All Chapters of The lords' maid: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Lucian’s POV ​I stood outside my mother's private bedchamber, smoothing down the front of my tailored coat as I let out a long, quiet breath. The morning sun was just beginning to spill through the tall arched windows, signaling the start of her birthday. ​Lifting my hand, I knocked twice on the painted wood. ​"Come in," her voice called out gently. ​I pushed the door open to find my mother sitting before her vanity, her silken robe draped around her shoulders. I walked over, stepping into her space, and leaned down to press a soft kiss against her cheek before setting a small, ribbon-tied velvet box onto her dressing table. ​"Happy birthday, Mother," I said softly. ​A radiant smile broke across her face as her fingers touched the velvet. "Oh, thank you, my son." She looked up at my reflection in the mirror, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Are you ready for tonight?" ​My chest tightened. I took a slow step back, placing my hands behind my waist to mask the sudden te

Eva’s POV ​Lucian steered me down the final steps of the grand staircase, his hand resting firmly at the small of my back. ​The orchestra swelled into a sweeping waltz, and before I could draw a breath, he pulled me straight onto the polished ballroom floor. I stumbled over the hem of my silk gown, my footing awkward and stiff as he spun me into the sea of dancing nobles. ​Lucian leaned down, his voice dropping into a low hum near my ear. "You really do not know how to dance, do you?" ​I looked up, meeting his sharp, analytical eyes with a tight line on my lips. "No." ​"Well, we are going to have to work on that before our wedding," he murmured smoothly, leading me through a turn. "We will have a lot of balls to host, My Lady. You cannot be tripping over your own feet." ​"Okay," I whispered, keeping my eyes fixed on his lapel, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a real reaction. ​When the music shifted and the dance required switching partners, Lucian’s hand slipped from m

Lady Eleanor’s POV ​I stood before the grand fireplace in my private bedchamber, my chest heaving with a mixture of raw disappointment and utter embarrassment. ​ ​I turned around to face them. Lucian sat on the edge of the leather armchair, dabbing at his split, bloody lip with a silk handkerchief. Leo stood near the balcony doors, his shirt torn at the collar, a dark bruise blooming rapidly across his jawline. ​"Have you both lost your minds?" I snapped, my voice trembling with cold rage. "Have you completely lost it?" ​Neither of them spoke. They stared at the floor, their breathing still ragged from the fight. ​"It is my birthday," I continued, taking a sharp step toward them. "We have a grand gala filled with the highest nobility in the province right downstairs. My personal maid—your wife-to-be, Lucian—was publicly accused of stealing my finest jewels, and then fell down a flight of marble steps! And you have the audacity to start a bloody fistfight right outside the

Lady Eleanor’s POV ​The afternoon sun spilled across the private balcony, bathing the stone balustrade in a warm, golden light. I sat alone at the small iron table, swirling a cup of pale tea, staring out over the sprawling green grounds of Valenridge. ​My mind was heavy. Arthur’s words from last night kept echoing in my head. If Lucian married and took over the duchy, Arthur would finally retire. He would be home constantly. ​A quiet wave of dread washed over me at the thought. To the rest of the province, I was the envied Duchess of De Witt—a woman of absolute power, grace, and noble standing. But within the quiet stone walls of this estate, I was utterly miserable. Decades of a cold, transactional marriage with Arthur had left me feeling like an empty shell. Yet, demanding a divorce was unthinkable. The scandal would create a public humiliation so massive it would ruin the family line and shatter my sons' futures. I was trapped in my own title. ​"A penny for your thoughts, beau

Leo’s POV ​I waited in the shadowed alcove of the east wing until the grand carriage pulled away. ​I watched through the high stained-glass window as Lucian and my father departed the grounds for their afternoon meeting with the regional trade council. As soon as the iron gates clicked shut behind them, I moved. My heart hammered against my ribs with a frantic, unyielding rhythm, every nerve in my body screaming at me to walk away before I made a catastrophic mistake. ​I ignored the warning voice in my head. I couldn't stop now. ​I slipped down the long, carpeted corridor toward Eva’s private chambers, pausing outside her heavy oak door. I drew a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm the raw panic in my chest, and knocked gently. ​"Come in," her soft, melodic voice called out from inside. ​I turned the brass handle and pushed the door open, stepping into the sunlit room. ​The breath caught entirely in my throat. ​Eva was standing near the large window, turning to face