Charles had spent too long writing and rewriting a new poem. It still wasn't perfect, but he would have time to work on it later.
For now he would have to settle for being late in meeting his father at the stables. He had been avoiding the man to the best of his abilities if he were being honest with himself. He didn't quite know how to look at him anymore. But that shouldn't have let him be rude to their guests, he chided himself as he arrived at his destination.
He approached his father and some of the guests, an apologetic smile on his face. Abigail had already arrived, he was pleased to see, and was that Adelaide?
"Terribly sorry for delaying myself. I hope you'll all forgive me," he said, addressing his father and the guests gathered closest to him.