Evander’s grip on her tightened, stopping her.
“I am forced to bear a long recovery for my pain,” he hissed out, discomfort making his eyes cloudy. “But you do not share that burden. There is no reason for your heart to be left this broken if it does not need to be.”
“Here we are,” Nora announced as she pushed the door open. “A stiff brew for you, my heart,” she said, bringing the tea to Evander’s lips.
“Elara, you have kept your brother awake enough,” Nora lightly scolded as she helped Evander drink. “Let him rest now.”
Elara nodded, kissed the top of Evander’s hand, and left the room. As she walked down the hall to where her room once was, she pondered whether or not she was brave enough to take Evander’s advice.
Chapter 30
“Come now, son, what ails you?” Constantine asked, his deep voice weary as he rocked a crying William in his arms. Through the windows, the cheery light of the middle of the afternoon streaked in through the curtains. On a usual day, it was when William would be napping.
Instead, the boy cried harder, his sobs shooting into the air and settling like barbs in Constantine’s heart. He had been like this for six days. Since Elara left.
He misses her.Youmiss her.
Constantine shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts, and rang for Betsy and the wet nurse. It barely took them a moment to come to him, their faces both distraught. Mrs. York came in only a few seconds later, wearing a similar expression.
“You rang, Your Grace?” Betsy asked.
“Something is wrong,” he stated straightaway, still pacing with William in his arms. “I believe the fever may be coming back.”
Constantine looked up just in time to see the three women glance tiredly at one another, and then Betsy walked toward him, arms outstretched.
“May I see, Your Grace?” she asked calmly.
For a moment, Constantine hesitated. He had not put the child down much ever since Elara left. The child needed a caregiver, but in turn, he had become Constantine’s. With William in his arms, he could not reach for a woman who was no longer there.
Reluctantly, Constantine handed William over to her, and he watched intently as Betsy took him. She placed her hand over the baby’s forehead. His cheeks and then his stomach. Then she picked up his little limbs one by one, giving them gentle squeezes.
“There is no fever, Your Grace,” Betsy replied sullenly when she finished. “Nor any sign of sickness that I can detect.”
Constantine’s brows furrowed as he frowned.
“Give him back to me,” he commanded, and at once, Betsy gently laid the boy back in his arms. “Something is wrong,” he insisted, his tone sharp as he went back to his pacing. “Something is wrong with my boy.”
Betsy and the wet nurse flinched at his outburst, but Mrs. York stayed as still as a somber statue.
“My dears, I believe you may be dismissed,” she said, using the stiff tone she usually took on when commanding the staff. “Sally, please do return in an hour. We need to keep our little Lord on his feeding schedule as much as possible.”
Both women curtsied; first to Constantine, then to Mrs. York, and without a word, left the room.
“Somethingiswrong, Mrs. York,” Constantine insisted. “I can feel it. The boy does not stop crying. He barely eats. Barely sleeps.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Mrs. York agreed, lifting her chin. “He sounds much like you.”
Constantine stopped pacing to glare at his housekeeper. She only looked back with a challenging brow raised, as if daring him to say she was wrong.
“This is no coincidence, Your Grace,” Mrs. York insisted, taking a step toward him. “So much has happened. You will not talk to me, so I only know what I have read in the papers. What happened with Master Augustus is nasty,nastybusiness. And the same night you discover his evilness, you lose Her Grace. That cannot have been easy for you.”
“Is that supposed to help?” he asked with a quickness, his tone laced with annoyance. “Because I assure you that your repetition of such facts is doing anything but that, Mrs. York!”
William’s cries lifted into a scream as Constantine raised his voice, and immediately Constantine flinched and held the baby closer.
“I am sorry, lad,” he whispered, gently rocking the boy. “I am sorry. It is all right.”
“Her Grace,and you, I might add, each told me at different times that your marriage was different. That you two had an arrangement,” Mrs. York went on in a matter-of-fact way.
