Chapter 11
Clara looked down at the plain white envelope resting beside her tea mug. Her fingers hovered over it hesitantly, afraid to touch it. "What's this, sir?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Julian slid it an inch closer across the grain of the wood. "That's your back pay adjusted for overtime, plus a bonus for the trouble you've been put through tonight," Julian said. "And an apology. From my household to yours." Clara looked up, her lower lip trembling. "I... I can't take extra, Mr. Julian. Just keeping my job... Mrs. Elena said I was fired—" "Mrs. Elena was mistaken," Julian interrupted, his tone firm but kind. "And she will be down here shortly to tell you that herself." Clara shook her head, looking back down at the table. "I don't know if I can work upstairs anymore, sir. Not after... not after the way she looked at me." Julian nodded slowly, acknowledging the weight of her words without trying to brush them aside. "I understand that completely. Take tomorrow off. Think about what you want to do. If you want to transfer to the estate office or take a position at one of our properties in the city, the option is yours."
