Knock...
knock...
knock.
A series of soft, polite knocks sounded on the door of Baron Henry’s bedchamber.
"Enter," his weak voice replied from within.
"Good day, Father," Delia said as she opened the door, a warm, genuine smile on her face.
"Delia, my dear," Henry said, his own face lighting up at the sight of her. " You ca!"
He looked around the room, checking to see if she had co alone. "Where is your husband? Where is the Duke?" he asked as Delia entered his room.
"He dropped here, Father," Delia replied, her voice smooth and reassuring. "He had sothing urgent to attend to at his company so he left."
"He dropped you off and didn’t at least co in to say hello?" Henry asked, a hint of disappointnt in his voice.
Delia smiled. "Oh, Father, he wanted to, believe . I was the one who insisted that he go and sort out the urgent situation first. I told him it was very important because I wanted to speak to you alone beside he would still co to pick so I’m sure he will co to say hello this ti."
She went over to his bed, her movents full of a gentle care. She arranged his bedding, fluffing the pillows and making him feel more comfortable as he sat up straighter against the headboard.
Delia then took her usual seat in the armchair beside his bed, smoothing her skirt.
"Very well then," he replied, satisfied with her explanation. "But you have co at a quiet ti. Augusta and Anne are not around."
"That is exactly why I ca, Father," Delia replied, her expression turning serious. "I wanted to speak with you alone."
Henry was already getting worried, a frown creasing his brow. "What is the problem, child? Tell ."
"It’s about Anne," Delia said, getting straight to the point. "She wants to marry Duke Philip."
Henry’s reaction was one of pure, surprised shock. "What?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"Yes," Delia replied. "They ca to the Carson estate together during the family lunch. It... it caused a lot of a scene."
Henry let out a long, slow sigh of frustration, the sound rattling in his weak chest.
"I was thinking about whether I should tell you or not," Delia continued, her voice full of a carefully crafted concern. "But after eting him, I do not think Duke Philip is a good person. He won’t make Anne happy. I was hoping that perhaps you could talk Anne out of it. She might listen to you."
Henry reached out and took her hand, his own hand feeling frail and cool in hers. He tapped the back of her hand gently.
"Thank you, my dear," he said, his voice full of a deep gratitude. "Thank you for looking out for your sister, even after every childish things she has done." He smiled as he continued tapping the back of her hand. "Ever since you got married, you seem to have grown up a great deal."
Delia joked, trying to lighten the serious mood. "I am no longer a child, Father."
"You will always be a child to ," Henry replied, his own smile soft and full of love.
Delia took both of his hands in hers and rubbed them softly, trying to impart so of her own warmth into them. "Please, Father," she said, her voice a soft plea. "Just focus on getting better. Recover soon."
Henry nodded his head, his eyes growing misty at his daughter’s simple, loving affection. Delia took care of her father throughout the rest of her stay, reading to him from his favorite books and telling him stories of her short ti on Baston Island, before she finally had to leave.
That night, Augusta ca into Henry’s room, dressed in her long, silk nightgown. She was carrying his nightly dicine on a small silver tray.
"Why did you co ho so late tonight?" he asked her, his voice still holding a hint of the coldness.
"I had a lot to do today," she replied as she set down the tray of water and his dicine on the table. "We are coming up with a new dye for a new textile collection. It is very ti-consuming." She handed Henry the familiar-looking pills and the glass of water.
After he had finished, he set the empty glass down and looked at her, his expression hard and resolute. "Cancel it," he said. "Wrap everything up."
Augusta, who had been about to pick up the tray, froze. "Wrap what up, Henry?" she asked, confused. "I discussed this new collection with you just yesterday, and you agreed. You said we should see how it goes. We have already started the initial production. The sales from this line will finally increase."
"The sales are not the issue here, Augusta," he said, his voice firm. "You and Anne are about to ruin the reputation of this family and this business. That is the issue."
Augusta looked at him, her own expression now a mask of confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"I heard you are trying to marry off Anne to Duke Philip," Henry replied, his voice a low, angry accusation.
"Who told you?" Augusta asked, her eyes narrowing. "Was it Delia?"
"It does not matter who told ," Henry replied, his voice rising in anger. "What matters is that you are encouraging this madness! Do you really think the Carson family will allow it? After that disgraceful scene at their ho? What will people say about our family, Augusta? First one daughter jilts her fiancé for one Duke, and then the other daughter imdiately throws herself at the other Duke? We will be the laughingstock of the entire kingdom!"
Augusta was silent, just looking at her husband, her mind racing as she tried to find a way to spin this, to regain control of the situation. But for the first ti in a long ti, Henry was not going to let her.
Reviews
All reviews (0)