that spoke of wariness and something more. That shadow made her wonder if he were truly a rogue or merely doing what others expected of him. It always came back to motive.
If he knew her thoughts, he’d be appalled.
Her questions about who he was didn’t matter because she had no intention of becoming further involved with Thomas. She’d bring him the manuscript and avoid contact for a time. The only way she could reach her goals was by keeping her life free from further entanglements. She had enough to worry about with her family.
Annabelle set aside her pen and closed her inkwell then exited her bedchamber, her stomach growling with hunger as she descended the stairs to the dining room for the mid-day meal. Her mother and father were taking their seats, and she turned to see Margaret behind her.
“Good day.” She kissed her mother’s offered cheek.
“And to you, dear.” Her mother patted the hand Annabelle placed on her shoulder. “How does the day find you?”
“Excellent. I finished the final copy of my book.”
She kissed her father’s cheek as well, though he seemed unaware of her presence. His gaze was fixed in the distance, and he didn’t return her greeting.
Annabelle didn’t know what was worse, seeing that blank look or the terrible confusion that suggested he didn’t know where he was. She missed the previous version of her father when he’d been engaged and interested in his daughters. But they continued to do what they could to involve him. Margaret walked with him most mornings, always careful to take the same path every day. She thought keeping to a routine aided him. Annabelle read to him often, sometimes from her own work.
But wishing wouldn’t bring him back. All they could do was make the best of what life had given them. That didn’t stop her heart from hurting as she squeezed his shoulder before taking her seat at the table.
It was still odd to have their father join them for luncheon, a light fare usually comprised of bread, meat, cheese, and fruit. In the past, his midday meal—often a bird and a bottle or a pasty—had been eaten at a tavern or coffee-house near the shipyard.
“That’s wonderful.” Her mother studied her husband for a moment before returning her attention to Annabelle. “You said the same publisher is going to print this one?”
“Yes.” She didn’t explain that while some publishers had their own printing presses, Artemis hired a printer for the work. The disadvantage was that they had to wait until the printer had room in their schedule to print the book. “The editor is quite excited about it.” She deliberately avoided mentioning who that editor was. Her mother would not be pleased.
“Didn’t the Earl of Carlington own the publishing company?” Margaret asked as she took her seat.
“Yes.” Annabelle cast her sister a pointed look, hoping she’d drop the subject and refrain from asking further questions.
Lady Gold frowned. “But he passed away several months ago, didn’t he?” As the question left her lips, she realized her mistake and watched her husband with worry.
“Carlington died?” Sir Reginald studied each of them in turn.
They collectively held their breath. They never knew what might upset him. The fact that he’d acknowledged news of the death was concerning. Often they spoke around him as he rarely joined the conversation even if directly spoken to.
“Yes. He died in his sleep.” Her mother continued to watch him for a reaction.
“He was a nice enough man. Had three sons while I have three daughters. We used to laugh over that.”
Annabelle shared a relieved look with her mother.
“The youngest one was a bounder,” her father continued. “Caused his father one problem after another. What was his name?”
“Thomas,” Annabelle supplied. She didn’t wish to discuss him though the urge to defend him had her biting her lip. A bounder? In her mind, he was nothing of the sort.
To her relief, Barclay, their elderly butler, entered the dining room with a tray and took her father’s attention. Barclay had served the family for as long as Annabelle could remember. His loyalty had been proven time and again during the last few years. He’d refused his wages for a time when money was especially tight and done more than his share of duties, as had the rest of the few servants they employed.
Thankfully, the worst of their financial woes were behind them with Caroline’s marriage to Aberland though they still lived modestly. Which was all the more reason it was important for