Sandra Heath by The Haunting of Henrietta

Author:The Haunting of Henrietta
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

It was February 11, the day of Charlotte’s churching and Eleanor’s christening, for such the baby was to be named. Henrietta’s prolonged stay in Yorkshire was almost at an end, and the next day she and Amabel were due to set off on their long journey south to London. But a question mark now hung over their departure, because the past weeks had seen very heavy snow across the entire kingdom. Many country roads were impassable, and Mulbridge hamlet would have been completely cut off had not the local men labored hard and long to clear a way so that the celebration of Eleanor’s birth could proceed as planned. Now the carriage had arrived from the abbey and waited at Nurse’s gate.

Henrietta tried not to think of Marcus. On several occasions over the past month he’d endeavored to speak to her, but she’d successfully managed to avoid him. She wouldn’t be able to avoid him today, however, for they would be together at the church and again at the abbey. Oh, how she prayed the roads would be pronounced fit for the journey south, because she didn’t think she could endure being close to him again for very long. She was dressed in a sapphire-blue woolen gown and a matching pelisse trimmed with gray fur. There was a gray fur hat on her dark hair, and she looked very stylish indeed. Stylish was the last thing she felt however, for that morning at Nurse’s breakfast table something happened that had stabbed her like a dagger.

Russell had arrived in the carriage and joined the others in the cramped little dining room. “Isn’t anyone going to ask me why Marcus and Amabel are driving to the church from the abbey, instead of leaving from here with us? After all, he is one of the godfathers,” he said suddenly.

Charlotte glanced across at him. She was rocking the Mulborough family cradle, which had been transported from the abbey. She wore peach velvet, and was aglow with health and vitality. “Well, no doubt you are going to tell us.”

He nodded. “It seems Amabel has a tendresse for him, and after much flirting, has finally succeeded. I’m convinced that she will soon be the Marchioness of Rothwell.”

Henrietta didn’t glance up, but her hand shook so much as she poured another cup of tea, that the teapot rattled against the blue-and-white china.

Charlotte stared at her husband. “And what, pray, leads you to such an unlikely conclusion?”

“The evidence of my own eyes. She’s been quite shameless, and at first he did his utmost to avoid her, but then he began to change. This morning I saw her creeping from his room.”

The teapot slipped from Henrietta’s fingers and would have spilled had she not caught it quickly. “F-forgive me,” she murmured apologetically to Nurse, whose best crockery it was.

“That’s all right, my dear,” the old woman replied, looking shrewdly at her.

Charlotte spoke again. “Russell, are you saying you actually saw Amabel leaving Marcus’ room?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Charlotte got up.

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