“You never told us that you met with a Frenchman,” Caleb pointed out. “In fact, you lied to me when I asked you about it.”
“What would that have accomplished? Most likely, you would have gone after him and gotten yourself killed,” Lord Oxley said. “Don’t you see that I am trying to protect you, too?”
Caleb grew determined. “I don’t need your protection. Quite frankly, the only reason you are still alive is because of me.”
Lord Oxley rose from his desk and walked over to the window. As he stared out towards the gardens, he asked, “Dare I presume that you have my book?”
Roswell felt it was best to be honest with the viscount. “I have it, but I took it from the man that broke into your study. Your loose floorboard wasn’t as secure as you had intended.”
Turning to face him, Lord Oxley inquired, “Will you give it to me?”
“No, I will not,” Roswell replied. “It is best if I keep hold of it.”
“Best for whom?” Lord Oxley questioned.
The sound of crashing glass filled the room as a large rock landed on the carpet, rolling to a stop near the camelback settee.
Roswell turned his head towards the broken window and saw shards of glass on the ground. “Be careful,” he urged.
Caleb walked over to the rock and picked it up. “There is a paper tied to the rock.” He untied the string and removed the paper. He read: “Tired of waiting. Hand over the book or your daughter will die tomorrow.”
Lord Oxley approached Caleb and snatched the paper out of his hands. “What am I to do?” he muttered before turning towards Roswell with desperation on his face. “I need that book! You must give it to me.”
“No, you need to listen,” Roswell stated. “You tried to do things on your own and you failed spectacularly. It is time we do it our way.”
Lord Oxley winced as he declared, “You don’t know what these men are capable of.”
“We have some idea,” Caleb remarked, placing the rock onto the desk.
He had just uttered his words when the door was thrown open and Lady Oxley and Anette entered the room.
Lady Oxley’s eyes strayed towards the window. “Dear heavens, what happened?” she asked. “We heard the shattering of glass from the drawing room.”
“It was nothing, dear,” Lord Oxley replied. “A bird hit the window but was able to fly off.”
“A bird broke the window?” Lady Oxley questioned, not appearing convinced.
Lord Oxley approached his wife and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Yes, but there was no harm done. You may go back to the drawing room and wait for your callers.”
Anette’s eyes held questions as she met Roswell’s gaze. It was evident that she didn’t believe her father but he had no intention of telling her the truth.
Lord Oxley’s explanation must have appeased his wife because she said, “Come along, Anette. We have much to do.”
After Lady Oxley walked out of the room, Anette pointed at the rock on the desk. “That doesn’t look much like a bird to me.”
“Anette, you are reading too much into this,” Lord Oxley attempted.
“Am I?” she asked. “I can’t seem to fathom why everyone would lie about a rock being thrown through the window. The only explanation that I can come up with is that it is a threat of some sort.”
Roswell resisted the urge to smile. Anette was far too clever for her own good, but that didn’t mean they could confide in her.
Anette met each one of their gazes, challenging them, before saying, “Will no one tell me the truth?”
Lord Oxley schooled his features. “Go after your mother, dear,” he ordered. “It is best if you left us to figure all this out.”
“Why all the secrets?” Anette asked, standing her ground. “Am I not entitled to know the truth?”
“No, you are entitled to nothing. And in doing so, I am keeping you safe from outside threats,” Lord Oxley stated.
