As soon as he pushed the doors open and stepped into the busy hallway that led to the kitchen, a huge, excited smile broke out across Murry’s wrinkled face. He could not contain his happiness.

"This is great," Murry whispered to himself as he went to the kitchen. He was practically skipping with joy.

He completely misunderstood her request. Because she had just talked about Damon a few minutes ago, Murry firmly believed she was asking for the soup to give to her husband at the military camp.

"She even wants to take some to her husband," Murry thought, his heart swelling with pride. He felt like the greatest matchmaker in the world. "Their relationship is truly blossoming. Little by little, they are learning to care for each other."

He pushed open the swinging doors of the large, hot kitchen. The cooks and maids were busy preparing food for the rest of the day.

Murry walked straight to the head cook. He instructed the maids to serve a large portion of the special soup in a heated, thick ceramic bowl. He told them to seal it tightly with a wooden lid and wrap it in thick, insulated cloths so it would stay boiling hot during a carriage ride. He wanted it well packaged for the General.

As the maids hurried to carefully pack the hot soup, Murry stood back and watched. He folded his arms, nodding in deep satisfaction.

"After last night," Murry continued whispering to himself, his mind filled with romantic assumptions about the young couple wrestling on the floor. "They must have been completely drained of energy. The General works so hard, and a passionate night takes a toll on a man’s body."

He looked at the bubbling pot of soup resting over the kitchen fire.

"This fertility tonic should help them both have great stamina for the next night," Murry concluded happily in his mind.

He had specifically ordered the kitchen to brew that special, expensive tonic this morning. The rare roots and deer horn extract were ancient remedies used to boost blood flow, increase male vitality, and ensure the conception of a strong heir. He had given a small bowl to Camilla to warm her body, but the main pot was meant for the General’s strength. And now, the Lady was personally delivering it to him. It was a perfect plan.

Once the maids finished tying the insulated cloths around the heated bowl, Murry gently took the package. He carried it carefully, making sure it did not spill.

He walked back out to the dining room.

He took the packaged soup to Camilla. He set the heavy, warm bundle gently on the table next to her plate.

Camilla looked up from her plate of eggs and bread. She smiled warmly at the older man.

"Thank you, Uncle Murry," Camilla said gratefully. She wiped her mouth with a clean white napkin and stood up from her chair. She was ready to go. "Can you ready a carriage for me?" she asked.

Murry bowed, completely thrilled that she was rushing off to see her husband.

Murry replied, "Right away, my lady. I will have the driver bring the fastest, most comfortable carriage to the front steps immediately."

"Perfect," Camilla said. She picked up the warm package of soup.

A few minutes later, Camilla walked out the front doors of the mansion. The morning air was fresh and pleasant. A beautiful, dark wooden carriage with shiny gold trim was waiting in the large paved courtyard. Two strong brown horses were hitched to the front, ready to run.

The carriage driver, a young man in a neat brown uniform, jumped down and opened the small door for her.

Camilla got into the carriage. She sat down on the soft velvet seat and placed the warm package of soup carefully on her lap.

The driver closed her door and walked up to the front to climb onto his high wooden seat. Before he picked up the leather reins, he leaned his head down toward the small open window near Camilla’s seat.

"Where to, My Lady?" the driver asked politely.

Camilla did not hesitate. She knew exactly where she needed to go.

"To the Kennedy’s estate," Camilla said firmly.

The driver stopped moving. He froze with his hand on the wooden railing. He looked down through the small window, his face twisting in complete confusion.

The driver was confused. He had just spoken to Mr. Murry. The head housekeeper had told him to prepare the carriage for a long ride out of the city. Murry had told him the Lady was bringing lunch to the General.

"Sorry my lady," the driver asked, scratching his head. "But aren’t we going to the barracks to see the General?"

Camilla’s polite, calm expression vanished instantly. She frowned deeply. Her eyebrows pulled together in pure, highly offended confusion.

"What?" Camilla asked, her voice raising in pitch. She looked at the driver as if he had just suggested they drive the carriage off a tall cliff.

"What am I seeing him for?" Camilla asked sharply, her voice full of extreme annoyance. She shook her head in absolute refusal. "I just got rid of him this morning. Why on earth would I want to go to a dusty, dirty military camp to see a grumpy man who doesn’t even know how to smile? Absolutely not."

She pointed her finger straight ahead, giving a strict, final order.

"Please take me to the location I just told you," Camilla commanded firmly. "The Kennedy estate. Right now."

The driver blinked rapidly. He did not understand the sudden change in plans, but he knew better than to argue with the Lady of the house, especially when she used that strict tone of voice.

The driver quickly nodded his head and tipped his hat. "As you wish, my lady," he replied obediently.

He sat up straight on his high wooden seat. He picked up the thick leather reins. He cracked them lightly over the backs of the two brown horses.

The horses neighed softly and stepped forward. The wheels crunched loudly against the stone paving of the courtyard.

The carriage moved. It drove smoothly out of the tall iron gates of the Benson mansion, turning away from the dusty road that led to the military barracks, and heading directly into the heart of the city toward the old Kennedy estate.

Inside the carriage, Camilla leaned back against the soft velvet cushions. She rested her hands on the warm, insulated package of soup on her lap.

She looked out the small window as the city buildings rolled past. She was completely unaware of the stamina-boosting fertility tonic resting on her lap. She just thought she was bringing a nice, warm, healing broth to her poor, beaten-up little brother.

"I hope Zade is feeling better today," Camilla thought to herself, smiling softly. "This soup will definitely cheer him up."