Duke of Disrepute (Dukes of Distinction #3) - Alexa Aston Page 0,18
a daily basis.
“He had a heart attack six days ago. He is very weak, I’m afraid. I don’t think he’ll outlast Lady Shelby by much.”
“You mean—he’ll die?”
“Yes, I am afraid so. Very soon.”
She began trembling. All her life, her father had been her rock. Even though she hadn’t seen him in several years, their weekly correspondence had kept the relationship strong. The thought of him gone made her feel as if she were adrift at sea without any oars.
“I want to see him as soon as possible. Is that allowed?”
“Of course. I fear he has been hanging on in order to catch a glimpse of you. And Claire.”
Elise decided she would see him alone first. Claire was already tired and irritable and in good hands with Mrs. Baines. Once she assessed his condition, she would decide whether or not to allow her daughter into the sickroom.
She rose. “I’ll go to him now.” She downed the rest of the brandy, as much for its warmth as the courage it might bring her.
“I’ll remain here in case you have any questions for me after your visit.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
She left the library, finding it difficult to put one foot in front of the other. Her father was dying. It was as if a part of her curled up and died, as well. He’d always been so kind and jovial. Now he would never have any kind of relationship with Claire. Selfishly, Elise had thought once her mother passed that her father would insist that she and Claire return to live at Shedwell. On the journey here, she’d fantasized about what they’d do together, Claire always with them. She thought her father could teach Claire to ride a pony in the pasture. Show her how to plant flowers. Read to his granddaughter.
None of that would happen now.
The thick carpeting muffled her steps as she walked down the corridor to his bedchamber. Pausing, she gathered her strength and courage before turning the latch and pushing the door open. His valet sat next to the bed and turned his head when he saw her. He rose and came to her.
“I’m glad you came, my lady.” Tears swam in the servant’s eyes. “I’ll give you a moment alone with his lordship.”
“I’ll try not to tire him,” she promised.
The valet sadly shook his head. “It’s beyond that.”
She made her way to the bed and saw the sunken shape lying there. For a moment, she only stared, trying to reconcile the man before her with the image of her father she’d carried in her head for so long.
The earl had lost a good bit of weight. His usually ruddy cheeks were sallow. His hair seemed to have fallen out in odd patches. His eyes, always so bright and lively, met hers. They were dull and listless.
She perched on the seat and captured his hand in hers, bringing it to her cheek and closing her eyes.
“My dear girl,” he said, his voice cracking.
Elise kissed his hand and then kept it next to her cheek. “Hello, Papa.”
“The doctor says it won’t be long.” His breathing seemed uneven. “I’m so tired. So very tired.”
“I brought Claire to meet you,” she said, hoping to tempt him to stay alive.
He tried to smile but the effort was too much. His eyes closed for some minutes. She would have thought he’d already passed except his hand remained warm.
Finally, he opened his eyes again. “I would like to see her. Tomorrow.”
“I will bring her to you,” she promised.
“Go see your mother. I . . . haven’t been able to. Not since my heart gave out.”
Elise kissed his hand again and lowered it to his side. “Rest now, Papa.”
She watched his eyes close again and sat for several minutes, reluctant to leave him. She supposed she owed it to him to go see Mama.
The valet waited outside. “I’ll be with him all night, Lady Elise. If I think it’s the end, I’ll summon you.”
“Thank you.”
With a heavy heart, she moved down the corridor to her mother’s rooms. Opening the door, she saw an unfamiliar servant sitting at the bedside and supposed it was Mama’s lady’s maid. She went through a good three or four each year, thanks to her demanding nature.
“I would like to sit with my mother a few minutes,” she said.
Without a word, the servant rose and left the room.
Turning her eyes to the bed, she saw her mother looking old. Much older than when she’d last seen her on the day she’d wed Norwood.