She saw the look of anguish that crossed his lean tanned features at the child’s careless words. He obviously cared deeply about his daughter, and it hurt him to hear her describe the way she thought he thought about her. She sensed he was fostering all the remorse of a single father who was obliged to employ strangers to care for his child while he earned them both a living. But she also glimpsed a thread of anger in the gaze he directed towards her, and she wondered if he thought she had engineered Rosie’s innocent invitation. ‘I—’ She strove to find an explanation for not accepting the position that wouldn’t offend the little girl. ‘It’s very kind of you, Rosie—’ ‘But Miss Victor is heading off tomorrow,’ put in the child’s father harshly, before Sara could finish, and, despite the fact that she’d been about to say something similar, Sara felt her hackles rise at his callous dismissal. ‘Besides,’ he went on, rather maliciously, she thought, ‘I’m sure our visitor would find our way of life very dull.’ Rosie looked crestfallen now.
