Page 76 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
Emotion and the weight of responsibility coiled tighter around him like a twisting, spiralling python.
‘I’ll write a note now,’ Henry said in a low voice that ran over gravel in his throat, ‘and I’ll send my groom back to fetch Papa.’
His mother held one of his hands and looked up at him. ‘Thank you, I am glad you are here.’
He smiled, but he could not answer. The snake, with its weight of emotion, had wrapped about his neck.
She squeezed his hand a little, then let go of him and looked back at William.
When Henry left the room every muscle in his body stiffened with the desire to fight this.
No. He refused the doctor’s judgement. Nothing ill would befall William. It would not. It could not.
He found the Matron who administered the hall William slept in. ‘Have you a quill, ink and paper? I need to send word home to my father.’
‘William is not improving?’
The words bit into Henry’s chest. He did not answer, he refused to face the reality of the situation. Yet it was right that his father came. His father should be here.
He scribbled the note with a shaky hand. It was brief.
Papa, William is too ill to be moved. Please come immediately.
Henry sealed it quickly and walked downstairs to find his groom. When he handed the letter over he gripped the groom’s shoulder. ‘This is extremely urgent, do not delay at all. Deliver it to my father as quickly as you can. He will be at home, in the town house. Hurry, please, and have him come back with you at once.’
The man bowed briefly then hurried away.
Henry turned back towards the school building. The pain in his throat which longed to shout or cry had become agony.
19
‘Miss.’
Susan looked up at the footman standing in the open doorway of her father’s library. She was not trying to paint today. She was reading, trying to lose herself in a fictional tale so she need not dwell on her own sorry story. It was proving unsuccessful. ‘Come in.’
She had turned sideways in her restless fidgeting and draped her legs across the arm of the chair. She sat up and turned around as the footman walked across the room, a slight amused smile on his lips. He held a letter.
Her fingers lifted and pushed her spectacles further up the bridge of her nose.
His smile implied she had become a topic of conversation among the servants. But then her returning alone had been an odd thing to do, and Dodds was still in town with her parents so there was no one to silence their gossip.
He held out the letter and bowed his head swiftly. ‘Miss, this arrived a moment ago.’
‘Thank you.’ She took it, her heart leaping. But then she could see it was not Henry’s writing but Alethea’s.
When the footman left, Susan set down her book and opened the letter.
It is terrible news.
The words jumped out from the first line.
Had Henry told her he would not marry her?
Susan sat back in the chair as fear gripped in her stomach, and clasped at the breath in her lungs. What had Henry done?
Dearest Susan,
You will not believe what has happened, it is terrible news, poor William has passed away. It was awfully quick, and I am unsure whether that was a blessing or not. The family only had the news yesterday that he had a fever. Henry and his mother went to the school to bring him home but he was too ill to be moved, and at eleven in the evening they sent for Uncle Robert. William died a little after midnight. I am wiping away tears for him as I write. I feel so for Uncle Robert and Aunt Jane. Of course they have gone into mourning.
