prayer book.

“Your Grace, I am sorry.”

“Do not pity me. Tell me something instead. Why did you answer as you did?”

She hesitated.

“Because I was once that hungry child.”

The duke turned sharply.

“My father died when I was twelve. My mother worked until her hands bled, but there were nights when we had nothing. A kind widow once gave us bread without asking why we needed it. I never forgot her.”

“And your mother?”

“She died two winters ago. I have worked as a companion ever since.”

Allaric looked at her worn dress, her mended gloves, and the little book she held so carefully.

“Why did you never tell anyone?”

“Because I did not come here to be pitied, Your Grace.”

For a long moment, the room remained silent.

Then the duke approached the writing desk and rang the silver bell.

When his butler entered, Allaric gave an unexpected order.

“Prepare the east wing. Miss Ellery will remain at Ravenshade as my guest. And summon the steward. I wish to examine every household account.”

Marin looked startled.

“I cannot accept charity.”

“This is not charity. I am offering you a position. I need someone who understands that a household is measured not by the beauty of its rooms, but by how it treats those who cannot defend themselves.”

She studied him carefully.

“And what happens when I disagree with you?”

For the first time, the duke almost smiled.

“Then I shall have finally found someone worth listening to.”

Outside, the servants began whispering again. But this time, it was not about another failed marriage interview.

It was about the poor companion who had walked into a room of thirty wealthy women and spoken one truth that even a duke could not ignore.

And before winter arrived, Marin Ellery would discover that the greatest secret inside Ravenshade was not the dead boy’s story.

It was the truth about the duke himself.