“We’re aware that Tommy will have a difficult time with his peers, if he enters college too young. The teasing began long ago from those his age, because his thinking is more adult in nature than childlike. He will probably work with our father for a few years, then enter college at the appropriate age—at least that was . . .”

She couldn’t finish, having touched on the probability again that her father wouldn’t be there in the future. Nor had she even thought yet what his continued absence was going to do to his business.

The shipping company wouldn’t be turned over to her for disposal until he was officially declared dead, yet in the meantime it would fail, so there would be nothing left to turn over. She couldn’t run it herself, didn’t have the necessary knowledge to do so. Thomas was too young yet to take over. And the clerk who had been left in charge couldn’t continue indefinitely either, making decisions that were beyond his capabilities.

“That was the plan?” the baron guessed, unwilling to leave the subject alone. “Before what?”

“Before these rumors started, that my father isn’t going to return.”

There was a moment of silence as her eyes glistened with unshed tears which he couldn’t help but notice. “You think he’s dead, don’t you?”

“No!”

Too much emphasis. Too much despair. An obvious lie which he ignored.

“There are countless reasons that could have detained him, none of which include any dire circumstances,” he told her. “You have been inconvenienced by the delay, but there is no reason to think it is anything other than a delay.”

The word he’d chosen, “inconvenienced,” almost brought forward a bitter laugh from her. Was that how he viewed an eviction, as no more than an inconvenience to the tenant? Yet she did realize that he was trying to bolster her hope, which she had finally abandoned. She just wished she could borrow some of his optimism, but it didn’t work. Her own had sustained her this long, but was now gone.

She couldn’t talk to him anymore. The lump in her throat was all but choking her. But there was nothing more to say. She’d already answered his reason for detaining her, that and more.

And then she looked at him. A mistake. She should have walked out while she still had some of her wits about her. She might have been able to manage a few words in parting at the door. But looking at him, she saw the concern in his golden eyes that he probably didn’t realize was there, and burst into tears. Impossible to stop. Impossible to control.

It was too far from the window to the door. She didn’t make it before his hand was on her shoulder, stopping her, then his arms were gathering her close.