Tilly bustled and chattered, friendly and efficient as ever. Jane could barely bring herself to look at the girl, let alone speak to her with any kind of courtesy. She suspected Tilly was as grateful as she was when Jane was finally wrapped in her night attire and able to dismiss her to bed. Or to report to Captain Conroy. Jane sat heavily on the edge of her bed, clasping her hands together. She had been very careful at Mr. Hume’s party. She had spoken with no one but Georgiana and a handful of other female acquaintances. The whole time, Conroy had circulated around the edges of the room with his knife-edged smile and arched brows. Jane wanted nothing so much as to fling his words back in his face, but that would label her this man’s enemy, and she had nothing with which to fight him. He was the old and trusted servant; she was the newcomer, brought in on the grounds that she might prove useful. She had no doubt Conroy, who commanded the attention of both the duke and the duchess, could have her dismissed, if not at once, then soon.
