Chapter 51 - A Guard's Fear, A Duke's Itch

"Wait, Your Grace!"

I turned sharply at the voice, placing Isabella's meager belongings under my arm. Clara Meadows stood nervously in the dimly lit hallway outside Isabella's former prison of a bedroom. Her hands were twisting the fabric of her apron, a nervous habit I'd noticed earlier.

"What do you want?" I asked coldly.

Clara Meadows flinched at my tone but didn't retreat. "I wish to speak with you about... about what happened when the Duchess escaped."

I studied her carefully. The guard who had reportedly fallen asleep, allowing my wife to flee this miserable house. My initial instinct was to dismiss her, but something in her expression—a mixture of fear and determination—made me pause.

"You have one minute," I said, checking the grandfather clock at the end of the hall. "Use it wisely."

She nodded quickly. "I wasn't asleep that night, Your Grace. I was... I was afraid."

"Afraid?" I raised an eyebrow. "Of what? My wife is hardly intimidating."