Once the celebration ended, Abigail and Solomon took their carriage back to the rectory. Solomon sat in the parlor, preparing for evening tea, while Abigail wandered into his study.
“I’ll just be a minute,” she called. “I want to compose a quick note for my father.”
“Tell him we’re settled in the city, and I was honored by our reception.”
Abigail sat at the desk with paper and quill. It was a difficult note to write. She couldn’t accuse her father of destroying her relationship with the man she loved. She would have to delicately request an explanation. She deserved the truth, and so did Ian.
When she finished, she added quick messages for her three sisters, put the letter on the table in the foyer for Anna, their housekeeper, to post, and went into the parlor to join Solomon. Tea had
