“Charlotte, your father is asking that you join him in the parlor,” Meghan said from Charlotte’s doorway.
It was shortly before ten o’clock in the morning.
Charlotte had enjoyed precious little sleep upon her return from Epping, and had been dressed for nearly two hours now. She had not left her room, taking a morning cup of coffee at her writing table, for fear of having to endure a barrage of consternation from Lady Epping.
She had looked up as Meghan had brushed her knuckles lightly against her door, and blinked, puzzled, as the housekeeper spoke.
“Is my mother with him?” she asked.
Meghan shook her head. “No,” she said. “Lady Epping is still in her chamber. She has not even called for tea yet this morning.”
“Oh,” Charlotte said, visibly relieved. She rose and paused, her expression troubled again. “What does he want, Meghan? Did he say?”
All at once, she worried that a night spent rethinking matters had left her out of her father’s favor. Suppose Lord Epping had changed his mind, and meant for her to marry James? She must have looked wide-eyed with trepidation, because Meghan smiled kindly at her in reassurance from the doorway.
“He did not say,” she said. “But Mr. Linford, the sheriff pays call from Epping, and they have taken coffee together in the parlor. I am sure Mr. Linford would like to discuss your robbery.”