Hetty was brought up short by her father’s impassioned voice. “Of course, as true Englishmen, we would never consider the application of such vile methods as those employed by those more radical members of parliament. Yes, gentlemen, I speak of the incitement to riot, the unconscionable exploitation of the workers by the more irresponsible members of our company. Nay, I would not wish to indict the whole of the opposition”
“Bravo, Father,” Hetty said when he reached a long pause. “A speech for the House of Lords? You speak this afternoon?”
“Eh?” Sir Archibald jumped at his daughter’s interruption, the words of his next sentence waiting impatiently on his tongue. “Oh, excuse me, my dear, I did not realize that you were still about. You haven’t yet finished your soup? Didn’t we also have some ham? Oh dear, I dislike potato soup, and that’s what she brought, isn’t it? Do you think perhaps Mrs. Miller could bring us something else?”
“Certainly, Father. Is there anything else I may do for you, sir?”
“Do for me? Other than have Mrs. Miller fetch me some ham soup? No, my dear. Such a good, considerate girl you are, Henrietta. Now, my dear, I’m off to make a speech this afternoon. If you are dining in, my child, don’t have Cook hold dinner. Sir Mortimer and I will be discussing whether or not we should journey to Manchester, to determine if large scale insurrection is in any way a possibility. I will, of course, inform you if I am to leave London.”
“I would expect nothing less from you, Father.” Hetty rose and kissed her father’s brow. As she closed the dining room door behind her, she heard her father’s beautiful resonant voice rise to an impassioned crescendo.
Chapter Three
Later that same day at Rose Briar Manor in Herefordshire, Lady Louisa Rolland pursed her lips and steepled her fingertips, tapping them lightly. “Jack, do listen. This is all very odd. I’ve a letter from Drusilla Worthington, that mousy little dab of a woman who is supposed to be chaperoning Hetty in London. She is full of apologies that she had to leave the dear child suddenly to attend to her sick sister in Kent.”
“Sounds proper for her to inform you.” Sir John didn’t look up from cleaning his favorite hunting rifle.
“What is odd, Jack,” Lady Louisa said, frowning at his bent head, “is that she left nearly four months ago. In fact, but four weeks after Hetty arrived in London. Neither Hetty nor Sir Archibald have mentioned it in their letters.”
Sir John looked up, a look of patent disbelief on his square, handsome face. “Surely you’re mistaken, old girl. Quite impossible, in fact.”
“I assure you it’s what she writes,” Lady Louisa said.
“But I’ve never known my father to write a letter to anyone. Something strange there, Lou.”
Fighting back an urge to cosh her husband, which seemed quite the natural thing to do, Lady Louisa managed to control herself. “Attend me, Jack, and cease your jesting. You know I didn’t mean that. I merely used Sir Archibald’s name in a manner of speaking. You know very well that Hetty is the only one who ever writes. And she,” Louisa continued, “hasn’t mentioned it at all.”
“Now, Lou, you’re not thinking about playing a dragon mother-in-law, are you? Lord knows if you want to, don’t. Send your own mother instead, she’d scare the sin out of the prince himself. She could give a dragon lessons. As for Hetty, I can’t say I blame her for not telling us. The Worthington woman was probably a damned nuisance, probably drove poor Hetty quite mad. Good thing she’s gone to that sick sister.” He paused a moment, looking worriedly at his rifle. “I hope the sister doesn’t die. That would mean the Worthington woman would be back in poor Hetty’s hair again.”
“Damned nuisance or not, my love, Hetty is but eighteen years of age. Even though she’s in mourning for Damien and won’t be attending Almack’s or any of the large ton parties, it concerns me that she’s not attended by anyone. It simply isn’t done.”
Finally, his wife got all his attention. Sir John put his rifle down for a moment and looked at her. “I don’t frown upon it. Do you mean that poor Hetty might have to forego the pleasure of having some elegant, worthless idiot asking for her hand in marriage? Really now, Lou, Hetty’s got a sound head on her shoulders. And I’ll wager she hasn’t even stirred much from the house these last four months, much less offended any of your great ladies.” He added on a sigh as he hefted his rifle over his left shoulder, “Maybe it would be better for her to kick up her heels and offend one of those stiff-butted old gossips. At least we’d know that she’s not still prostrated by Damien’s death.”