I had to take ownership of my actions in order to move forwards from this. It might even end up being a good thing, having this taken out of my hands. Surely twenty-four hours was enough for Daddy to calm down enough to speak to me—if it wasn’t, then, well. It was tough, wasn’t it? I was going to apologise, and he was going to listen to me whether he liked it or not.

I kicked off my shoes and left my gloves resting on top of them and went in search of him. He wasn’t in the living room, study, or kitchen, so I stopped one of the housemaids and asked if she knew where he was.

“He’s in the library, miss,” she replied, inclining her head before she took her leave and scurried off up the stairs.

“Thank you!” I called after her before I turned in the direction of the wing that held the library. I made it there in a couple of minutes, and I really should have had water before I hurried because I was a little out of breath when I got there.

I had to get fit.

The double doors were heavy oak, but the right one was ajar, and I pushed against it gently. My father was sitting on the sofa where he had been yesterday when we’d had our conversation, but instead of a paper, he held a ratty, well-loved paperback in his hands, and he had his feet up on the coffee table.

The audacity.

“Hey, if you have your feet on the coffee table, does that mean I can, too?”

He jolted as if he’d been hit by lightning, shoving his feet to the floor. Glancing over his shoulder, he almost looked as if he expected to be caught by someone other than me.

He grunted. “Your mother used to say the same thing.”

“Hardly an answer,” I replied, making my way inside. “At least you aren’t wearing your shoes, I suppose.”

“She used to say that, too.” He returned his attention to his book. “You’re her bloody mini me.”

I smiled at that. I knew that much. I always had been. “It’s nice to keep traditions alive.”

“Is there a reason you’re here interrupting my reading time, Gabriella?”

“Yes. I’d like to talk to you.”

“I’m afraid it’ll be a terribly one-sided conversation as I don’t have much I’d like to say to you in the present moment.”

“Fine, then you can listen to me.” I stood in front of the armchair that faced him and clasped my hands in front of my stomach. When he didn’t dismiss me, I started talking. “I’m sorry I kept my course a secret from you. I never intended it to be that way for this long. I wasn’t even sure I’d enjoy it when I started, so I kept it to myself originally in case I dropped out, but as time went on, it got harder and harder to tell you.”