"Wouldn’t it be rude if I rejected the kindness of my employer? I would not like to offend you, and if anyone else has cleaned those chambers, they would know what the dresses look like. I don’t want the other maids to see that I have been rewarded with those dresses," Iris explained, her mind fretting over the jealous eyes of her peers.

"And what would they think when they see a new expensive dress? If you were imagining that I would buy you a second-hand gown or a cheaply made one, then you would be insulting me," Zayne said, for he was a man with taste and pride in his choices.

"I was going to take what you offered me, and I wouldn’t be going around showing off the dress. I would treasure it and hold it in hopes that there might be a day I could wear it. Until then, it would stay hidden away in my quarters, but I share that space with three other maids," Iris said, realising the trouble that would follow.

"Would they go into your bags?" Zayne asked, leaning forward, intrigued by her hesitation.

"Some are a bit too curious, and I am not close to two of the ladies. But I can’t ask to switch quarters as they are all full. As the new maid, I don’t have a place to complain. I forgot this," Iris said, moving to the bed to fold a blanket.

Zayne intently watched Iris, forgetting about his food, which was growing warm on the tray. "Are you getting along well with all the maids?"

"I am new, with no prior work to my name, yet I became your maid with ease. Plenty of the maids aren’t pleased, especially the ones who admire you, but it doesn’t trouble me. It is better than being without work," Iris said, strong enough to bear the treatment though her heart ached at the cold stares she endured daily.

"Once you say that you are Lady Hawthorne’s cousin, it will benefit you," Zayne assured her, offering a solution she had overlooked.

"I don’t want to be throwing around her name for my benefit, and it would only open more questions, like if I am jealous that she married a lord while I am scrubbing floors," Iris said, her pride refusing to bend.

"What floors are you scrubbing? I have not asked you to scrub any floors, nor have I witnessed you scrubbing any," Zayne said, his amusement clear, causing Iris to glare at him.

"These floors!" Iris exclaimed, pointing to the polished boards beneath their feet. "Do they not look as though they have been cleaned?"

Iris hated to think that all her hard work was for nothing. Her knees still ached from kneeling on the floors, scrubbing them when Zayne was away.

"If they are dirty, then it is your fault," Iris said, placing the blame squarely on him.

"Me?" Zayne pointed at his chest, appalled that she would dare accuse him.

"Yes, you. Your bedchamber is dark, just like the rest of your mansion. I could only clean what I could see, and I must be out of the chamber as well as have it dry by the time you return home," Iris said, her eyes flicking to the dim corners of the room.

"What am I doing?" Iris asked herself silently. "I am speaking to my employer as though he is my friend. I must be wanting to lose my work."

"Are we not friends? I am a bit offended, Iris. All this time, I thought we were friends and poured my heart out to you. I even let you be here at times when I like to be alone. I like to have my dinners alone unless friends and family are present," Zayne said, his voice carrying a note of wounded pride.

"I apologise for saying that it is your fault. You did say that I could open the drapes when you are not present, and I failed to do so," Iris said, lowering her head. "I won’t do it again."

"You’re spoiling my fun, Iris. As much as I love being home alone, it gets dull at times, and lately I have been enjoying our talks. Now, you’re starting to sound like the other maids with those same overused responses," Zayne said, disliking the change in her tone.

"I am a maid," Iris reminded him. "There is a way in which I am to speak to you so that I remain respectful and not lose my work."

"Didn’t I say we were family as well? You know, with Eloise marrying Damien and us being related to them."

"I am related to Eloise by blood. Our fathers were brothers. Unless you are some secret love child and your family was so kind as to take you in, then you are not family to Lord Hawthorne. We are not family," Iris said, wanting Zayne to understand. "Do not tell anyone we are family."

"Friends can become family over time. Have you never had a friend you find so close that you think of them more than some relatives?"

"I do," Iris answered, continuing to tidy the chamber. "Thankfully, that friend has always been Eloise, and she is my cousin. Eloise has always been the person I can most rely on. We remained close even when she left town."

"Do you know if she wrote to Damien during that time?" Zayne asked, moving to take his seat at the table.

"She didn’t. She would have told me if she had. I find it odd that Eloise didn’t speak a word about Damien and was rooting for me when I chased after him. Perhaps their love came out of the blue. Do not ask for more, since I will not feed you gossip," Iris said.

"Lady Hawthorne is quite fortunate to have two little guards at her side. You and Damien are quite protective of her. It doesn’t surprise me that the two of you might not get along. One of you keeps stealing the woman the other cherishes," Zayne said, followed by a chuckle.

"Would you care to do something fun, Iris? Something under the guise that you are cleaning a chamber for me? You might not want to take the dresses, but would you care to try them on and pretend for a moment?" Zayne asked, and judging by Iris’s pause, he knew he had caught her.