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Sophronie opened her eyes to find Evan studying her.

Doctor Dargavel trundled in. He twisted his mouth into a semblance of benevolent smile for Sophronie as he lifted her father’s wrist and felt for a pulse. “Weak, but steady.”

He looked to Evan. “I’ve done as he instructed.”

All at once, Sophronie had had enough, and her control snapped. “Why am I, his daughter, the only one uninformed? What, pray tell, did my father say to you, Evan?” She pinned the doctor with an accusatory gaze. “And why haven’t you informed me, his next of kin, of his condition, but instead are running errands for him?”

The doctor grasped his lapels and eyed her. “My duty is always to my patient, lass. Yer father asked to speak with his grace, no’ ye, first. He also asked me to perform a couple of tasks to ease his mind and his passin’.”

His passing.

Oh, God.

There it was. Out in the open, straight from the physician’s mouth. Pain such as she’d never known cleaved her in two. How she remained upright she couldn’t fathom.

Feeling at once utterly selfish and like a harridan and horrible daughter, Sophronie lowered her eyes to her lap and nodded. “Of course,” she whispered. “I apologize.”

“Sophronie? Is that you?”

She perked up and leaned forward. “Yes, Papa. I’m here.”

He smiled and brushed a hand over her cheek.

“Good. Good.” He glanced at Evan and the doctor. “You did as I asked?”

What was with all of this secrecy?

“Aye, George. I did,” Doctor Dargavel said. “The cleric and solicitor should be here within the hour.”

Cleric? Solicitor?

Sophronie stifled a wail of despair.

“I would like to know precisely what my father’s condition is, Doctor.”

He gave her a grave look, then sighed and nodded. “I feared when he was trampled that he’d suffered internal injuries. There’s nae way to be absolutely positive, of course, and as he was recoverin’ well, I concluded he had no’. Unfortunately, today when he took a tumble and struck his already bruised spleen, it ruptured.”

Faintness swept Sophronie, and she struggled to keep her wits about her.

Even she knew what a ruptured spleen meant. Papa was bleeding to death. Right before her eyes, though she couldn’t see the blood, her beloved father’s life source was slowly ebbing away.

This is so unfair! she screamed inside her mind.

“I didn’t tumble.” Papa stared directly at Evan. “That woman pushed me with her horse after I told her it was none of her business when Sophronie and I were returning to Virginia.”

Evan and Sophronie swung astounded glances to her father.

“Miss Wesleyan attacked you with her mount?”

“She did.” He gave a weak nod.

“The vile bitch.” Sophronie clenched her teeth against the litany of profanity threatening to spill forth.

Evan made a rough sound in his throat and tramped to the window to peer out.

“In any event, Miss Slater, yer father will no’ recover,” the doctor said.

Scalding tears slipped down her cheeks.