Chapter 108 - Hundred And Eight
"Your condition isn’t improving, Henry," Augusta said, her voice ringing with a forced melody of wifely concern. She handed him the small pills for the morning, the new ones the doctor had supposedly prescribed.
He took them with a cup of water, his hand trembling slightly. "It seems I must have hurt Catherine so much in the past," Henry said, his gaze distant as he stared out the window. "And now she is punishing me from beyond the grave."
Augusta took the empty cup from his hand, her own expression carefully neutral. Still thinking of your old flame, even on your deathbed, she thought to herself, a wave of disgust washing over her. Disgusting. She let out a gentle, sympathetic sigh.
"You are not giving your body enough time to rest and regenerate, my dear," she said softly. "I was quite surprised when Preston told me you were asking for the business ledgers again."
"You know I was trying to reform the business," Henry replied, his voice full of a weary regret. "I wanted to remove the bad name my father brought upon it, to give it a new, respectable reputation. But then my health started to fail me. I just wanted to know how things are going now."
Augusta looked at him with a slight, hidden annoyance. His meddling in the business was an inconvenience to her own plans. She continued her pretense of concern. "I am just so worried that something might happen to you, Henry. I don’t want you to have any regrets later on."
He reached out and tapped the back of her hand softly. "Don’t worry so much, my dear. I will be fine." A rare, happy smile touched his lips. "Besides, it is the weekend, and the newlyweds are coming to see us. I am so happy to finally meet them properly. Will you help me get dressed? I want to have a meal in the dining room today. It has been such a long time since I had a meal together with my family."
Augusta returned his smile with a false one of her own. "Of course, my dear," she said. "Anything you wish."
The grand Ellington dining room, a room that had been silent for months, was finally filled with the soft clinking of silver on china. Henry was seated in his wheelchair at the head of the long, polished table, a look of genuine happiness on his pale face. Augusta sat at his right side, the perfect picture of a dutiful wife. Eric sat at Henry’s left, with Delia seated beside him. The only empty chair was Anne’s.
The maids, moving swiftly, began serving the appetizers. A rich, fragrant, and creamy soup was ladled into each delicate porcelain bowl.