After Anette swallowed her bite of food, she said, “Fredrick would love to help you.”
“I would?” Fredrick asked.
Anette gave him a smile that held a hint of knowing satisfaction. “It is only fair that if I help you with Miss Sutherland that you help Roswell find my brother. Don’t you think?”
Fredrick had to admit that Anette was rather clever. He suspected that she would help him with Miss Sutherland regardless, but she was using it to her advantage. And he didn’t fault her for that. He probably would do the same thing.
“Anette is right. I am happy to help,” Fredrick said.
Roswell clasped his hands together. “Wonderful,” he responded. “I shall take you up on it soon enough.”
Fredrick glanced up at the ceiling. “Have you visited Mother this morning?” he asked.
With a solemn look, Roswell replied, “I did, and she is not quite with us. She has reverted to when she was a debutante and was worried about her coming out ball.”
“Has she asked about Octavia yet?” Fredrick asked.
“She did once, but that was only because she wanted another bag of dry sweetmeats,” Roswell shared.
Fredrick sighed. “I can pick up a bag at Gunter’s when I am out today.”
“She would greatly appreciate that,” Roswell said.
Anette wiped the sides of her mouth with her napkin and placed it down onto her plate. “I am ready to go visit Miss Sutherland. I do hope she isn’t a bore.”
“I can assure you that she is not a bore,” Fredrick said.
Roswell rose and assisted his wife in rising. “I wish you luck, my dear. I will be home for supper.”
“You better,” Anette said in a serious tone but there was a lightheartedness to it.
“Will you miss me?” Roswell asked as he leaned closer to his wife.
“I most definitely will, my love biscuit,” she gushed.
Fredrick worked hard not to roll his eyes at Anette’s term of endearment for Roswell. He thought it would be best for them- and him- if he left them alone to say their goodbyes.
As he departed from the dining room, he found himself contemplating whether Miss Sutherland would be pleased to see him, although it held little significance either way. He simply harbored a hopeful wish that she did.
Chapter Four
Emilia sat in the drawing room as she worked on her needlework. It was soothing and familiar. Something she needed to be reminded of right now.
She pulled the needle through the fabric as she let out a sigh. Mrs. Harvey had recommended that she retire to the drawing room so she could welcome any callers that she might have. Not that she expected any. No one knew who she was. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Lord Chatsworth knew of her and had promised to call. But what if he had changed his mind, especially if he had read the newssheets this morning?
Emilia was in the most awkward of situations and she had no idea what she should be doing. Why was she even in the drawing room? It hardly mattered where she sat in this grand townhouse. No matter where she sat, it confirmed the one thing that she already knew- she didn’t belong in this life.
What if she just retired to her country estate and lived out her days in peace? Would she disappoint her father’s memory if she did just that? Surely he didn’t think she could ever fit into high Society.
Just one look at her simple green gown would confirm that. It was made from a sturdy cotton material and did little to flatter her figure. Which was intentional. Why would a teacher at a boarding school need to attract the attention of a suitor?
Dalby stepped into the room and announced, “Lord Chatsworth and his sister-in-law, Lady Roswell, have come to call. Shall I show them in?”
“They are here?” she asked.
“Yes, Miss,” Dalby confirmed.
Emilia lowered her needlework to her lap and tilted her chin. “Please show my guests in,” she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.
