“Madam, dinner is ready,” one of the maids called out as she knocked politely on Camille’s bedroom door. “Mr. Callahan says that he wants to dine together with you.”
Camille felt an instant wave of irritation. “Tell him that I’m not hungry and that I’ll be going straight to sleep,” she snapped.
“Oh, but Madam!” the maid exclaimed, sounding startled. “You can’t just… I mean, forgive my rudeness, but you cannot skip meals—”
“Then please bring me a tray here, Harrietta,” Camille said, making her voice softer this time. After all, the maid did nothing wrong, and she wasn’t the one provoking her ire. “I’ll eat here in my bedroom instead of the dining room.”
“I… Understood, Madam. I will bring it up for you right away.”
Camille listened to the sound of footsteps fade away before letting out
