62 What To Do

¬ FASHIRE

I observed intently as the servants followed my instructions, gently carrying the girl out of my bed chamber. I straightened, fixated on the closed door.

Maybelle started to say something but thought better of it, clamping her lips shut. She delved into her coat and donned dark gloves, then meticulously gathered the books, arranging them back onto the study table.

Her eyes lingered on the stack. "The parchment is gone, Fashire."

"Let me guess, it was protection for the documents?" I questioned. 

"Yes, and I did not bring a spare," she replied through gritted teeth, her features hardening into a steely glare.

That was a reckless oversight on her part. Anything could have happened. Regardless, I was hardly in a position to lecture, given recent events and my impulsive decision to dispose of Nile.