Page 31
“Unfortunate things happen in life,” Evan said. “It’s human nature to want to find a cause, a reason, someone to blame. But the truth of it is, lass, more often than no’, what happens is out of our control.”
His heart beat a steady, comforting rhythm beneath her ear.
“We can choose to fight what comes our way, Sophronie, become angry and bitter, or acknowledge that a higher, wiser force is at work. My Grandmother Gordonstone says that all things work for good for them that love the Lord.”
“Do you believe that?” she asked through her clogged throat.
“Honestly, I dinna ken.” Evan rested his chin upon Sophronie’s head. “I’ve seen the wicked prevail while the innocent are cheated. I dinna understand why some people die and others live. Why some prosper and others dinna. ’Tis a great riddle to be sure, and I dinna pretend to have the answer.”
Tears crept from the corners of Sophronie’s eyes, and she burrowed deeper into his chest, accepting the comfort he offered. This man who she’d considered her nemesis murmured soothing words and ran his big hands over her shoulders and back.
There was nothing the least sexual or inappropriate in his touch. With many females in his household, he’d likely had a great deal of practice at this sort of thing. Eyes closed, she stood there, accepting the comfort he offered. He’d become a steadying force in her life this past week.
At long last, the door opened, and they stepped apart. Sophronie wiped her eyes with her fingertips and gazed at the doctor expectantly.
He gave her a tired, benevolent smile. “Yer father has asked me to wait to speak with ye, Miss Slater, until after he has spoken with his grace.”
“But why?” Her gaze flew to the narrow opening between the door and the doorframe.
“He’ll explain his reasons to ye himself, lass,” Doctor Dargavel said. “Yer Grace, Mr. Slater awaits ye.”
With a slight nod, and an apologetic glance to Sophronie, Evan slipped through the doorway and shut the door behind him.
“Lass, excuse me while I attend to a few issues for yer father. I’ll return in a few minutes and apprise ye of everythin’.” He patted her shoulder in a fatherly fashion. “Ye should eat somethin’.”
“I cannot.” The idea of eating anything made her want to vomit.
She watched him until he rounded the corner farther along the corridor.
Why had Papa asked to see the duke before her?
~*~
Evan stood beside George Slater’s bed. He’d seen dying men before, and there was no doubt that life was rapidly fading from Sophronie’s father. He pulled a chair near the bed then sat.
“Mr. Slater, ye wished to speak with me?”
For several moments, the only sign of life in the ghostly white man was the gentle rising and falling of Slater’s chest. Evan shifted in the chair. If he didn’t miss his mark, Slater wouldn’t last the night, and Sophronie must say her goodbyes soon.
How awful to lose her father when they were so far from the comforts of home.
“Mr. Slater?” Evan tentatively touched the man’s shoulder with his forefinger.
Slowly, as if it took supreme effort, Slater’s eyelids crept open. He offered a weak smile.
“Your Grace.”
Evan waved the honorific away. “Evan, please.”
“Water,” Slater croaked.
Evan gently propped him up, then put the glass of water that had been sitting on the nightstand to the man’s mouth.
Slater took a couple of shallow swallows before turning his head away.
Evan lowered him to the plump pillows once more.
“I want you to marry Sophronie,” Slater whispered without preamble.
