They continued their meal, and when finished, the footman took the dishes away.
“Do you prefer cognac or coffee?” she asked him.
He thought about it. “Cognac.”
Together, they moved into the drawing room. The footman was already pouring out a glass of cognac for Henry. Theodocia accepted the glass of port she preferred after supper. Henry picked up the newspaper and scanned it briefly, noting the adoption of Greenwich Mean Time throughout Great Britain.
He heard his mother pace the floor several times and then finally take the seat before the grand fireplace. “I saw Della yesterday. She was with her mother,” Theodocia said as she smoothed the auburn-colored skirt of her silk gown.
Henry said nothing.
“They were shopping and invited me to tea, but I had another engagement,” she told her son.
“Why would you accept an invitation to tea with them?” he wondered as he perused the newspaper.
Theodocia sighed. “Because, Henry. Because we live in the same town. Because you are good friends with Della’s brother, Guy. Because I thought this might pass and you might forgive and move on.”
“Oh, I see.” Henry folded the newspa
per in half and set it aside. “I’m supposed to forgive what she did. I’m supposed to call it wash and make her mistress here. Is that what you’d like?” he said coldly.
“You loved her, Henry,” Theodocia said calmly. “I’d wager you still love her. I’m trying to make this right.”
“You’re trying to make it right?” He frowned. “It isn’t your place to make it right, Mother. It’s hers. And she’s done nothing to do so.”
His mother gave him a sharp look. “Henry, don’t be so cold. She made a mistake. She’s young. She’s foolish. I’ll admit she was never a favorite of mine. But you loved her so I tried to see the good in her. You had dreams. So did she. If you can forgive, I’m sure she would marry you—”
“I’m going to bed,” he said abruptly, moving to his feet. The chair screeched behind him.
“Henry—” she began.
“Good night, Mother.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek and was gone.
Henry went upstairs and entered the vast bedroom that was his. It had a curved window seat that overlooked the river and a large four-poster bed. It was a beautiful room to be shared, and he had wanted to share it with Della Keene.
But life had not turned out that way.
He removed his jacket and flung it across the bed. He walked the long length of the great room and took a seat overlooking the river. The sun had long set, but he could see the water rippling in the wind. He was pleased that Audrey Wakefield had made it to the workhouse. She would not find it an easy life there, but it was a respectable job for a respectable woman.
He turned to look at the four-poster bed. How many times had he imagined Della there with her soft brown eyes and black hair fanned out against the white sheets? He closed his eyes. Suddenly, he thought of Audrey. Audrey with her beautiful face, jewel-like eyes, and flashing temper. He had been impressed the day they met when she stood up for herself.
Most women he knew would not have spoken their mind so decidedly or been so clear on their intent. When she turned to him with tears in her eyes, he’d felt horrible. How could he leave such a lovely woman alone in the world? Hadn’t he joined the Board of Guardians for that exact reason?
He moved away from the window. The Matron had written to tell him that Audrey had arrived and was at the workhouse. That should be the end of it. But suddenly, he had an intense desire to see her. It wasn’t rational, but something tugged at him, something he couldn’t deny. He would make a visit to the workhouse.
It was his duty, after all, to make certain the workhouse ran just so. He was there to see the workings of it. To make sure everything ran smoothly. If he happened to see Audrey Wakefield, then that would be fine, too.
Audrey’s first day as schoolmistress had not been a success.
She rubbed the back of her neck and massaged it. It had been chaotic. Of the sixty-seven children, only sixty were in the classroom. The rest were out ill.
She had been given a female inmate for help, but the woman couldn’t read or write so Audrey was unsure why she had been sent to assist her. The children were rowdy and wild, and she seemed unable to control them. She looked down at her hands and curled them into fists. She felt like a failure.
She left her small room at the end of the hallway and went outside to visit the large vegetable garden the inmates looked after. She was feeling sorry for herself. It was not a good place to be. As she rounded the corner, she saw two men talking. Levi was speaking to a man a few years older. The man had dark auburn hair and light blue eyes.
“Ah, there’s the pearl!” Leviticus Penn said as she came into view.
She smiled at his cheerfulness. “Hello, Mr. Penn.” When he scowled, she corrected herself. “Levi.”