She exhaled when Doyle opened the door.
“My lady.” He took her coat and seemed about to say something, but he closed his mouth.
She sniffed the air. The smell of kippers and freshly baked bread coming from the dining room was missing.
“Is my father up?”
“He is, my lady.” He sounded strained. “But he didn’t have breakfast. In fact, His Lordship didn’t sleep much.”
She stiffened. He had to be furious with her. He must have waited for her all night, worried about her. Truth was the best choice, then. She would deal with the consequences of his wrath. Besides, she’d told Tristan she would be with him against the world, and she would keep her promise.
“His Lordship is in his study, my lady,” Doyle said before going down the corridor.
The last time she’d been so worried about seeing Papa had been when she was thirteen and had saved a fox from being killed by him during a hunting party. She’d told him he was a barbarian, and he’d told her she was a spoilt girl. Then he’d apologised and promised her he would never hunt foxes again. She doubted their current argument would end so well.
Loud voices came from the study. Maids ran from one corner of the corridor to the other, whispering.
She stopped one of them. “What happened?”
“Something serious, my lady. His Lordship is quite preoccupied.”
Effie paused before approaching the study, her hands clammy.
“How did this happen?” Papa asked.
“It’s not that difficult, only a matter of money.” That was Lowe.
They talked over each other, and she didn’t understand what they were discussing although the situation seemed a repeat of what had happened weeks ago.
“…damn Montcrest.” The thud of a fist against the desk came.
Tristan? She was about to knock on the door when it was flung open.
Papa came out and stopped in front of her. His hair was unkempt, and stubble darkened his chin.
He gave her a long glance, narrowing his eyes. “You were with him, weren’t you?”
“What is going on? Why didn’t you sleep?”
“It’s him. Montcrest.” He breathed hard. “He’s started trying to destroy me again. He’s taking over everything, hiding behind anonymous buyers. Someone says Lord Vaughan is helping him.”
She regained her composure, feeling guilty she was relieved Papa’s wrath wasn’t directed at her. “No, it’s not possible. Tristan is innocent, and I’m sure Lord Vaughan is, too.”
Lowe exited the study, carrying a leather bag under his arm. He looked like he’d spent the night up, too. “We’re ready, my lord.”
“I’ll be ready in a minute.” Papa waited for Lowe to leave. “Tell me the truth.”
She tilted her chin up. So be it. “He was sick, and I wanted to help him. And that’s all. Nothing untoward happened, and I’m absolutely sure he isn’t attacking you.”
“Nothing untoward—” He fell silent and squeezed a fist. “If I weren’t so worried about the disaster happening to us, we would have another conversation. You truly disappointed me.”
Not this again.
“I’m telling the truth. Nothing happened, and Tristan isn’t attacking you.”
“How can you be so sure?” He raised his voice.
“Because he gave me his word.”
