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Eleanor’s mouth drew into a thin line, and she dropped her head. “I understand.”
Henry nodded down off to his right where one of the footmen was waiting. He was annoyed that the servants had heard this disagreement, but he still thought it best that the staff knew his wife’s preferences. “Jerome, please bring Her Grace a plate without meat. Be sure that all the ingredients used in the preparation are free of…animals,” Henry said the last word weakly, as he wasn’t entirely sure how to order a dinner that didn’t include some sort of meat. As Jerome walked away, Eleanor lifted her head. “Will that suffice?” He asked his wife.
Eleanor nodded. Henry looked down at his plate dejectedly. It looked a lot less appetizing now. Just as Henry was preparing to take his first bite of his dinner, the Dowager Duchess gave a lady-like cough. Once again, Henry had been so wrapped up in his attentions to Eleanor, he had forgotten his grandmother was even in the room.
“Forgive me for asking,” Henry’s grandmother said, a note of condescension apparent in her voice, “but if you don’t eat animals, do you also refuse to wear fur?”
Henry had to stifle a groan. He no longer wished to be part of this conversation. Everyone knew that ladies wore fur-lined garments. Not only was it fashionable, but it was one of the only ways they could block out the winter’s chill. He gave his grandmother a dark look, letting her know he did not appreciate her continuance of this topic.
“I…” Eleanor spluttered, and Henry turned to look at her. She was staring defiantly across the table at his grandmother, but her words had deserted her. She knew not how to defend herself, but she wasn’t willing to back down, either. Henry threw his hands up in disgust.
“If you ladies will excuse me, I seem to have lost my appetite,” Henry said as he rose from the table. “If either of you needs me, I will be in my study.” Without waiting for either of the women to add anything, Henry strode from the room. He didn’t even bother to glance behind him as he went.Let the two ladies bicker amongst themselves, Henry thought as he stomped down the hall toward his study.
As he marched away from the dining room, his tall black boots clacking on the floor, he nearly collided with Jerome.
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace,” the servant said in his low, rumbling voice.
“Think nothing of it…I am entirely to blame,” Henry replied quickly as he continued moving down the hall. Then, he stopped and turned on his heel. “Jerome?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the man replied.
“I’ll be in my study. See that a dinner plate is brought to me there.”
“Very good, Your Grace,” Jerome said with a respectful bob of his head.
As Henry began walking once more, he wondered at what had just occurred. He hoped that he had not just set a precedent. He did not wish to take all his meals in the study, nor did he want every meal to bring about such unpleasant feelings. Henry resigned himself to letting this instance be a one-time occurrence, but he vowed to put his foot down going forward.
This is my home. I am the master here. Eleanor is just going to have to understand that and comply with my wishes.
