Now the Frenchman’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “And?”
“Lord Oxley has agreed to leave a message for his contact to inform him that he needs to speak to him. When the person shows, we will be able to determine who he is working for,” Roswell explained.
“I would like to be present.”
“Why?” Roswell asked. “Do you not think we are capable of such a task?”
“It is not that. I just have a particular skill set at getting people to talk,” Mr. Barnard replied. “Wellington taught me how.”
Roswell wasn’t quite sure what to think about Mr. Barnard’s request. He didn’t know if he would be a hindrance or be a help. “I will have to run this by Caleb.”
“I assumed as much.”
When Mr. Barnard didn’t move to leave, he asked, “Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”
“I was hoping to get a look at that book.”
“That is impossible,” Roswell replied. “I gave it to Kendrick for safekeeping.”
Mr. Barnard’s expression became unreadable. “Do you think that is wise?” he half-asked, half-demanded.
Roswell gave him a curious look. “Why wouldn’t it be? He is the spymaster, after all.”
“I just don’t know who to trust right now.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
With a nod, Mr. Barnard opened the door and stepped out. It was only after he heard the main door shut that he saw his sister appear in the doorway.
Octavia raised her brow. “What did Mr. Barnard wish to speak to you about?”
“Nothing in particular,” he lied.
She hesitated before asking, “He wasn’t asking permission to court me, was he?”
“Heavens, no!” he shouted. “Besides, he wouldn’t have asked me; he would have asked Father for permission.”
Octavia let out a sigh of relief. “Thank heavens,” she said. “Mr. Barnard is a nice enough man but I have no intention of letting him pursue me. I just enjoy hearing about how Fredrick is doing.”
Roswell was happy to hear this, but he didn’t want to let on how pleased he truly was. He no more wanted Mr. Barnard as his brother-in-law than a thorn in his boot.
“I am going to see if Mother is still awake,” Octavia said. “Would you care to join me?”
With a glance at the long clock in the corner, Roswell replied, “I would be happy to.”
“Good, because we can discuss how I want a pet pig for my birthday,” Octavia said as she departed from the study.
Roswell looked heavenward. Hadn’t his sister learned her lesson by owning Freddy?
ChapterSeventeen
Anette paced the length of her bedchamber as she waited for her lady’s maid to help dress her for bed. She was still upset that her family- and Roswell- were keeping secrets from her. Why didn’t they trust her enough to tell her the truth? Did they think so little of her?
She was so tired of all the secrets. It never escaped her notice how Caleb and Roswell spoke in hushed tones to one another. And her father? He was the worst culprit. Someone was threatening him, by harming her, and still he wouldn’t tell her the reasons behind it. He just wanted her to follow his rules blindly.
It was not fair that she was born a woman. They were treated like delicate creatures and everyone was afraid to upset them.
A knock came at the door before it was pushed open. “Good evening,” Violet greeted. “A letter arrived for you.”
