Her father frowned in confusion. “It was always highly frustrating to debate with your mother, and I see that you have inherited the devilish trait.”
Gwen waved a hand. “It is what Chaucer meant when he wrote the line, is it not?”
“Gwendolyn, I am not the gifted scholar you are. I have no notion what you are referring to. Are you trying to be clever?”
She sighed in defeat. Being pedantic about language was not going to dissuade her father from wanting to converse. “Chaucer was referring to noontide, not the cycles of the sea. I was merely stating I would confront this muddle in the morning—at noon, perhaps.”
Her father huffed in a half chuckle. “I see … that is an amusing rebuttal, given the circumstances.”
“Yet it did not work.”
Her father smiled, revealing his teeth once more. “I am afraid not, child. It is imperative we speak.”
Papa held out a hand palm up to indicate the hall leadingto the main staircase.
“I will not run into Aidan.”
“No, I swear it. Not until you are ready.”
Gwen stepped out into the hall, leaving the door open for Octavia, and linked her arm through her father’s. “Well, then, lead the way.”
Despite her father’s assurances, Gwen looked about nervously as they walked down the hall and descended the stairs, expecting Aidan to appear any moment. Her husband had a habit of appearing unexpectedly, but she did not wish to see him.
On the main floor, they walked toward the study, and Gwen noticed that the door to the small drawing room was shut. Was Aidan in there, she wondered.
Reaching the study, Gwen dropped into a plump armchair by the fireplace while Papa sat in the matching chair. The hearth was empty, but it was still the most comfortable place to sit and talk together, rather than sit across the expanse of her father’s desk.
Her father tapped his trouser-covered leg as if considering his words.
“This has been quite a whirlwind of events these past weeks.”
Last month she had woken from severe illness to discover that she lived yet. Then she had re-evaluated her life and decided on her plan to adopt a foundling into their home because she wanted a child of her own more than anything. One did not get a second chance at life and waste it.
But, then, unexpectedly, she had been gazing on the most beautiful night imaginable only to have a god of a man recite poetry from the shadows before finding herself wrapped in his arms and enjoying her very first kiss. Followed by a scandal, a rushed marriage, and the discovery that her husband was an insincere liar pursuing family vengeance.
So Gwen nodded in agreement.
“I have spoken to your husband at length, and we have resolved our misunderstanding.”
“Be that as it may, that does not alter the fact of his dishonesty with me.”
Her father wet his lips. “I think it does. Aidan is a man in the midst of a family crisis. His sister was brutally attacked by a servant just weeks ago, and he tells me she is still in danger. He was desperate to solve a murder, and he erroneously selected me as the culprit.” Papa leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees to turn his eyes on Gwen. “Here is the thing, though. I had secrets of my own I was hiding, which entangled this misunderstanding. Honesty from me would have prevented some of what happened.”
“Are you referring to the sold art and property?”
“I am. My plan is to move into business. My income was not increasing, and I found an opportunity to diversify into far more lucrative ventures.”
“The shipping company.”
Her father frowned, slumping back into his chair in surprise. “You knew?”
Gwen nodded. “After you sold the property up north, I needed to make sure you had not taken leave of your senses.”
“How did you work it out?”
Gwen gestured to the desk. “I pried through your office and found the notebook in the bottom drawer. You had written details about the ships—load capacities, the dates of their journeys, information about the captains and officers. I concluded you were considering them for purchase.”
Papa shook his head, befuddled by her confession. “Yet you said nothing?”
