Page 22 of Once Upon an Enchanted Castle

“In the morning. That will give me tonight to make arrangements and pack a bag.” He leaned towards her, reaching once again for her hand. “I do hope you understand, dearest.”

She gave him a reassuring smile. “Of course, I do, Father.”

It was their livelihood at stake, after all, not to mention his reputation as a reliable trader. She was aware rivals might seize the opportunity to undermine him. She understood there was an enormous amount of pressure on him in the aftermath of this disaster.

“I hate to leave you, but—”

“Do not worry for us here, Father. All will be well,” she said, quickly cutting him off and giving him her best supportive smile. She sounded far more confident than she felt.

He blew out a breath of relief. “My dear daughter, you are intelligent and brave like your mother, may she rest in peace. I’m so grateful to have you.” He pushed from the table and rose, the chair scraping along the wood floor. “Ask Gerald to bring supper to my room, will you?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

He left her alone in the dining room with her whirling thoughts. She was distraught about the ships and the crew. But she knew they had enough money in their accounts to last a few months. She would speak to the staff and make sure they were aware of their situation and ask them to be mindful of their spending. At least until things settled with her father and the business. A merchant without a fleet of ships was like a sailor without the sea—adrift, useless, and destined to drown.

A cold knot twisted in her gut at the thought.

Not just financial ruin, but his reputation, his pride, and everything he’d built.

Before long, they’d need money to survive. But perhaps there was hope yet. The only way she knew to get that money was through her translations and scribing.

She was going to see Leopold Thornhurst.

Nerves jangling like bells in her chest, Bella practically flew down the stairs. Sleep was a lost cause—if she’d managed more than an hour, it hadn’t been restful. Her body ached with exhaustion, heavy and buzzing all at once, but she shoved it aside. She didn’t have time to be tired.

As soon as her father left, she’d hurry into town to meet the carriage waiting for her. She would go to Mr. Thornhurst. No more waiting. The thought sent a sharp thrill straight through her. Her hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting. Her feet barely touched the steps.

This was happening.Today.

Her father was already in the foyer when she reached the landing—coat half-buttoned, a leather folio tucked under one arm, suitcase by his feet. He slipped on his gloves with quick, practiced movements, then settled his top hat into place. He was leaving. No hesitation. No delay.

Through the front windows, she caught a glimpse of the carriage waiting at the drive, Gerald standing nearby with the driver and footman, everything in perfect order.

Her chest tightened. It was all happening so quickly. He was leaving for Port Leclare, and, after that, she would meet Mr. Thornhurst.

“Ah, Bella, thank you for coming to see me off.” He extended his arms to her for a tight hug. When he pulled back, he held her at arm’s length. “Are you sure you’ll be all right here?”

“I’m sure. I have Gerald and Edith and Emmaline to keep me company. I’ll be fine.” She granted him a smile. She didn’t dare tell him her plans to earn some coin while he was back in Port Leclare. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll be staying at the inn,” he said. “Should you need me, send word there.”

She nodded. “I’ll keep you posted of everything happening here at Hawthorne. I promise. And you’ll let me know how things are going for you?”

He brushed her cheek with the back of his gloved hand. “Of course, I will. You’re a good daughter, Bella. What would I do without you?”

And then he was off. He picked up his case and headed out the door, climbing into the carriage without another look back. She stood in the open doorway and watched as the carriage clattered down the gravel drive, leaving dust in its wake, until it disappeared around the corner and was finally out of sight.

She spun on the heel of her slipper and bounded back up the stairs to her room where she grabbed her shawl, wrapping it around her shoulders. She pulled on her favorite lace gloves and tied on a bonnet that matched her pale blue silk gown. As she was tying the bow, Emmaline entered.

“Miss?”

“I’m going out for the day, Em,” she said, securing the knot under her chin. “Tell Gerald I will not be home for supper.”

Emmaline stood in the doorway, blocking her exit. “Where shall I say you’re going?”

“I’ll be in town.”

It wasn’t far from the truth. She would, at least, be starting there. She snatched up the book and cradled it against her chest, turning toward the door. But Emmaline refused to move, as though she were a roadblock. Her gaze landed on the book.

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