“It is all right, Ollie girl,” he rasped, “It will all be all right. Come up to my chambers as soon as you can, though. We must speak.”
“Miss Wexley, he really must be put to bed now,” Mr. Grimes insisted.
With difficulty Ophelia let go of her father’s hand; tears pricking her eyes as she watched him be carried on the stretcher toward the stairs.
“Tell me what happened to him,” Ophelia demanded.
“I am sorry to report that Lord Whitebridge’s heart has weakened considerably since I last examined him,” Mr. Grimes stated, getting right down to it. “I had warned him, years ago, that he needed to see me at least every six months once he turned fifty, but then he never came back.”
Ophelia’s heart sank into her stomach; knowing that the reason her father had avoided the exams was because they were struggling financially.
“I wish I would have known,” she said softly, shaking her head, “I would have taken him myself.”
“I am afraid we can not go back in time,” Mr. Grimes stated in a professional tone. “All we can do is try to be better moving forward.”
“Is he going to die?” She whispered as tears escaped down her cheeks.
“It is possible,” Mr. Grimes answered truthfully, “However there are things we can do to prolong that. No more spirits of any kind. Less meat. More vegetables. Plenty of rest. And if there is any way he can avoid being stressed, make it so.”
“I will,” Ophelia stated.
“Good,” Mr. Grimes said with the nod of his head. “Now give me a moment, and I will write down a list of medicines you should obtain from the apothecary.”
Ophelia listened closely to Mr. Grimes as he explained the administering of her father’s new medicines and his suggestions of future care; all while Theo and Amelia stayed closely by her side. When he was finished the three of them walked with him to the front door, and Ophelia felt another wave of tension wash over her as they found her father’s accountant standing there, ready to knock.
“Oh goodness,” she sighed, “I forgot he was coming.”
Mr. Wolfe gaze oozed with displeasure as he looked on at Ophelia.
“Miss Wexley,” he greeted in a short tone, “I do believe your father sent for me. It should not be a surprise that I am here.”
“Even if he is behind on his payments,” he muttered under his breath.
The sadness and fear over her father’s condition left Ophelia’s body immediately. Her bowed shoulders straightened and her chin rose in the air as she stared down at the little beady-eyed creature that looked more like a rat in a suit than a man.
“Amelia, Theo,” she calmly said to them, “would you mind going to our cook to inform him of my father’s new restrictions while I speak with Mr. Wolfe?”
“Respectfully, Miss Wexley, I am here to speak with your father,” Mr. Wolfe replied with a condescending tone.
“Respectfully,Mr. Wolfe,” she replied, her voice dripping with venom, “My father has suffered an emergency. If you want your payment you will follow me to our parlor and have no issue conducting business with me and keep your condescending opinions of women to yourself.”
Mr. Grimes cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Yes, well, I suppose I should be going,” he muttered, “I will be back tomorrow to check on your father, Miss Wexley, but do fetch me again if something should happen before then.”
“Thank you, Mr. Grimes,” Ophelia replied, still staring challengingly at Mr. Wolfe.
Mr. Grimes hurried away, leaving Ophelia alone on the front step with the accountant.
“Well?” She asked him, “Shall we see to business? I need to get to my father.”
Mr. Wolfe’s pinched, rat-like face turned several shades of red as he frowned at her, but he gave her a stiff nod and followed her inside. His narrowed eyes widened as soon as he saw the small fortune of pounds sitting on the work table, though, and he suddenly seemed eager to get to business.
She presented the invoices to him and a quick, confident manner, then gave clear instructions on what money was to be used where.
“Of course, I am aware that we owe you your fee, Mr. Wolfe,” she said, holding the last stack of pounds in her hands. “However, with your disinclination toward doing business with women, I do understand if you are not comfortable receiving it. We could always wait to pay you until my father is able to do so himself.”
“No,” Mr. Wolfe said quickly, his eyes greedily fastened to the money in her hands. “No that will not be necessary. Thank you, Miss Wexley.”
