Page 3 of Sacrificing the Untamed Lady Henrietta
Our son would have celebrated his first birthday in a week’s time. Perhaps Patricia would have been with child again by now.
It was an abysmal game to play, one which never had a pleasant end, but it did not stop Ewan from wondering what could have been if he had not lost his wife in childbirth.
“Lord Peterborough.”
He whirled to stare at Anna who stood in the doorway, her face pale yet relieved.
“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Ewan snapped at the servant. “You cannot simply walk into my chambers without announcing yourself!”
“I rapped, My Lord. Several times.”
Ewan had not heard a sound, but he knew he oft became so consumed in his own thoughts, he alienated the world around him.
“Anna, you must not barge into my quarters,” he reprimanded her but his voice gentled. The maid was one of his more favored and she did not often make mistakes, particularly not ones of a privacy nature.
“What is it you have come here for?” he demanded.
“Allow me, My Lord,” Anna offered. She hurried forward to light the fire, but Ewan sensed that she was purposely avoiding his gaze.
“Is something troubling you?” he asked slowly. It was not that Ewan deigned to involve himself in the servant’s woes, but he was unable to suppress the idea that Anna’s presence in that moment had been ordered by the Duke.
“No, Lord Peterborough.”
“Are you certain? You seemed relieved to see me when you entered.”
Deliberately, she pivoted, her motions slow and calculated.
“You may be frank, Anna. I will not be angry.”
“I feared the worst, My Lord.”
Ewan’s eyes widened in shock. It was not the response he had expected. He had thought that Anna would simply confess that she had been sent in as the Duke’s spy, that his father had sent her in to ensure he ate something.
“The worst?” he echoed. “What is the worst?”
She dropped her head in shame.
“Forgive me, My Lord.”
Yet Ewan realized he was less angry than intrigued by her words.
“You did not answer my question. What did you fear?” he asked but as he did, he suddenly realized what atrocious notion the maid had concocted in her own mind.
“Please, My Lord, I do not think you the type of man capable of such a sinful act—”
“You thought I would take my own life!” he gasped, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets.
“Forgive me, Lord Peterborough!” Anna squeaked but Ewan was no longer minding the servant.
He turned to look at himself in the glass above the toilet, his jaw firming as he did.No wonder they worry for me.Staring back at him in the mirror was a man he barely recognized, a dark stubble encasing his face, mimicking the darkness in his heart. He looked unkempt, dirty almost, his shirt untucked around the breeches. Ewan tried to recall the last time he had bathed or been shaved but he could not. He had lost so much weight, his face appeared hollow, gaunt.
“My Lord, may I fetch something for you to eat?” Anna breathed, perhaps hearing his innermost thoughts.
“Yes.”
Anna scurried from the room, leaving Ewan alone with his reflection.
Would Patricia recognize me if she saw me today or would she take me for a transient sleeping in the manor?
