Page 13 of A Zephyr Rising
“—can you please fetch this young lad some water?And stay with him.We’ll return in a moment.”Henry grabbed Ginger by the elbow and pulled her from the entrance toward the library.Once inside, he demanded, “What did you do?”
Ginger shook her head, her long dangling earrings feeling heavy in her ears with the movement.“I don’t know—I…” She thought back to the fight.“Charlie was fighting with the Winser boy and I stopped it.And when the boy told me his name, I checked his pride by telling him I knew his own father had changed their name from Wissner…”
“What?”Henry’s voice boomed.“Well, no wonder the man is furious.It’s a wonder he’s not throwing bricks through the windows of Penmore.”
Why was he reacting so furiously?Ginger shrank back.“But I don’t understand?—”
“Darling sister—Thomas Winser changed his name years ago to avoid the German association.You claim to be concerned about the plight of good Englishmen who are being discriminated against.Think about what you’ve done.”Henry opened the door.“Pierce, tell Bosworth to pull the car around at once.”
Setting a hand over her parted mouth, Ginger stared at the scowl on Henry’s face.He’s right.
“Damn it, Ginny.This time you may have gone too far by being careless with your words.Your impulsivity is bound to catch up with you.”
She didn’t try to defend herself.How could she have been so stupid?
“You think Thomas Winser means to retaliate against the Martins in order to prove his loyalty to England?”
Henry’s jaw clenched and his eyes became slits as he nodded.“He’s also likely furious you’ve publicized his own Germanic background.Honestly, Ginny, what were you thinking?He may try to retaliate against you or the family.”The heels of Henry’s well-shined shoes clapped against the marble flooring in the foyer as he strode back toward Charlie.
Bile crept up her throat.
What have I done?
She had been so smug.So satisfied with herself.
Stupid, ignorant fool.
Ginger fled after Henry.“Where are you going?”
“Mrs.Martin and her children need our immediate aid.”He glanced at the butler, then back at her.“I’m going to the village.Don’t interrupt Mama and Papa yet to tell them where I’ve gone.They can wonder where I’ve gone off to for a bit, but I don’t want to worry them needlessly.With any luck, the threat to the Martins will come to nothing.”
“I’m going with you.”Her parents would notice they’d gone immediately, but if Pierce said nothing for a few minutes, it gave her the leverage she needed to slip away with Henry.Ginger pulled her earrings off and then slipped her necklace over her head.“Mr.Pierce, please give these to Violet to replace in my bedroom.”
“My lady, is it wise for you to go?It’s late.”Pierce took the jewelry from her, but looked over the top of her head toward Henry.
“I’ll be fine.”She motioned toward Charlie.“Come on.Let’s take you back home.”
“I don’t think—” Henry began.
Ginger silenced him with a sharp look.“If I created this, the very least you can allow me to do is to fix it.”She counted on Henry’s dislike of quarreling to help convince him.
Henry’s nod was clipped.
Together with Henry and Charlie, she rushed out into the summer night.The air held the slightest chill, reminding her they were heading steadily away from long days of festivity.Her ankles wobbled in the driveway’s gravel.She wished she’d changed into something more suitable—an evening gown with fine beads seemed cumbersome at nearly nine in the evening.If she ripped anything, Violet would have her work cut out for her to put it all back together.
Within a few minutes, Bosworth had brought the car around.They jostled down the driveway toward the village, dust from the gravel pluming behind them.On the leather seat beside her, Charlie radiated heat which matched his rapid pulse.An earthy, unwashed scent rose from his skin.
Ginger met Henry’s eyes in the seat across from hers.Henry said nothing, but she read the concern in his expression.He wouldn’t have rushed off like this if he didn’t think the threat to the Martins was credible.Or that it could show up on their doorstep.
She should have been wiser than to say what she’d said about Thomas Winser.Holding her tongue was often a skill she’d lacked as a child—though her governess had done her best to drill it out of her.
But when she remembered Archie Winser’s smug look as he’d stared down poor Charlie, her anger resurfaced.How easy it was for Archie to cast stones.Though he was quite young.She’d had the impression he hadn’t even known about his own family background—breaking the news to him must have been a blow.
As they drew closer to the village, the moonlight highlighted the whites of Henry’s eyes.Ginger reached across the car for his hand, the pressure of nerves battering her insides.Henry leaned forward and took her hand in his.His hands were warm and steady, with the sort of confidence she’d always loved about him.Even when she was a girl, he’d been the first to offer her comfort in the face of fear.
After they’d first arrived at Penmore from Cairo when she was younger, she’d refused to sleep in the nursery.Her Egyptian governess had often told her frightening fairy tales and parables to keep her in line, and Ginger had become convinced a ghost haunted the nursery.She’d sneak to Henry’s room when fear got the better of her—and he always allowed her to sleep curled up against him.She’d find herself back in the nursery by morning, another favor.
Moonlight outlined the Martins’ house, the thatched roof absorbing the light.They were nearly there when Henry let go of her hand and pivoted toward the chauffeur.“Go around to the other side.”
