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Her father caught her hesitation. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I think so.” She grasped the doorknob more tightly. “Or rather, I hope so.”

He set down his quill and gave her his full attention. “Come in and sit down.”

Closing the door behind her, Phoebe crossed the room and took the chair on the other side of his desk. “I do not wish to take too much of your time.”

“These books will still be here later today, tomorrow, and next week. I am quite content to take a break from them for a little while.”

She nodded and smoothed out her gown, hoping the sweat on her hands would not leave marks. If she could conjure up a subtle way of introducing her subject, she would. As it was, it was probably best that she jump right in.

“Does what I think really matter?”

Her father looked startled. “Most certainly.”

“Even if no one around me ascribes to the same opinion?”

“Am I to assume we are discussing something more important than everyone at a dinner party enjoying mushrooms whilst you despise them?”

She managed a weak smile. “Yes.”

“If you are quite sure that your stance is grounded in truth, then I would hope that you are never called upon to abandon the notion.” He shrugged. “I realize that it is far easier for a man to act upon his impressions than it is for a woman, but it is hard for me to believe that if I had fathered a son, he would be any more sensible or kindhearted than you, my dear.”

Gratitude brought a lump to Phoebe’s throat. Her father’s affirmation meant all the more because it was wholly unconnected to her appearance.

“Thank you, Father. That means a great deal.”

He smiled kindly. “Sometimes, when our social circle is limited, it can be challenging to find like-minded people, but if we are willing to increase our acquaintances sufficiently, we often find those who think as we do.”

Phoebe pondered that thought. The neighbors they had met since arriving in Berkshire had been most welcoming, but they were a relatively close-knit group. Other than Emily, Marianne and Georgiana were the only young ladies close to her age. Who was to say that Marianne’s and Georgiana’s opinions should carry more weight than her own simply because they were of similar minds?

She and her mother shared a love for beautiful gowns and social gatherings, but they deviated in the value they placed on social standing and the estimation of others. Was she, perhaps, more like her father in the way she considered those things? And if so, might he perhaps be in a position to help with her current quandary?

“May I ask your impression of Lord Dunsbourne?” she asked.

Her father blinked with surprise at the sudden change in subject. “Lord Dunsbourne? I hardly know the man.”

“I realize that,” Phoebe said. “And perhaps it is unfair of me to ask, but I should like to hear your initial opinion of the gentleman, if you are willing to give it.”

Her father frowned. “Has the baron done anything to make you question his character?”

“Nothing that I can personally attest to. But . . . but I have heard rumors.” Phoebe clasped her hands. This was harder than she had thought it would be. “If the rumors are true, his past deeds are as despicable as they are disreputable.”

“I am sorry to hear it. But surely, if he keeps to himself as he has in the past, those rumors should have little impact upon you.” He eyed her sternly. “Unless you intend to propagate them.”

“I hope you know me better than that, Father. I saw how whispered words affected Jane. No one deserves to unjustly suffer in that way. If a wrong has been committed, I would rather have it out in the open than have it hiss around a room like a poisonous snake.”

“I am glad to hear it. If that is the case, however, I would have thought you could ignore whatever you may hear about Lord Dunsbourne without it causing you any further concern.”

His words were dishearteningly similar to her mother’s.

“Under normal circumstances, I would agree,” she said. “But I have struck up a friendship with his younger sister. She is very sweet and a delight to be with.”

“When we met her at the Palmers’ house, she seemed quite amiable—albeit, rather oddly dressed.”

Phoebe smothered a smile. “Yes. She reached out to me to ask for my assistance with her wardrobe.”

“Then I shall add astute to the list of qualities she possesses.”