Mister Ray’s anxious eyes trailed Miss McMillan as she began to depart; he was relieved that she was leaving. Her presence had rapidly become irksome, and he was aware of the fact that Lord McMillan would likely not be pleased if he were to find his daughter, in that attire, in the midst of a discussion with the fool tutor who gave her a book on<span style="font-style: italic">business</span>, of all things. The door swung open and, waiting just beyond the threshold, was Lord McMillan. Mister Ray’s hand quivered on his tie in trepidation. The Earl demanded the young woman to go to her room – and Miss McMillan immediately obeyed, scurrying out of Mister Ray’s sight in an instant. Then Lord McMillan addressed Mister Ray. His tone was not reassuring in the slightest.<br/><br/>Mister Ray acknowledged the man before him, bowing a measure more deeply than usual, and greeted him, “Lord McMillan.” His composure, which had been fretful before, had attained a state of outward calm. Although Mister Ray’s mind was buzzing uneasily, his body language was relaxed – even if that coolness was a fabrication. There was, still, a slight tension in his jaw and in his shoulders, and a worry line marred his wide forehead. Ray awaited the words of his employer, and hoped that the man would not misinterpret the situation.