He knew precisely where Tabitha had claimed Henrietta to be, but he had long suspected she was lying.
“A relative has taken ill.”
Quite a vague interpretation.
“I expect said relative is well again?”
“Yes,” the General replied shortly and reached out for his drink. He scowled slightly at the glass.
“Is something amiss, General?” Ewan asked, detecting the sour expression on his face. Aaron shook his head but glowered slightly at Gerome.
“I have never seen so little in one glass is all,” he muttered, pressing the drink to his lips.
“Gerome, fill the General’s glass appropriately,” the Duke instructed, and Ewan suppressed a deep sigh.
“At once, Your Grace.”
“Forgive him, General,” the Duke offered magnanimously. “He is a new addition to the household. He does not know of our ways.”
“He reminds me of one I recently dismissed,” Aaron said, and Ewan heart sank at the words.
He is a hard man, the General. He will be difficult to accept as family.
Ewan was consumed with a sense of foreboding. He was certain that allowing the Olivers into Nightingale would only bring along chaos which he did not have the gall to oversee. Yet what could he do? In twelve hours’ time, the General’s daughter would be his wife.
Chapter 8
Henrietta had never been as insulted as the night prior to her wedding. While her parents left for Nightingale, she was left alone in the care of two soldiers from her father’s infantry.
“They will see you to Nightingale in the morning,” Aaron had explained.
“I…I…I…” Henrietta sputtered. “Why will I not join you and Mama?”
“It is improper for you share a roof with your betrothed,” Aaron replied firmly. “It will do you no harm to wait one more night.”
“If you insist, Father but must I do so under guard?” she demanded indignantly. “I am not a criminal!”
“You require a chaperone.”
“A chaperone is Molly or Edgar! Not the infantry! Father, please, think of how it will look when I arrive at Nightingale like a prisoner!”
Aaron’s face had darkened, and he scowled deeply.
“You will realize one day that all I do, I do to keep you well, Henrietta,” he growled. “Do not forget that you have only just recovered from being ill.”
“What has that to do with the matter?” Henrietta protested. “They are not surgeons, they are soldiers!”
“Ronscales has some medical training from the wars,” Aaron replied without a thought and Henrietta seethed as she again realized her father had a response for everything.
“Dr. Slater did say—” her mother had ventured to add but Aaron’s look brought her to silence.
“Dr. Slater did say what?” Henrietta demanded, consternation flooding her veins.
“He did say that you are well enough to attend your wedding,” Tabitha added in quite a lame fashion, and Henrietta knew that was not what she had intended to say. Yet the younger woman also knew that there was little value in pressing the issue, not when her father stood so closely, monitoring their exchange.
“We will see you on the morrow,” Aaron told her. “I look forward to your wedding.”
There was little Henrietta could do but watch them disappear into the night. As her bitterness subsided with the retreat of the horses’ hooves, Henrietta optimistically mused that she was at least at leisure to move about the property. Her father did not see the danger in her escape with Ronscales and Davids afoot.