“Tell him,” Anabelle said softly. “Like you would tell the man you love.”
Her words shivered down Elizabeth’s spine. What if she were in Anabelle’s place? She would do anything to tell Rourke. For all her righteous indignation that Anabelle would get herself with child, the fact was that these things happened. Mother’s diary had spelled that out often enough. Perhaps she might persuade Father to purchase the father of Anabelle’s child if it came to that. They had not been home a full month. If this man lived in town, Anabelle could not be certain yet that she was with child. This might all work out on its own.
“I will do what I can,” Elizabeth promised.
After Anabelle dressed her, Elizabeth tucked the note for Tom into the watch pocket of her dress and headed downstairs to see Father. First she would ensure he had no intention of sending Anabelle away, then she would deliver the message to Tom.
Fortunately, Father had not yet left for court. She knocked on the open door of his study.
Upon seeing her, he gathered up the papers he’d been reading and put them in his valise. “What is troubling you, sunshine? I must leave for the office.”
She smiled at the nickname, but her request was not trifling. “Aunt Virginia might not realize my bedroom is directly above the dining room.”
He closed the door behind her. “Likely not, or she would lower her voice.” He returned to his desk. “Did something she said concern you?”
“My aunt has an unfounded dislike of Anabelle. Though she does nothing wrong, Aunt insists I punish her. I see no reason to do so.”
Father heaved a sigh. He looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept well in days. “Don’t worry what your aunt thinks.”
“I knew you would understand. You know how close Anabelle and I were growing up.”
His brow hitched. “It’s never wise to befriend the servants. Remember that you are their mistress. Too much familiarity leads to disrespect.”
“But Mother treated them with kindness and garnered their respect.”
“Your mother had unique capabilities born from her good breeding.”
“And I don’t?” The implication stung.
He smiled, but it looked forced. “You are your mother’s daughter, true. Yet you would do better to avoid getting too involved in the servants’ personal lives.”
Her mouth grew dry. Had he heard Anabelle? Did he know the awful situation she found herself in? If so, then the question Elizabeth must ask would not seem peculiar.
“You would not sell her, then?” She held her breath.
His gaze narrowed. “What has your aunt said that led you to think that?”
Aunt Virginia offered a convenient scapegoat, but placing the blame on her would not be the truth. “You sent Mammy away.”
“You no longer needed a nurse.”
“But Charlie did.”
Father’s expression grew grave. “You are asking about things that are not your concern.”
She would not give up that easily. “If I am to manage the servants, I must know when a servant needs to go.”
He nodded slowly. “There are many reasons, but the chief one is usually financial. It costs a great deal to house and feed servants.”
“Then there is no need to sell Anabelle?”
“You ask a difficult question.” He sighed. “I did not want to worry you, but if our circumstances grow any more severe, I might need to sell a great deal of my property.”
A chill swept over her. “But Anabelle is more than a servant. She’s a member of our household.”
“In hard times, servants must be let go. So too horses and carriages and fancy ball gowns.”
She blanched. “Are we in hard times?”
“Rebuilding the house cost a great deal. Your brother’s care is costly. He requires the regular attention of physicians as well as medicines for the pain. I have searched the country to find something that will give him a measure of independence. The wheeled chair is the best I’ve found thus far, but I will not stop until I find something that he can operate without assistance. In short, our savings are depleted.”
“Everything?” Elizabeth could barely draw a breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“A girl your age should be dreaming of beaus and balls, not suffer the burdens that her father ought to bear.”
Tears stung her eyelids. She had misjudged him so badly. Perhaps she had even misread the diary. Her father was simply trying to do the best he could with what he had.
“But I do want to help.” She grasped his hand. “That’s why I came home. I don’t need a new ball gown. I will ask Mrs. Evanston to find another buyer.”
“No, my dear. That is the one thing you need most of all. Don’t you see? You are my shining hope. Your marriage will not only bring healing and hope to this family, but it will secure your brother’s future.”