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She blew out a breath—already tired of gauging every action to see if it would stand up to the ton’s scrutiny. It had always been there, but suddenly it was critical she get it right.

“Come.” Her father’s voice was soft and kind. It only made her heart hurt more. How could such a man come to such financial straits?

Her father and Mr. Baxter, his steward, looked up as she entered. She felt the weight of their stares.

Her father looked exhausted, and Mr. Baxter little better.

“Ah, Phoebe, we were just speaking of you,” her father said, his smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “How was your shopping trip?” She thought his face clouded over. But it was gone so quickly, she couldn’t be certain.

“It went well enough. I only found a few ribbons to purchase.”

She did not imagine the look of relief on his face. “Capital,” was all he said.

Pippy looked at Mr. Baxter. He studied her intently.

Had she been called there to explain the finances? She wasn’t certain how she felt about being kept in the dark for so long. But he surely had a good reason.

Her father picked up a paper off his desk. “Your aunt has written and asked for your help with their children. Their governess has been called home, and they do not wish the children to roam wild until she returns. As you have no other commitments...”

“When?” Pippy’s brow furrowed. Go to Scotland? As a governess?

“She begs you leave as soon as we can make the preparations.”

“But we’ll be apart for Christmastide.” Did that not cause him any pause?

Her father reached across the desk and handed her the letter. “It can’t be helped. Your aunt is in great need. You cannot dismiss her pleas.”

She looked from her aunt’s neat handwriting to her father. “Perhaps it would be best if I stayed with you. We’ve never been apart at Christmastide,” she emphasized it, in case he’d not heard her before. Why did she feel as though he were sending her away?

His bushy, silver-streaked brows nearly touched at the point between his eyes. “You need not coddle me, my dear. I’ll be well enough.”

She swallowed. But would she?

“I think it would be beneficial for you to go.”

For whom? Was this to give her a taste of what her life was to become?

“You might even meet other young ladies and gentlemen.” He waggled his brows at her.

And how was that to happen? It’s not as if a governess attended the holiday festivities.

Pippy twisted at her fingers. Had he given up on her finding a husband? She’d barely even tried, but he wasn’t wrong to worry. Once their circumstances spread through the ton, there wouldn’t be many suitable gentlemen who’d want her—only those desperate for her dowry.

He must have his reasons for wanting to send her away so quickly. Her absence would save money on food. He’d be able to subsist on simpler meals without having to explain why there was no meat.

Maybe she should tell him she knew…everything. Would he let her stay with him then?

She dropped into the chair behind her. Did she know everything? Good Heavens. What if it was worse than she thought?

She looked up at his kind—albeit proud—face and couldn’t bring herself to mention it. “If that’s what you wish, Papa.” She could not muster any excitement. “When shall I leave?”

He relaxed back into his chair. “I’ll write and tell her you’ll depart Monday next before dawn.” Was that regret she heard in his voice? Did he not even want her around for a mere week?

Goodness, she hated feeling like a burden.

“I’ve already accepted the invitation to a ball at Lord Murphy’s on Saturday. It would be impolite to cancel now.” He tapped his thumb on the desktop.

She couldn’t tell what look had just passed his features.