William stormed into the bedroom, rage seething in his eyes. Jonathan was on the bed, sleeping peacefully, with no idea of the chaos that was occurring in the area.
"There is simply no way that Jonathan would commit such an act," William reassured himself.
Something strange entered his mind—something regarding the bedsheets. Scowling his brows, he called for a maid. "Bring me the sheet bed. Now."
A couple of minutes later, the maid returned, holding the folded sheets. William took them, eyeing them with narrowed eyes. His mind was in overdrive, trying to figure out if anything had happened or if all this was part of an arrangement.
"Keep these hidden," he ordered gruffly, handing them back. "Don't mention this to anyone."
He left the room, returning to the lounge where Juliet, Walter, and the crying maid were.
Juliet stood. "Take Jonathan to me," she ordered. "I'll take him from here."
William's jaws clenched. "I'll be in charge of him. You don't have to interfere."
