CHAPTER 121: CHAPTER HUNDRED AND TWENTY ONE

Knock...

knock...

knock.

A series of soft, polite knocks sounded on the door of Baron Henry’s bedchamber.

"Enter," his weak voice replied from within.

"Good day, Father," Delia said as she opened the door, a warm, genuine smile on her face.

"Delia, my dear," Henry said, his own face lighting up at the sight of her. " You came!"

He looked around the room, checking to see if she had come alone. "Where is your husband? Where is the Duke?" he asked as Delia entered his room.

"He dropped me here, Father," Delia replied, her voice smooth and reassuring. "He had something urgent to attend to at his company so he left."

"He dropped you off and didn’t at least come in to say hello?" Henry asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Delia smiled. "Oh, Father, he wanted to, believe me. I was the one who insisted that he go and sort out the urgent situation first. I told him it was very important because I wanted to speak to you alone beside he would still come to pick me so I’m sure he will come to say hello this time."

She went over to his bed, her movements full of a gentle care. She arranged his bedding, fluffing the pillows and making him feel more comfortable as he sat up straighter against the headboard.

Delia then took her usual seat in the armchair beside his bed, smoothing her skirt.

"Very well then," he replied, satisfied with her explanation. "But you have come at a quiet time. Augusta and Anne are not around."

"That is exactly why I came, Father," Delia replied, her expression turning serious. "I wanted to speak with you alone."

Henry was already getting worried, a frown creasing his brow. "What is the problem, child? Tell me."

"It’s about Anne," Delia said, getting straight to the point. "She wants to marry Duke Philip."

Henry’s reaction was one of pure, surprised shock. "What?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Yes," Delia replied. "They came to the Carson estate together during the family lunch. It... it caused a lot of a scene."

Henry let out a long, slow sigh of frustration, the sound rattling in his weak chest.

"I was thinking about whether I should tell you or not," Delia continued, her voice full of a carefully crafted concern. "But after meeting him, I do not think Duke Philip is a good person. He won’t make Anne happy. I was hoping that perhaps you could talk Anne out of it. She might listen to you."

Henry reached out and took her hand, his own hand feeling frail and cool in hers. He tapped the back of her hand gently.

"Thank you, my dear," he said, his voice full of a deep gratitude. "Thank you for looking out for your sister, even after every childish things she has done." He smiled as he continued tapping the back of her hand. "Ever since you got married, you seem to have grown up a great deal."

Delia joked, trying to lighten the serious mood. "I am no longer a child, Father."

"You will always be a child to me," Henry replied, his own smile soft and full of love.

Delia took both of his hands in hers and rubbed them softly, trying to impart some of her own warmth into them. "Please, Father," she said, her voice a soft plea. "Just focus on getting better. Recover soon."

Henry nodded his head, his eyes growing misty at his daughter’s simple, loving affection. Delia took care of her father throughout the rest of her stay, reading to him from his favorite books and telling him stories of her short time on Baston Island, before she finally had to leave.

That night, Augusta came into Henry’s room, dressed in her long, silk nightgown. She was carrying his nightly medicine on a small silver tray.

"Why did you come home so late tonight?" he asked her, his voice still holding a hint of the coldness.

"I had a lot to do today," she replied as she set down the tray of water and his medicine on the table. "We are coming up with a new dye for a new textile collection. It is very time-consuming." She handed Henry the familiar-looking pills and the glass of water.

After he had finished, he set the empty glass down and looked at her, his expression hard and resolute. "Cancel it," he said. "Wrap everything up."

Augusta, who had been about to pick up the tray, froze. "Wrap what up, Henry?" she asked, confused. "I discussed this new collection with you just yesterday, and you agreed. You said we should see how it goes. We have already started the initial production. The sales from this line will finally increase."

"The sales are not the issue here, Augusta," he said, his voice firm. "You and Anne are about to ruin the reputation of this family and this business. That is the issue."

Augusta looked at him, her own expression now a mask of confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I heard you are trying to marry off Anne to Duke Philip," Henry replied, his voice a low, angry accusation.

"Who told you?" Augusta asked, her eyes narrowing. "Was it Delia?"

"It does not matter who told me," Henry replied, his voice rising in anger. "What matters is that you are encouraging this madness! Do you really think the Carson family will allow it? After that disgraceful scene at their home? What will people say about our family, Augusta? First one daughter jilts her fiancé for one Duke, and then the other daughter immediately throws herself at the other Duke? We will be the laughingstock of the entire kingdom!"

Augusta was silent, just looking at her husband, her mind racing as she tried to find a way to spin this, to regain control of the situation. But for the first time in a long time, Henry was not going to let her.