Ms. Victoria Lane had impeccable credentials and glowing recommendations. Had she really walked away from her responsibility?
The thought ignited his temper.
He gently touched Eleanor’s shoulder. She startled awake, fear flashing across her face.
“Mr. Harrington—I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t be here,” she said quickly.
“It’s alright, Eleanor. Where is Victoria?”
Eleanor twisted her apron nervously. “She called earlier, sir. Said she wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t make it tonight.”
“And she left the children alone?” His voice sharpened.
“I tried to reach you, but your phone was off. She said she would arrange coverage in the morning.”
Anger surged—but beneath it, something heavier.
“And you stayed?”
“Yes, sir. I couldn’t leave them. They’re so small… What if they woke up frightened?” Her voice shook. “I know this isn’t my responsibility. I fell asleep. I understand if you dismiss me.”
Dismiss her?
For protecting his children?
He studied her properly for the first time in over a decade—the years she had quietly cared for his sprawling estate.
“How long have you worked here, Eleanor?”
“Thirteen years, sir. Since the year you bought the house.”
Thirteen years of invisible loyalty.