Respectfully, the staff dispersed, but for the duke’s night nurse, who hovered nervously in the doorway. “My apologies, my lady, my lord. I don’t know how he…”
Ian rose and approached the quivering man, making no attempt to disguise his anger. “Cooper, what are your duties exactly?”
“To watch over the duke from seven in the evening to seven in the morning, my lord,” Cooper answered, swallowing with an audible gulp. “My lor—”
“In my judgment, you and Simms both have been lax in your duties, playing upon Lady Ayr’s good nature and love of her father to escape the responsibilities you’ve been assigned. Lady Ayr should not have to spend a single sleepless night wondering if her father is getting the best of care,” Ian barked, though he wanted to strangle the man for causing Hero a moment’s upset. “If you feel that you cannot perform the duties you have been assigned in a more competent manner, I assure you that I shall see to it that you are replaced, even if Lady Ayr is too softhearted to do it herself. Am I understood?”
“Ye-yes, my lord,” the nurse stuttered before turning to Hero. “My lady, please accept my apologies. I assure you that it won’t happen again.”
“It’s all right, Cooper.”
Ian raised an imperious brow. It certainly was not all right.
Hero shook her head wearily. “Come, Papa, let me see you back to bed.”
“No,” Ian interjected sharply, before adding more softly, “I’d like a word with you if I might, Lady Ayr. I’m sure Cooper will see your father to bed and sit by his side for the remainder of the night.”
“I will, my lady,” the repentant nurse agreed with an emphatic nod.
“Very well.” She rose and went to her father, who was turning the hand crank on the orchestrion, again trying to fill the bellows. It wept and moaned, unable to hold air without the plug. She urged him to his feet and gave him a hug, resting her head against his chest. “You gave me quite a fright, Papa.”
“Did I?” he asked innocently, before frowning. “What are you doing out of bed? It must be past midnight. Come now, Daughter, back to bed.”
“You go up with Cooper, Papa.” Ian could feel the heartbreak in her words as if it were his own. She’d told him that there were bad moments as well. Given the duke’s general good cheer over the past couple of days, he hadn’t anticipated what he’d just been witness to. “I will follow you up after I have a word with Lord Ayr.”
Beaumont looked around curiously before his eyes lit on Ian. To Ian’s mind the duke looked calm and unruffled, as if nothing had happened. Perhaps he’d already forgotten the incident, leaving only Hero with the memory of his panic. How many times in the past had she replayed such a scenario? Beaumont smiled at him, waving a finger. “Oh, Ian. Yes, yes, of course. I knew Robert had died.”
“Goodnight, Papa.”
Hero pulled away from the duke, but he caught her tightly against him in a ferocious hug, squeezing a squeal from her. With a chuckle, he let her go, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “Goodnight, Daughter. Goodnight, Ian.”
“Goodnight, Harry,” Ian answered, but his eyes and thoughts were already on Hero.
“Don’t stay up too late,” Beaumont said as Cooper led him away. “And please be quiet when you come up. You don’t want to wake your mother.”
With a sigh, Hero crossed the room and knelt to replace the plug in the orchestrion’s bellows before thinking better of it and instead putting it on the mantel.
“Are you sure you’re quite all right?”
Ian’s brogue was husky with concern. His caring for both her and her father once again warmed her heart. “Yes, I’d thought it nothing but a lark of his when I first heard the music playing. Just one of the silly things he does. To see him shouting like that, I’m afraid it took me aback for a moment. Thank you for dealing with Cooper, my lord.”
Ian took a step forward then stopped, running a hand through his short hair, making it stand on end. “Bloody hell, Hero. How often does that happen?”
She clasped her hands in front of her, twisting them unconsciously as she remembered other times like these. “Not often,” she said, but couldn’t stop herself from confessing, “though these are the times when I wonder if I’ve done the right thing.”
“The right thing?”
“Arthur, my brother, wanted Papa to be institutionalized.”
It had been a long, painful argument between them, between all the duke’s children. Half of them wanted one thing, while the other half wanted another. In the end, Hero had insisted that her mother would never have agreed to it. Arthur had been firm then that their father would be her responsibility, so she’d brought Beaumont to Scotland. To Dùn Cuilean, where he could live a happy life.
Circling the room, she explained all this to Ian, who listened intently as was his wont. He had a way about him of expressing his caring, his sympathy, without saying a word. It was just one more quality that she admired in him. One more quality that would make it so incredibly easy to fall for him. There was that thought again, that feeling that she might come to love him swiftly and deeply, and yet she hadn’t even been with him for an entire week yet. How could she be thinking such things already?
It was one thing to desire so readily. But to love?
Knowing nothing of the turmoil in her mind and heart, he continued, “I think you do beautifully with him. In truth, I worry not about him but about how all this affects you. They must be trying, moments like these.”
“Yes, they are.” She paused by the one window in the room that overlooked the firth. It was raining, she realized. Ironic how some days could be sunny, reflecting her moments of joy, only to now weep upon the sorrowful ones. “Thank you again. I know this hasn’t been easy for you, either, or what you expected when you allowed us to stay.”
