His eyes now open, Lord Roberts looked between the two men and then to Algenon. “Book.”
Algenon straightened. The journal. He needed to retrieve the journal, but first he needed to know where they were kept.
“Lady Roberts, do you happen to know about any green journals my father might have in his possession?”
Her brow creased. “Green? I do not believe so. His current journal is brown.”
“I believe it is an older one, but I cannot be certain.”
She crossed to his father’s side, running her fingers over his forehead to move a lock of greying hair. Her smile was soft and sad as she looked at her husband. His father raised his good hand a little and she clasped it.
“David, I am going to ask you some questions. If the answer is yes, squeeze my hand once, twice if no.”
His father didn’t answer, but his gaze remained locked on Lady Roberts.
“Is the green journal in your study at Roberts House?” She paused for a moment, then looked at Algenon. “It is not there.”
Algenon felt foolish. Why had he not thought to communicate in such a manner? “Is it in the study at Blackthorn?”
After a moment, Lady Roberts shook her head. Algenon folded his arms, trying to think where else he would keep it.
“Is it in your room?” Lady Roberts asked.
Algenon waited.
She glanced up and smiled. “In his room.”
“Here or at Blackthorn?”
“It needs to be yes or no, Roberts.” Then she turned to Lord Roberts. “Is it at Blackthorn?”
This time Algenon saw both squeezes. Relief washed over him. At least he’d not need to make a mad dash to the estate for a mere book.
“Thank you, Lady Roberts.”
“Are you quite finished?” The older of the two doctors hovered close by, his lips pinched. “We need to complete our examination.”
“Forgive me.” Lady Roberts stepped back, releasing her husband’s hand. Her shoulders instantly drooped, as if the weight of the world had come crashing back down on them.
Algenon led her to a chair, surprised at how much just holding his father’s hand had brightened her. She truly loved him. It was an odd thought, but true all the same.
“Thank you, Roberts,” she said as she settled into the chair. “Your father always says you are the most thoughtful gentleman he knows.”
Algenon’s head jerked back. He glanced at the bed but could not see his father’s face past the doctors. It had been years since he’d paid Algenon a compliment, but the knowledge that his father didn’t think him completely hopeless soothed a battered part of his soul.
“I will go fetch his book and be back before noon.”
“But—”
He held up a hand, knowing her protest before it formed. “I need to do this. He won’t rest easy until I do.”
“Very well, but then you will take care of yourself, won’t you?”
“I will.”
At the door he spun around when his father’s strangled cry split the room. Both doctors were standing back, hands up and eyes wide, but his father’s gaze was on him.
“Fal… fal… fa—”
