The heavy rain that had started before dawn continued well into the morning. For a spring shower, it was unusually fierce; the relentless downpour beat against the windows without pause.

Startled awake by the noise, Bella pressed a hand to her throbbing head. She had felt the first signs of a fever the previous day. The moment she opened her eyes, a chill ran through her body.

Shivering, she forced herself to sit up and began searching through the drawer.

“At least I don’t have to go out early this morning…”

Bella rolled onto her side and coughed weakly. Her voice, hoarse from coughing throughout the night, emerged as a faint, weary sigh.

She had overslept because of what had happened the night before. Rushing to get up, she learned from the maid sharing her room that the duke had already left.

Given how much worse her fever had become and how uncertain she felt about facing him, it was, in a way, a small relief.

‘If I rest for a bit, I should be fine by the time he returns.’

Bella rubbed her aching right shoulder and tried to suppress her unease. However, an unpleasant premonition lingered, whether because of her condition or something else.

“I knew you’d act like this. The moment His Grace steps out, you grow lazy. Stop loafing around and get up. The young lady is looking for you.”

And as always, her bad feelings were never wrong.

***

Joshua wasn’t the only one who had noticed the change in the Duke of Fraser’s gaze.

Amelia had noticed it, too.

You didn’t need to ask to know where the eyes of the man she loved were fixed. Logan hadn’t even bothered to hide it from her.

It was the kind of look that only someone who had been in love would recognize. The Duke’s interest in the maid was not mere curiosity.

‘Why her of all people?’

If it had been another maid, perhaps she would not have felt so unsettled. But that maid—her, of all people—was different.

‘Has he still not forgotten?’

So much time had passed since the fire that Amelia had assumed the Duke had moved on. He had never been involved in the slightest scandal with a servant before, and he seemed to have completely overcome the trauma of the fire that had once haunted him.

If such a man was now drawn to a maid, it boded ill for her.

“You sent for me, miss?”

Right on cue, the maid Amelia had summoned entered the room. Seeing her step in listlessly, as though displeased to have been summoned, irritated Amelia no end.

“I heard His Grace stepped out, and you’ve been doing nothing.”

Amelia’s displeased gaze swept over the maid from head to toe.

“The other day, when I saw you, I wanted to talk to you, but His Grace was there, so I didn’t. If you have any free time, remember that you are responsible for helping the other maids. Instead, you were laughing and chatting with Joshua. Just because you’re assigned to attend to His Grace, does that make you a maid of the ducal household?”

Her thin, cutting voice struck like a whip. Even Bella’s quiet apology — “I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful from now on”, offered without excuse or protest, only seemed to irritate her further.

It was as though Amelia herself were being portrayed as cruel simply for expecting proper behavior from a mistress.

“I’m sick of your apologies. Enough. Go see Madam Margo. I commissioned her to prepare summer creams.”

With open irritation, Amelia flung a small note in front of Bella.

“Madam Margo’s residence…?”

Bella glanced out of the window. Sheets of rain were pouring down so heavily that visibility was almost completely obscured. It was the kind of weather that could leave even a healthy person confined to bed with a severe cold. She hesitated.

“So, are you refusing? The other maids are working while you stand idle. It won’t take half the day to run this errand. You’ll be back long before His Grace returns.”

Rather than withdrawing her command, Amelia sharply reprimanded Bella for her hesitation.

From the outset, Bella had no real choice.

For a brief moment, she considered saying that she was unwell and that it might be difficult for her to go. But the words never left her lips. Amelia would probably dismiss it as just another excuse to avoid the task.

“…I’ll go.”

Better this than angering her mistress with needless protest.

“Hmph. You should have agreed from the beginning.”

Amelia smiled in satisfaction as Bella accepted the command without resistance.

Soon, through the window, she saw the maid leaving the estate with an umbrella in hand.

‘Let her catch a cold in that downpour.’

While the maid was bedridden with a high temperature, Amelia planned to exploit the situation and take her place as the duke’s attendant. If the maid were out of sight for long enough, the duke would naturally lose interest.

If none of the other maids were deemed suitable, she could fill the position herself.

Serving tea to the duke while he worked was well within her capabilities.

‘If anything, I’ll have more time alone with him.’

Amelia imagined Logan at his desk, a pleased smile curving her lips. Her mood lifted at once, and she began to hum softly. The sound of the rain striking the roof served as her accompaniment.

***

Having finished his engagements outside, Logan boarded the carriage heading back to the Count’s estate.

He had just concluded a meeting with his secretary, who had travelled to Rosedale to conduct business negotiations and oversee the investigation into the hotel fire.

As the carriage moved off, Logan gazed at the sky, which was already dimmed by heavy clouds, despite it being early in the day.

“The investigation results for the hotel fire have come in.”

Logan flipped through the report his secretary handed him.

“Patrick Peloce inherited his father’s oil business and, in a short span of time, recklessly expanded into gold mines, coal and other ventures. It is said that he incurred enormous debt. To make matters worse, he took up gambling. News of this hasn’t reached the East yet, but rumors about Patrick Enterprises are already spreading in the West. Those who knew Patrick claim they weren’t surprised by how things turned out.”

It was a case of self-immolation, with no evidence of homicide.

Logan read through the report expressionlessly, then closed the file.

The conclusion was anticlimactic.

A businessman, driven to ruin by repeated failures and gambling debts, had started the fire in a fit of desperation. According to the report, the incident bore no connection to the fire at the Fraser ducal estate.

“Are you still… searching for the culprit behind that fire?”

Seeing Logan’s expression harden, the secretary asked cautiously.

The fire at the Fraser estate had begun with faulty wiring in the newly installed electric lights — a technology that had only recently been introduced to the capital. The eastern wing, where guests attending the banquet had been staying, remained untouched. However, the main residence, closer to where the blaze had started, had been reduced to rubble, claiming countless lives including members of the ducal family.

Following a lengthy investigation, the tragedy was ruled an unfortunate accident.

And yet, questions lingered.

Why did the wiring fail on the very night that guests were present? Why was his father, who should have been asleep in his bedchamber at that late hour, found in the study instead?

Despite Logan’s relentless pursuit of answers, that night yielded nothing.

If only he could find someone who had witnessed it, or investigate another similar fire!

Still suffering the effects of the previous night’s drinking, Logan leaned his head back against the carriage wall, exhausted.

‘Is she resting?’

His thoughts drifted back to the maid who had waited for him until dawn.

The mere recollection of the previous night sent a rush of heat through him.

He remembered her wide eyes looking up at him, like those of a startled rabbit. The softness of her lips.

Blinded by desire, he almost locked the door to stop her leaving and claimed her for the night. The urge to possess her entirely had seized him.

He wanted to breathe in her sweet scent, taste her like ripe fruit, and possess her completely.

‘If you had grown into adulthood… would you have looked like her?’

Isabella.

Logan clenched his fists as he thought about the girl who had slipped beyond his reach.

The maid who resembled her was dangerous.