Octavia’s expression turned to one of exasperation. “You have no proof of that, and he spoke very highly of Fredrick.”
“Why can’t you even consider the possibility that he was lying?” Roswell asked.
“I choose to believe the best in people. Why can’t you?”
“Because I live in the real world, where people have nefarious intentions,” he said, his voice rising.
Mrs. Harper snorted and her eyes flew open. “Good heavens, did I fall asleep again?” she asked, wiping a hand over her mouth.
“You did, but no harm done,” Octavia responded. “I just had a lovely chat with Mr. Barnard over a cup of tea.”
“He did seem quite charming,” Mrs. Harper responded with a smile.
Octavia gave him a smug smile, as if her companion’s words were further proof that she was in the right. Which she wasn’t.
Rising, Roswell said, “I will speak to Father about this and I am sure that he will side with me.”
“Do what you want, Brother, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to you.”
“You would be wise to do so.”
Octavia returned her teacup to the tray and stood up. “I need to go lie down. My allowance for stupidity has been reached for the day.”
Roswell’s jaw tightened as his sister walked away, unable to comprehend why she couldn't be reasonable. She wanted proof, but all he had to rely on was his intuition. And that was hardly wrong. Yet he couldn’t explain that to her. If he tried, it would lead to questions that he couldn’t answer; he wouldn’t answer.
Anette emerged from her bedchamber after taking a nap. It had taken her a long time to fall asleep because she couldn’t seem to calm her racing thoughts. No matter how hard she tried to banish Roswell from her mind, he was always there, reminding her of what could have been.
As she descended the stairs, a knock at the door reverberated throughout the main floor. Barrow crossed the entry hall and opened the door, revealing Roswell.
Her heart leaped at the mere sight of him and she wondered if she would always have this reaction when she saw him. She hoped not. It would be much easier if her heart would obey her commands.
Roswell stepped into the entry hall and his eyes landed on her. “Miss Bolingbroke,” he greeted with a slight bow.
“Lord Roswell,” she acknowledged as she stepped down from the last stair and onto the marble floor of the entry hall.
She could tell something was amiss by the tension in Roswell's demeanor. He was not one to carry his emotions on his sleeve, but she had made it a point of learning everything that she could about him. She knew his likes, his dislikes, and what it took to put a smile on his face.
Coming to a stop a short distance away, she asked, “What is wrong?”
He smiled, but it was hardly convincing. “Nothing is wrong,” he attempted.
“I don’t believe you,” she replied. Why was she being so bold? Everyone was entitled to their own secrets, but she felt compelled to press him. “Something is clearly bothering you.”
“It is nothing.”
“I contend it is something or else you wouldn’t be so affected by it.”
Roswell glanced over his shoulder at Barrow and said, “Perhaps we could speak somewhere in private.”
“We could speak in the drawing room,” she suggested.
“Very well,” Roswell said, gesturing towards the door. “After you, Miss.”
Anette went into the drawing room, stopping once she arrived in the center of the room, and spun back around.
Roswell had followed her in, but he was maintaining a proper distance. Since he was a family friend, no one would fault her for speaking to him in private, assuming neither one of them was too familiar with one another.
With an arched brow, Anette asked, “What is bothering you?”
