Anette took a step back as she murmured, “As you wish.”
As she turned to leave, her father said, “Wait. I’m sorry. I should not have spoken to you that way. You have done nothing wrong, but I fear I’m taking out my frustrations on you. Forgive me?”
“You are forgiven.”
He walked up to her and pulled her into his arms. “I love you, dear, and I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”
“Nothing will happen to me,” she assured him.
“No, it won’t,” he asserted. “I will keep you safe, at all costs. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that happens.”
Anette could hear the pain in her father’s voice and she knew that he spoke true. But what was the cost that he was speaking of? Should she reveal that she’d overheard his conversation a few nights before?
Her father dropped his arms and took a step back. “The older I get, the more I realize what is truly important to me.”
She bit her lower lip before she hesitantly asked, “Are you in some sort of trouble?”
He looked at her in surprise. “Why do you ask?”
This was it. She could tell him the truth about what she overheard or she could keep quiet as Caleb had instructed her to do.
As she debated about what she should do, her mother stepped into the room and said, “There you are, Child. I have been looking everywhere for you.” Her eyes roamed over the room. “Dear heavens, why are there so many books on the ground?”
Her father had the decency to look ashamed. “I was looking for a specific book, but I have yet to find it.”
“Perhaps I can help?” her mother asked.
“No one can help me, I’m afraid,” her father remarked dejectedly. “I worry that the book is lost to me.”
“All is not lost. We can always send a servant to fetch you a new one,” her mother suggested. “What is the title of the book?”
Her father dropped down onto the settee. “If only it was that simple,” he said. “This book was special.”
“I had not taken you to be so sentimental about books.”
He took his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “What is it that you want, Elizabeth?” he asked. “I’m very busy at the moment.”
Her mother placed a hand on Anette’s sleeve. “I have come to collect our daughter. We need to be available for our callers.”
“Do I have to go?” Anette asked.
“Of course,” her mother replied. “It would be unfathomably rude to not greet our guests promptly as they arrive.”
“No one comes to visit me,” Anette said.
“That isn’t true. Your friends come visit you and they are truly a delight.”
Anette recognized that her mother did have a point. “We may adjourn to the drawing room, but do I have to work on needlework?”
“Busy hands keep the mind at bay.”
“Yes, because I wouldn’t wish to think too much,” Anette joked. “All that thinking is not good for a lady.”
Her mother sighed. “You just need to find a husband that appreciates your quick wit.”
“I daresay that there is no such gentleman.” Although, she knew that wasn’t true. Roswell had always seemed to appreciate that she spoke her mind around him. He had never once chastised her for her remarks.
“What if we arranged a marriage for you?” her father asked.
