Page 7 of Sacrificing the Untamed Lady Henrietta
“Yes, Mama.”
I also cannot endure Father’s temper if I am not around.Again, she prayed for the mails to arrive. She was waiting for word from numerous places, any one of them could be the key to her escape.
God willing, I will be free of Father before he doles out whatever punishment he concocts.
Chapter 3
The storm did not let up for several days, dragging Ewan deeper into his private darkness. Four days passed when the sun finally poked through the horizon. He now felt some semblance of normalcy—or at least the despair he accepted as commonplace.
Suicide was out of the question, although he had been unable to shake the idea from his mind when the bleak moments were unbearable. Patricia’s passing left a hole in his soul— not one he would wish upon his nemesis, let alone the parents who loved him dearly. With the sun’s arrival came a newfound reason to live for.
I cannot go on this way. I am ambling about without meaning, and Father spoke the truth—I do cast a black umbra over Nightingale.
He sent for Vernon, ordered a shave, and asked Anna to draw a bath. Just as both servants scampered away, the Duke appeared on the threshold.
“Good morning, Ewan. You look well.”
“Father, flattery was never your strong suit. What is it?”
“Nothing,” Phineas’ expression hinted there was a great deal on the old man’s mind. Ewan took a deep “now, what” breath.
“Father?”
“I have a matter to discuss with you when you are dressed. Will you join your mother and I for breakfast?”
His impulse was to refuse, but the look he was given implied the Duke fully expected rejection.
For one year he has been waiting for me to heal with patience. I must also make an effort to be successful in overcoming my grief.
Overcoming this notion was inane, nevertheless, Ewan cleared his throat and nodded slowly.
“Yes, Father, but I have only just sent the servants to prepare for a bath and shave.”
The relief in Phineas’ eyes was nearly palpable, but he made no overt exclamation. Instead he said, “We will wait. When you have finished, we will be where I indicated.”
“Yes, Father.”
While Phineas retreated into the hallway, Ewan waited for the servants’ return.
There are business matters to attend to. The duchy continues to thrive despite my ineptitude to carry on. Patricia would not know me as this shell of a man. In her memory and our son, I must bear the anguish and do them proud.
He could not say why, after a year nearly to the day of her passing, he had received such an epiphany. Maybe he’d suffered enough, or maybe Patricia was telling him it was time to move on and make the best of it.
The rain must have washed his mourning down, enabling the Marquess to function—but barely. Whatever the reason, Ewan did not question this tentative rebirth. The servants worked tirelessly to make Ewan begin to feel more like the dashing lord they came to admire over the years. He looked in the mirror and he saw his dark eyes seemed less encumbered and his frame less turned in. He desperately needed a few pounds of flesh upon his cheeks, but he did not cringe so wholly as he had days earlier.
I remain here, despite my private hopes that I, too, would be taken away. God has seen me through this and I will prevail, just as Father has said. I am a Clark. It is in my duty to carry forth.
For the first time in twelve long months, Ewan had a dash of hope for the future.
* * *
“Ewan!” Prudence, the Duchess of Everly, gasped when he entered the dining hall. “My Son, you look wonderful!”
He managed a small smile for her and walked to his allotted chair, at his father’s right. “Hello, Mother,” he said softly. “As do you.”
He noted the sidelong look the Duchess cast toward his father, but whether it was due to her surprise or not, he could not be certain.
“Indeed, Ewan,” the Duke nodded his approval. “You are in fine fettle today.”
