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She was lucky in the fact that she was unrecognizable. She was probably one of the only members of thetonwho nobody knew at all. But her father…he was one of the few people in the world who could identify her on sight.

If he caught a glimpse of her across a darkened, crowded room, it was true, he might not realize who she was. Not with her hair cut off and her servant’s garb. Not here, in a place she had no business being.

But if he caught two or three glimpses, or if he got a look at her up close, he would absolutely know it was her.

Astrid had no idea what he would do then. Would he cause a scene? Would he give her identity away to Horace and the others who worked here? She had to assume not—surely her father would protect her—but it was possible that he wouldn’t be able to conceal his shock. And that would definitely lead to trouble for her.

She would have to stay out of sight for the rest of the shift.

Quickly, she filled the sink up with water and submerged her hands, even though she had no mugs to wash. If anyone came back here, she would have to make up a story about having been ordered to clean a few mugs and hope that no one looked too deeply into it.

And she would also have to figure out, somehow, what her father was doing here.

Was it possible he was one of O’Flannagan’s cronies? And if so, could he know something about Lord Hayward’s death?

Astrid certainly didn’t want to implicate her father in this crime.

But if he had information that could help prove Conor’s innocence…well, she couldn’t allow herself to rest until she’d gotten her hands on that information.

One way or another,she thought resolutely,I’m going to have to talk to him about this.

Chapter 27

Leaving Middleborough Manor in the middle of the afternoon was more difficult than leaving at night, because the manor staff was all around. But, as it turned out, Astrid didn’t even need to make a secret of her outing.

“Of course you would want to visit with your father during this trying time,” DuBois said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like us to send a carriage for him and bring him here to see you?”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.” Astrid definitely didn’t want to have this conversation here at the manor. If it turned out her fatherwasin some way culpable for what had happened to Lord Hayward, she wanted to leave herself some options when it came to how she would proceed.

But if it comes down to him or Conor, I’m not going to protect him, she swore to herself.I’m not going to let my husband take the fall for my father’s crimes. We’ve both done more than enough to keep him out of jail already.

DuBois had the carriage summoned to collect her at the front door of the manor. It was such a different experience from walking home from the pub late at night that Astrid could hardly believe both events belonged to her world.Last night I was a lonely bar wench, she thought to herself.This afternoon, I’m the wife of an earl. What a strange life this is.

The carriage dropped her off in front of her father’s home. Even from the outside, it was achingly familiar, and Astrid felt a pang in her heart. “Give me an hour,” she told the footman. “Then come back and pick me up.”

“As you say, My Lady.”

She rapped three times on her father’s door with the brass knocker mounted there, feeling bolder than she ever had in her life as she did so. The idea of demanding entrance to this house made her feel, for the first time, the weight of her new status as Lord Middleborough’s wife. Always before, her father had been in charge of her.

But now my status outranks his. Now I can tell him what to do.

He would always be her father, of course, and in that sense,hewould always outrankher. But this shift in power between them made Astrid feel more on a level playing field with him. She felt equal to the task she had come here to achieve.

After a moment, the door opened. There stood her father, just as she remembered him.

And for a split second, Astrid wanted to throw herself into his arms and sob, as she had when she was a little girl. So many terrible things had happened over the past couple of days. Her husband had been taken away from her just as she’d begun to love him! It wasn’tfair. And here was her father, the man who’d always held her when she’d cried out against the unfairness of the world as a child.

But she wasn’t a child now.

She had to stay strong, for Conor’s sake.

“Father,” she said. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” he said, standing back and holding the door open for her. “I paid a call to Middleborough when I heard the Earl had been arrested, but I was told you were taken ill and that you weren’t seeing anyone.”

Astrid frowned. It had not occurred to her that her father might come to see her, that her subterfuge might keep him out. “I wasn’t told,” she said. “I would have made an exception for you, of course.”

“I’ve been worried about you,” he said. “I couldn’t believe Lord Middleborough was accused of murder.”