A Brazen Duty (#2 BRAZEN series-part of the GOLDEN universe) ✔

•T W E N T Y - O N E•

"No, stay." Harriet skimmed through her father's words, shocked at how they'd changed from petulant and peeved to panicked and desperate. "Listen to this. Dear daughter, I beseech you... bla bla bla... beg for mercy... regret my attitude, my actions. Ha! Does he, now?" A toxic saliva gathered in her mouth and she yearned to spit it onto Eugene's fake apologies. "I was never a good father, oh, is that so?"

Johanna cringed. "I should go—"

"—no, stay, please," Harriet waved at her to sit, "I must share this with someone. And who better than you? You are aware as much as I am of how horrible he is." Johanna obeyed, but not without a frown, her shoulders pushed back, her knees falling inward. "I do not want to die, he says. Should he not have thought of that sooner? Before wrapping himself up in illegal businesses that put him, that put me in danger?" She sensed her cheeks overheating, her heart filling with rage. "And they want me to determine whether he lives or dies. Me? The daughter he destroyed? How can I choose?"

Chewing on her lip, Johanna looked into her lap. "It is not for me to say."

"It is not?" Harriet scrunched the letter into a ball and tossed it towards the fireplace. To her shock, her aim was impeccable—the flames devoured the paper in a matter of seconds. "He was a tyrant. Treated the staff like they were insects he could crush, did he not?"

"He did..." Johanna shrugged, "but we belonged to him. Truthfully, he had a right to do with us as he pleased."

Surprised by Johanna's sudden reluctance to insult the man who had ruined their lives, Harriet moved around the desk and sat on the seat beside her. What had happened? Not that long ago she'd been quite outspoken about her hatred towards Sir Thatcher; but here she held her tongue, as if afraid someone would cut it out.

Why is she not being honest?

"Johanna, you need not filter your thoughts. This is me. The one he tortured more than anyone else in this household. Perhaps not physically, but emotionally... he damaged me beyond repair." She seized Johanna's hands in hers, forcing the new housekeeper to lift her chin. Her dove-feathered eyes were worried, twitchy, her lips pressed into a hard line, as if to sew her mouth shut.

"You... are not beyond repair." Johanna averted her gaze, her chin fighting gravity. "Look at you—a proper lady, owning a manor, commanding a staff, signing documents! I could not be prouder. And I heard about the arrests from the staff; how you invited everyone to dinner and half of the guests left in chains? Such a bold statement!" She tugged one hand from Harriet's grasp and twirled the end of her raven braid around her fingers, still refusing to let their eyes meet. "You are strong, and you can decide what to do with him. You are the only one who may do so."

"I agree," came a voice from the doorway, prompting both Harriet and Johanna to leap to their feet.

Prince Jules, arms crossed, leaned against the threshold. His silky rose-colored shirt was unbuttoned at the top, casual and comfortable, and a few laces of his boots were undone. How long had he been there? Harriet had seen him leave a few hours prior, and didn't realize he'd returned.

"Highness." Johanna dipped into a curtsy.

Harriet did the same, legs wobbly and arms stiff. "You... agree?" She blinked at him, hesitating to fully connect their gazes. Last time that had happened, she'd gotten lost in the dreamy daze his presence created.

"I do. I would not have said so in my letter from a few days ago if I did not. And Antoine would not have agreed either." He strode into the office, and the closer he got, the smaller Harriet felt.