A Rogue No More - Lana Williams Page 0,43

her father to sell for a low price. Could they truly be tied to Mr. Smead’s murder? The notion was unsettling, but rumors swirled at how ruthless the Company could be.

“At least once a week.” Mr. Morris shook his head. “They don’t want to take no for an answer.”

“Tell them we are not interested in their paltry offer.” Her father’s anger had Annabelle drawing closer. Strong emotions often rattled him. But this was one topic he rarely forgot, nor did he change his answer.

“I will, sir.”

Her father stepped to the window that overlooked the dock, his gaze seeming to take it in. “I didn’t build this only to have them steal it from me.”

“Business has been brisk. As long as that continues, there’s no need to consider selling.”

“Selling?” Her father spun on his heel to glare at Mr. Morris, his expression fierce. “We’re not selling.”

Annabelle reached for his arm, hoping to calm him. “No, we’re not.” She raised a brow at the manager. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Morris?”

“Quite right.” The manager appeared taken aback by her father’s reaction.

“We should be on our way, Father,” she said. “Mother will wonder what is taking us so long.” Never mind that they’d only been there a few minutes.

He blinked several times as if trying to gather his thoughts. Annabelle waited a moment then gestured toward the door.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Morris. My father will return soon.”

“Always a pleasure to have you here, sir.”

Her father nodded as he allowed Annabelle to guide him to the exit.

“Good day,” Annabelle said, but her father said nothing as they left then made their way down the stairs and out the building.

He paused when they stood outside and looked about with interest. “This is a busy place. What business do we have here, Annabelle?”

Her breath caught as she studied him, the blank look in his eyes suggesting he truly didn’t know. “We were speaking with that nice man upstairs, Mr. Morris. But it’s time to go home now. Mother is waiting.” The sooner they were in the carriage the better before any of the men who’d worked for him for years realized something was wrong.

He smiled and patted her hand which held his arm. “You have a wonderful mother, and I have a wonderful wife.”

The tightness in her chest eased. At least he remembered that much.

~*~

Thomas arrived at the shipyard and hopped out of the hackney, noting a black carriage waiting nearby along with a driver and footman. Of all times for Annabelle to have accompanied her father to the shipyard, why did it have to be today, before he’d had the chance to tell her of the possible danger?

When the Gold’s butler had advised him that both Sir Reginald and Annabelle were here, his stomach had pitched. Though from what little he knew, there was no imminent threat, unease gripped him. He didn’t want to upset either of them, but he needed to tell Annabelle what he’d learned and warn her to take care.

A glance inside the carriage showed it to be empty. The driver, who waited along with a footman, raised a brow at Thomas. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Sir Reginald and his daughter are still at the dock?”

“Yes, sir.”

Thomas hurried toward the entrance, not bothering to explain his purpose to the servants.

He searched the busy scene for Annabelle, relieved to see nothing that alarmed him. Workers were going on about their business as crates and barrels piled high on carts were moved about. Long lengths of timber were loaded on wagons by men working in pairs.

Thomas caught sight of Annabelle in the distance, walking with a well-dressed, older gentleman who he knew to be her father. The tenseness in his body loosened to see them unharmed and moving in his direction. No one seemed to pay them any mind other than a few who offered friendly waves.

Yet as he watched, a worker strode directly toward them, pausing to snatch a length of iron from the ground. His intent expression and the way he swung the iron as he walked caused a sense of foreboding to prickle over Thomas.

“Miss Gold,” Thomas shouted, but the din made it impossible for her to hear him from this distance. He ran toward her, weaving through the workers and carts as he kept an eye on the approaching man.

Annabelle didn’t appear to notice either of them, her focus on her father. Couldn’t she sense the danger? Or was he just imagining it?

“Miss Gold!” Thomas tried again, his heart