Beside her, Catherine sat with a contented smile upon her face while working on a white work project of an intricate diamond patterns surrounded by a floral border. Embroidery came with such ease to her sister.
Suddenly Pugsley sat up, his ears back. A moment later footsteps sounded in the hall and Lady Hazelshire entered the room. The little black dog rushed across the room and Rowena’s mother picked him up, cradling him as though he were a babe.
“Good boy,” she cooed and walked behind the settee to inspect her daughters’ work.
“What beautiful detailing, Catherine. Very nice,” The pride in her voice was evident, causing Rowena to break into a cold sweat.
How ridiculous it is that at the age of two-and-twenty and as an almost married woman, my Mother inspecting my needlework still reduces me to jitters?
Just then, she felt her mother place a hand on her shoulder. A resigned sigh escaped the woman’s mouth and then a deafening silence which was interrupted only by Pugsley’s small yaps.
“Your Father wishes to see you, Rowena,” her mother said at last.
“Papa has returned?” Catherine asked, excitement in her voice. She had already placed her needlework aside and was getting ready to stand when Lady Hazelshire stopped her.
“He returned this morning from Shropshire and has just now come in from Parliament. You may see him later, Catherine. For now, he would like to see Rowena.”
She looked at her sister whose childlike face had taken on a crestfallen expression. Her eyes were watery with tears and the corners of her mouth downturned. Their eyes met for a moment before Catherine took up her needlework once more without another word.
Rowena felt badly for her sister, for she knew how attached she was to their father, they both were. However, she had to admit, she was thrilled that he’d sent for her. While she loved her mother, it was with her father whom she was truly close. Aside from Betsy, he’d always been her closest companion.
“Is Papa in his study?” She rose and placed the unfortunate embroidery on the side table where her mother picked it up.
“He is,” Lady Hazelshire sat down on the settee, the needlework in her lap. “I will see to this. Let’s hope His Grace is not keen on fine embroidery,” she shook her head and began to pull stitches out of Rowena’s work.
* * *
“Papa?” Rowena knocked on her father’s door and let herself in once he called for her.
“My dear child!” He rose from his armchair and came rushing toward her, placing a kiss on her cheek.
“I feel as though I have not seen you in weeks, Papa.”
“I feel as though I have been away for weeks myself. I will tell you, Shropshire has entirely lost its appeal to me. If I never have to see the place again, it will be far too soon. I dare say, if the troops had lured Napoleon to Shropshire, the war might have been over many years ago.”
They shared a laugh and Rowena felt lighter than she had in weeks. Her father always had a comforting presence. Alas, she worried for him. His face was drawn and the lines on his face seemed to have deepened. And there was a strain in his eyes she had not seen before. Even the way he walked had changed. As he motioned toward the heavy armchairs by the fire, he walked as though he was carrying a heavy weight upon his back.
“Care for a game?” her father asked as he sat down in his armchair. To her delight, she spotted their old chess game still set up on the table beside the chairs. They always had a game of chess at the ready or in progress, both here and at their country home.
“Of course, Papa. It has been so long, you may even stand a chance of beating me this time,” she smiled at him as he broke into a laugh.
“I should hope not. In fact, I had a game just this afternoon with a young lord at White’s. We didn’t finish, but I must say I fared well.”
Rowena made her first move, opening the game.
“Very well then. You have an advantage over me for I have not played at all since last we finished our game at Farnsworth Manor.”
The two settled into their game, with Rowena deep in concentration, while her father told her all about his experiences at the vineyard.
They both loved chess. It was a game he had taught her at a young age. They would often spend several hours together, playing and talking. It was quality time that Rowena cherished. Suddenly, she found herself growing sad at the thought of not being able to have these regular games with her father. She looked up at him and placed a hand on his.
“This I will miss, above all.” she said, aware that the sadness was evident in her voice.
Her father had just picked up a pawn and was ready to place it when he looked up, his hand floating in the air with the pawn clutched between his index finger and thumb.
“My Darling, we will still play chess together. Not as often, but we will. You are not going far. Crawford Castle is just outside Barrington, which is not far at all from Royston. Two hours by carriage, perhaps. You shall see so much of us you’d wish that I’d made you a match with a lord from further away.”
He laughed his haughty laugh and reached over to pinch her cheek. She sighed, attempting to force a smile onto her lips, but failed.
