He didn’t react to her suggestion, other than to blink.
She wondered if he’d be embarrassed—or grateful—to be carted down. It was so
difficult to know what to do.
“Temperance, before you take some time for yourself, please have the servants move the chaise longue from the morning room to the garden and then send a footman up to carry my father down.”
“If I may be so bold, my lady, I’m not certain his physician would agree with that action.
It may do more harm than good.”
Then Catherine might have her father’s death on her conscience. Avendale’s she could live with, but her father’s—
She sighed. “Ask his physician the next time he comes to check on the duke.”
“Yes, my lady.”
It seemed as though Catherine could do so little to make her father comfortable.
“I’ll be visiting with my father for the next hour,” Catherine told her. “Take some time for yourself.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
Catherine sat in the chair and took her father’s hand. He moved his head only slightly to look at her. He awkwardly rubbed the ring she’d begun wearing on her right hand.
“I’ve taken to wearing Mother’s wedding ring. Is that all right?”
He made a sound deep in his throat. Taking a linen handkerchief from a stack on the bedside table, she wiped the spittle from the corner of his mouth.
“I wish you could tell me what you wanted.” She brushed her fingers through his thinning silver hair. “I hope you’re not in pain.”
With a sigh, she sat back and lifted a book from the bedside table. “Let’s see what sort of trouble Oliver and the Artful Dodger are going to get into today, shall we?”
“Expected to be collecting from you sooner,” Jack said as he welcomed Luke into their establishment that evening.
“I went away for a bit.”
Three days to be exact. The worst part was when he returned from the brink of despair, when the liquor had served its purpose and its effect began fading. His head hurt, his stomach roiled, and he felt like bloody hell. It was a strange thing for a man such as he, a man who’d done the things he’d done, to be hit with a bit of conscience. It was always worse at night, when he faced his own demons alone. All that would change once he married Frannie. She’d distract him from his somber musings. She’d bring light into his darkness. She’d be his salvation.
“Into a bottle?” Jack asked.
“I don’t see that it’s any of your concern.”
Jack shrugged. “It’s not. I just wondered if I should send another case of my finest Irish whiskey round to your residence.”
Luke hated admitting his weakness, even to Jack. “Yes, see to it. Tonight if possible.”
“Consider it done.”
Luke was well aware of Jack studying him. He also knew his friend wouldn’t ask what had prompted his latest fall, so Luke was surprised when he heard himself blurt, “I had a visit from Lady Catherine Mabry.”
Jack furrowed his brow. “Mabry?”
“Daughter to the Duke of Greystone.”
One of Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “My, my. Aren’t we keeping distinguished company of a sudden?”
“She wanted me to kill someone.”
