“I know, but it is far easier to pretend that all is well than face the truth about Mother’s condition.”
“Octavia…”
She slipped her hand out from under his. “You need not worry about me.”
“I always will since you are my favorite sister.”
“I am your only sister,” she responded.
“That hardly changes things, at least for me.”
That made her give a tiny, barely visible smile but he counted it as a victory. “You aren’t awful at cheering me up,” she said.
“It is my life’s work to do so.”
“At least until you find yourself a wife.”
Roswell shuddered. “Let’s hope that is not anytime soon.”
Octavia laughed, just as he had intended. “I always did think you were going to marry Anette by the way you used to smile around her.”
“I smiled no differently.”
“You did,” she replied. “You smiled deeper, as if you couldn’t contain your happiness.”
Roswell grew somber. “I think you were mistaken,” he lied. He always enjoyed being around Anette but he hadn’t realized his sister had noticed that fact.
“Perhaps, but I do miss seeing Anette,” Octavia said. “She could always make me laugh.”
As her words left her mouth, Mrs. Harper shuffled into the room, her white hair pulled back into a tight chignon at the base of her neck. “Good morning, my lady.” She met his gaze. “My lord.”
“Good morning,” he responded. “How are you faring this morning?”
“My bones are creaking,” Mrs. Harper replied.
“Your bones?”
Mrs. Harper nodded. “Yes, my bones. They are making quite the racket.”
“I am sorry,” he said, unsure of what he could say to that.
The companion came and sat down across from them and addressed Octavia. “I had your needlework brought to the parlor. I thought we might try to sit somewhere new today.”
“Wonderful, now I have something to look forward to,” Octavia muttered.
“What?” Mrs. Harper asked, putting a hand up to her ear. “I’m afraid I didn’t hear you. Would you mind speaking up?”
Octavia exchanged a look with Roswell before she raised her voice. “I am looking forward to that.”
Mrs. Harper beamed. “Indeed. What fun we shall have today.”
Roswell couldn’t help but feel bad for his sister, but he wasn’t in a position to help her. He had a meeting with the spymaster, and he couldn’t be late.
ChapterThree
Roswell walked down the pavement as the smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air. He stopped at the bakery shop and stepped inside. He noted one other customer was in line to be served. He browsed the many delicious treats that were available for purchase while he waited.
Once the other customer had departed from the shop with her purchases, the white-haired woman asked from behind the counter, “What can I get you, sir?”
