Page 33 of Sacrificing the Untamed Lady Henrietta
“It was most unkind,” she corrected him matter-of-factly, and he dared not disagree for she was right. It was one thing to act the cad. It was something else entirely to insult her.
“There was no excuse for it.”
“Your mother believes you to be unstable.”
“Does she?” he remarked dryly. “How helpful of her to offer her opinion on my emotional state.”
Henrietta bit her bottom lip as if considering her words carefully. Finally, she spoke.
“She told me why. I am sorry for your loss, my Lord.”
Ewan tried to keep his face blank despite his mood swinging dramatically. This was a conversational direction he did not want to go.
“So am I,” was all he could say, suddenly withdrawing within himself. It was, after all, a well-worn path. He gave his attention fully to his dinner for the first time since he sat down. As usual, the duck was perfect.
The silence grew awkward while he ate until finally she said, “I accept it.”
He glanced at her sideways in silent question.
“I have decided to accept your apology,” she explained.
He cleared his throat and gave her his own version of a fake smile. “Your condescension is both noted and appreciated.”
Awkwardness returned to the space between them with full force. At last, distraction arrived in the form of the wedding cake. A delicately-frosted fruitcake was deposited with much fanfare on a small table before the bride and groom. The room erupted in applause as the happy couple indicated their approval of the sumptuous confection.
Henrietta managed a convincing smile as a very generous piece was cut and set before them each.
“You outdo yourself, my Lord. A feast for the eyes.”
Ewan eyed the cake. He couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed a piece of Cook’s cake. In what seemed like another lifetime, Cook’s confections had always served him well as a remedy for the occasional boorish mood. Perhaps emotional stability was in reach after all. He simply needed to eat cake.
“My dear Lady, I assure you, I had very little to do with any of this, including the cake.” His words sounded sour though he hadn’t really intended them to.
“It seems our parents have conspired against us at every turn.” She savored a bite. “At least the cake is good.”
Ewan took a bite and surveyed the dining room. It was a veritable sea of people, some of whom would be staying at the manor for days. He spotted the General and his new mother-in-law. They looked to be naturally inclined toward displeasure. His eyes roamed until they landed on his mother and father. They appeared equally unhappy. He glanced to his left and looked again upon the disheveled state of his bride. If she could run, why couldn’t he? Why couldn’tthey? Impulsiveness wasn’t generally in his nature, but change was certainly in the wind. He was a fool to deny that much.
“What do you say we go to Scarborough?”
Henrietta’s eyes widened dramatically like saucers, suddenly showing as much white as blue. She swallowed a large bite of cake and then looked at him with suspicion.
“Do you tease me, sir?”
“No, I do not tease you. I’ve no great wish to remain here where our every move, our every word no doubt, is scrutinized for emotionalstability.”
“When?” She could hardly get the word out.
“Tomorrow. We have just wed. We have all the excuse in the world to run away from home for a few days.”
“Scarborough. Tomorrow.” Her words came almost breathlessly.
He tilted his head slightly and as he took another bite of cake, he wondered at this sudden change in her demeanor.
“You puzzle me, my new Lady Peterborough.”
“I prefer paradox.”
“As you wish. I like a good puzzle,” he paused, “or paradox, as you say. If you agree to agree, tomorrow we will alight for a few days of refreshment by the sea. I think it a good plan and will benefit us both.”
