Enchanting the Duke - Lana Williams Page 0,46

and poor business decisions, their wealth had quickly dwindled until they were reduced to worrying about having enough money to purchase food each week.

As the eldest of three daughters, Caroline still berated herself for not watching him more closely, when she’d first noted his confusion. She hadn’t realized he was making so many unwise decisions with the money he’d worked so hard to earn.

She focused on what could be changed and pasted on an encouraging smile as her sisters and mother settled into their chairs at the table for their weekly Monday meeting. “Good morning.”

With her mother busy caring for her father, Caroline had stepped forward to rally her sisters in whatever manner they could think of to support their parents, save money where they could, and earn some if possible.

“How is Father this morning?” she asked her mother. His nagging cough the past few days had prompted their request for the doctor to pay a call.

If Caroline hadn’t been watching, she might not have noticed the slight tightening of her mother’s mouth. Her worry deepened as her mother smiled—no doubt as false as the one that graced her own lips moments ago. “He slept fairly well.”

Caroline waited until her mother’s gaze met hers. She recognized the concern in the depths of her brown eyes. It had been there so often of late.

“Barclay is with him now.” Their loyal butler had been more help with her father’s condition than any of them had expected.

Sir Reginald was slowly losing his grip on reality. Caroline and her mother had noticed inconsequential things at first. The once vigorous, impressive man clever at investments and so helpful to England’s war efforts with his shipping business that he’d been awarded a knighthood nearly two decades ago, had memory lapses. Not terribly surprising given how busy he was.

They’d disregarded it as nothing more than temporary slips. When it became more obvious, occurring so often that even he realized something was amiss, they’d sent for the doctor.

Doctor Smithson was an old family friend and delivered the news as gently as possible, but the diagnosis was devastating. He warned them to expect Sir Reginald’s mental capacity to continue to decline. The worst part of his message was that little could be done to halt it.

Her father was now a shadow of his former self. He couldn’t go to his office at the shipyard without one of them in attendance, nor could he make the decisions required to manage his many investments. His second-in-command at the shipyard attempted to help but didn’t have the business savvy or instincts of Sir Reginald. Nor did Caroline.

She and her mother had made the decision to keep the shipping business open but at this point, it barely paid for itself. Caroline made weekly visits with her father, hoping the occasional sight of him in the shipyard would help keep it afloat. Attempting to insert herself into the business when she was a woman and knew so little about what items were profitable to ship, especially in a time of war, continued to be a struggle.

They all missed their father dearly. His physical self remained with them, but the man he’d been had departed. On bad days, when he forgot how to put on his trousers or where his library was, she wondered if this terrible form of purgatory was worse than death. During his coherent moments, when he realized how much mental fortitude he’d lost, his despair was heart-wrenching.

“A good night is the basis for a good day,” she told her mother.

Her mother reached to squeeze her hand across the table. “You are quite right, my dear. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Caroline dearly wished she could do more.

“Has the doctor responded to our message?” her mother asked with a hopeful tone.

“Unfortunately, he won’t be able to call for a time.” Caroline said nothing further on the topic, certain her mother understood the reason. The lack of money was a constant battle they all fought.

The cost of feeding their household had nearly tripled due to the wars with France and America. Caroline had cut costs where she could, changing their diet significantly. Breakfast was one of the least expensive meals with the price of eggs high but more reasonable than other foods.

“Annabelle, how is the story coming along?” Caroline asked.

“Quite well.” Her sister, two years younger than Caroline’s twenty-three years, dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “A new villain has emerged. He is far worse than the previous one.” The gleam