Fear seized her. Was this a trick? Was he testing her?

“I,” she stammered awkwardly, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you?” he suggested dryly. He did not appear disheartened in the least by her wary response. He opened the door for Anna as she brought in the tea and cake.

“Where did you get this?” she asked her grinning husband. He seemed quite pleased with himself.

“From Whiting’s. His library is quite impressive.”

“But why –?” she forced herself to press on, “why did you get this for me?”

He sat down with her at the small round table by the long windows and poured them both a cup of tea. “Well, my dear Lady, I thought it would make you smile.” His knowing eyes held hers, unwavering in their soft grasp, and the effect was like a caress. He had invited himself into her secrets, and he seemed eager to share in the pleasure they brought her.

“But now I wonder if I should have taken the trouble. Perhaps I should have just sent Anna for cake.”

“No, my Lord Marquess, do not mistake my surprise for displeasure.”

She was not displeased at all. She was quite the opposite. If it was true, and he had really acquired a medical journal for her reading pleasure from Whiting’s library, without her having to sneak there or ask his permission to read such a book, this was indeed a very special day.

“I have surprised you then?”

“My absolute astonishment.”

He nodded approvingly.

“I am stunned.”

“Yes, yes, I understand. You were not expecting such a gift from me. We will agree on that I’m quite sure. Now, are you going to smile, or do you need a bite of cake first?”

He cut her a small piece and then took his own big bite from it.

Yes, she would certainly give him a smile, because she could hardly stop herself at this point even had she wanted to. The smile was welling up on the inside, somewhere around her heart, and it spread quickly, lighting up not just her face but her entire being.

“There we are,” he smiled back. “Very nice, my Lady.” He savored another bite. “And the cake is good too.”

She held the book on her lap, almost reverently. It was odd to have it out in the open and not be cowering with it in a dark corner in fear of being discovered. Discovered and reprimanded, or worse.

“I would have you read to me, but I think I would prefer Dante to anything medico-chirurgical,” he said profoundly, pulling the word from the journal’s title.

Their eyes locked again before they both burst out laughing. “What does that audacious word mean?”

“I have no idea!” she giggled. “But I will find out, my Lord Marquess. I promise I will discover and report back to you.”

General Oliver sat down at his desk intending to peruse his mail. The trip to Nightingale had set him back in his correspondence, but he had decided to spend the day dividing and conquering the task at hand. By nightfall, he promised himself, it would all be attended to.

As he worked his way through the stack, nothing of great interest was pressing, and most matters were routine and tedious. However, there was one letter he set aside and saved for last, not recognizing the handwriting or the non-descript wax seal. When he felt content with all he had accomplished, he broke the waxy seal of the last letter and unfolded the page.

General Aaron Oliver,

I regret to inform you that all is not well with your beloved daughter. Trouble is brewing for her as ghosts of the past do not easily go away. I am quite certain you will desire to involve yourself as you would wish no harm to befall her.

Genuinely,

A Friend

The General let the page drop to the desktop from his shaking hand. Ghosts of her past? What was meant by it? The medical journals? Her wretched insistence on becoming a physician? The applications? Had the Marquess discovered their secret that Henrietta would never accept her role and be content as wife and mother? Or worse, had the Duke discovered it? Perhaps it had not been wise to keep such a thing from the powerful Duke of Everly, but had they disclosed the headstrong and impertinent ways of his daughter, the arrangement would never have been agreed to.

But even had the Duke of Everly discovered his new daughter-in-law was a bit of a freethinking radical, would such knowledge endanger her life?

General Oliver scowled. This made no sense. Was this ‘friend’ warning of a threat or threatening?

Ghosts of her past?

Just then, Mrs. Oliver entered the room. The scowl on her lovely countenance remained from the other day. Indeed, it had become most engrained. In an amount of time he could measure in hours, his normally warm and winsome wife been made over into a lady he hardly knew. A cold and bitter lady.

The General’s frown deepened, feeling all the weight of blame. He must have owned his part in everyone’s unhappiness. Owning it was the first step. Attempting to fix it was the next.

“Tabitha, my dear, we leave again on the morrow. Please make ready to depart again.”

“Depart? For where, Sir? We have only just returned from Peterborough.”

“And we will revisit that northerly region.”

“And why, Sir?” Tabitha said contentiously. “For what purpose?”

“Henrietta may be in danger. We must go Scarborough and ensure that she remains safe.”

The harsh, unforgiving features of his wife’s stoic face looked to soften. She asked no more questions, and she did not smile, but neither did she argue with him. It was a start.