Chapter 7 - Seven

Chapter 7 -Seven

As Delia walked back towards the manor, her steps firm despite the lingering sting of her confrontation with George, she heard voices. Soft at first, then growing clearer as she approached the back patio, near the open French doors leading to the drawing-room. It was Baroness Augusta and Anne. They must have moved indoors after George’s outburst, seeking a more private setting for their conversation. Delia slowed her pace, instinctively moving into the shadow of a large oak tree, her soft-soled shoes making no sound on the lush grass. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but their voices carried clearly on the gentle breeze.

"Mama, just postpone their marriage," Anne’s voice, usually sweet, now held a sharp edge of impatience. "After all, she has been dying to marry that good-for-nothing man. Besides, it’s her fate." Delia stiffened at the casual cruelty in Anne’s words.

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