Page 41 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

“Quite often,” Augusta said. “Sometimes he says the wrong thing, and sometimes I say something sharp in return, and then we both pretend we meant the conversation to become an argument.”

“Do you fight?”

“We disagree,” Augusta replied. “Your father would probably call it a discussion, although that is only his way of making it sound more dignified.”

Sarah’s mouth curved again.

“Does he get angry with you?”

“Sometimes,” Augusta said. “I also get angry with him, although neither of us runs away from the conversation, and that is important.”

Sarah looked towards the door once more.

“I do not get angry with Father,” she said.

“Never?”

Sarah shook her head.

“Not even when he walks past the schoolroom?” Augusta asked.

The child’s eyes filled with conflict.

“I am not meant to be angry with him,” she said.

“You are allowed to feel angry,” Augusta replied. “You do not have to behave cruelly, and you should not say things only to hurt him, although feelings do not become wicked merely because they are uncomfortable.”

Sarah looked down at the book again.

“I was angry when he did not come to my birthday tea,” she admitted. “The housekeeper said he had work, and she said he would see me later, although he did not come until the next morning.”

Augusta felt her chest tighten.

“Did you tell him that you had waited?”

“No,” Sarah replied. “He gave me a necklace, and he asked whether I liked it.”

“Did you?”

“It is pretty,” Sarah said. “It has a little pearl.”

“That was not quite what I asked,” Augusta replied gently.

Sarah was silent for a moment.

“I wanted him to come to the tea,” she said.

Augusta moved from the chair to the settee, although she left a small space between them, and Sarah did not move away.

“I think your father believed the necklace would tell you that he had remembered,” Augusta said. “He is accustomed to solving problems by providing what is needed, and he does not always understand that people sometimes need his time more than they need a gift.”

Sarah picked at the ribbon holding the damaged page together.

“Does he not want to spend time with me?” she asked.

The question struck Augusta with such quiet force that she had to choose her answer carefully.

“I think he does,” Augusta said. “I also think he is frightened of doing it badly, and when people are frightened of disappointing someone, they sometimes remain distant and tell themselves that distance is kinder than failure.”