Chapter 8: Few meters away
KNOCK! KNOCK!
The knocks echoed through the house, pulling Mrs. Belmont from her afternoon chores. As she moved towards the door, she wondered who it could be. It couldn't be the debt collector—her husband had seen to their scheduled payment that morning. And Caroline was out enjoying herself at the seamstress's shop, spending the academy's compensation on a new gown.
Wiping her hands on her worn apron, she opened it with a smile. "Mr. Henley, what a pleasant surprise to see you at this hour. Please come in."
Ezekiel stood there, his expression taut with an unspoken frustration. He offered a courteous bow but declined her invitation. "That's quite alright. I am running short on time today."
After a loaded pause, he got to the heart of his visit. "Mrs. Belmont, I'm here regarding my request for Ruelle's hand in marriage. I'm puzzled as to why you have sent her to Sexton instead."
Mrs. Belmont returned his gaze with an apologetic sincerity. "I am sorry, Mr. Henley. Mr. Belmont was swift in his decision due to the strain of our financial situation, and I didn't have the opportunity to discuss the proposal with him beforehand. I did mention it yesterday, and he has agreed to give his blessing for the marriage to proceed."
Ezekiel's mind raced. He knew about Sexton more than these mere humans did. Ruelle's admission couldn't be easily cancelled. "And how do you propose we address this?" he pressed her.
"Caroline is arranging the wedding attire as we speak," Mrs. Belmont assured him with practised patience. "We will hold the ceremony in two weeks. Does this sound agreeable, Mr. Henley? We can make the necessary arrangements in the meantime. Ruelle will be home, and there will be ample time for all of us to prepare."
The assurance that Ruelle would indeed be ready for the ceremony seemed to pacify Ezekiel. His features relaxed marginally. "You will need to return the compensation to the academy within the end of this week; otherwise, it will be too late. I'll see to it that you have the necessary funds," he replied with resolve.
"That is most generous of you, Mr. Henley!" Mrs. Belmont responded, inwardly more than pleased.
She had guessed the man held a decent standing, judging by the polish of his shoes and the tailored cut of his coat. Yet, realising he had enough resources to pull Ruelle out of the academy confirmed the wisdom of her decisions.