The business with Mr. Parks had revolted her. That such kindly-seeming people as Mr. Parks and Mrs. Hawkins could be guilty of corruption darkened her view of human nature. And, what was more troubling, she wasn't sure of her own motives. Why had she agreed to keep the information from the Viscount? Did she do it in sympathy for the servants' plight or to keep from having to face their resentment? Was she kind or merely cowardly? Worst of all was her feeling of loneliness. Without a single friend, she was imprisoned in this vast house and forced to play the repressive role of custodian to the Viscount's fortune. That's what she was, a Constable of Finance. What sort of role was that for a young, vital woman? Except for the library, there was no place here for enjoyment, no outlet for her spirits to lift from the doldrums. Even the act of eating was depressing. Lady Martha had generously decreed that she was to take her meals with the "family," but there was no family here. Her ladyship herself was gone, leaving only the Viscount to dine with.
