James finished the handkerchief and quietly gloated over its perfect smoothness.

No rumpled corners.

No scorch marks.

It is beautiful.

He set the iron down just as his father had shown him. The hot end was up in the air. Nothing was touching it. Nothing was even near it. And it was not sitting on top of anything that could burst into flames.

Why would they let Nellie go?

He tried to imagine a reasonable explanation, but his seven-year-old imagination failed him completely.

It does not make sense.

Aloysius entered the room with a full stack of rumpled handkerchiefs. “I found a few more you can practice on.”

James looked up at his father. “Sir? Is it true, then?”

Aloysius set the wads of white linen on the ironing board.

“Is Nellie no longer May Rose’s personal maid?”

He laid each one as flat as he could in the tidiest pile he could manage. “It is not my place to discuss such matters.”

“I know, sir. Still, I would like to know.”

Aloysius tugged the top one until it was perfectly in place. “Yes.”

“Why? I do not understand it. Why would they let her go? She has been May Rose’s maid all her life.”

“She was also spreading unsavory rumors about Lord Farlington…and myself.” He kept his gaze lowered. Maybe he was looking at the handkerchiefs. Maybe not.

James frowned as he tried to make sense of it. “Is there any truth to the rumors?”

“Lord Farlington is my master. I respect him. I care for his reputation. Beyond that, there is nothing.”

“So, it is not true?”

“No.”

“Then, why would she—”

“I am sorry, James.” He looked up at his son. “There are some things I cannot share with you.”

James took a step back as if a door had been abruptly slammed in his face.

“I am sorry. Perhaps one day I will be free to do so.” He shook his head. “That day has not yet arrived.”

“Is it something shameful, sir?”

“No.”

“Then, why can you not speak of it?”

The expression in Aloysius’ eyes softened. “I have not the right to do so. For it does not involve just myself.”

“Lord Farlington?”

“Yes. If he gives me leave to speak of it, I will.” He put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “You will be the first one I tell it to, I promise.”

James bowed his head. “I understand, sir. Thank you.”

Aloysius released his shoulders. “Very well. Let me see how you iron.”

James perked up. “Yes, sir!”