Page 51 of The Duke's Last Dance
“Watch over my mother. I am going to see my father,” he said, pulling away.
“Nicolas, you should not start an argument with him. He is too frail!” His mother became half-hysterical again, and he took good care to ensure her that he was not going to start an argument.
Hearing what he had heard, he knew that he would have to wait until his father passed away to do anything about having to marry Miss Alexia. Since there had not been a push for him to marry her, yet, he assumed that the push was less likely to come now.
He walked into the room.
His father lay on his bed, his eyes closed. The Duke of Ashwood had been reduced to such a sickly state that he wondered if his father had started to die already. His body had lost much of its healthy stature, and his fingers looked as if they were nothing now.
Nicolas sat down at the bedside, unsure of what else to do. His father was dying… and the reality was beginning to hit him harder than he had expected it ever would. This was the man that had tried to keep him away from Catherine for so many years, had sent him into the Navy for that very purpose… and now that he was dying, Nicolas could not help but feel sorry for him.
He took his father’s hand in his. He had been right; the hand was very bony, and cold. He wondered if there was even any life left in his father.
Another look at the sickly figure on the bed told him there was still life. Though his body had begun to waste away, his father’s chest continued to rise up and down without any interruption. He was still breathing, for now, and as much as it pained Nicolas to think it, he hoped that it would continue to do so for many more weeks.
He sat there quietly contemplating everything, holding his father’s hand, for what felt like too little time. The only reason he looked up was because there was a quiet voice in the room.
His father’s eyes had opened. He was mumbling something incoherent to Nicolas, and almost looked as if he was trying to beckon Nicolas closer.
He got closer, hoping his father would have something more than just another ultimatum for him. His father’s voice was nothing more than a soft mumble, and he wondered what else he was supposed to be able to do. His father was dying; perhaps this was the declaration of his father’s final wishes.
“I-I… I want to spend… to spend my final days… days in the coun… country… countryside…” His father struggled to form the sentence in one coherent statement, but he eventually got it out of his mouth.
Nicolas wondered why he would do that. While he knew that there was little he could do to convince his father that that was a bad idea, he also knew he had to try to convince him.
“Father, you are incredibly ill. Have you thought about the possibility you could die on the road to the country estate and then we would only have to turn around and bring you home?” Nicolas questioned. “I do not believe ‘tis a good idea to embark on such a journey now, while you are so ill.”
“Nicolas.” His father gave him a stern look.
It was the same stern look his father had given him when he had tried to get out of going into the Navy three years ago. This was not going to be a good argument, and he knew that he should back down. For his father’s health and sanity, however, he did not.
“Father, I am serious. I do not believe the journey to the countryside would do you much good, and even if it did, we do not know how long it would be good for you. The doctor wanted you to stay here, and I think that is the best thing we can do right now,” Nicolas continued.
“Would you deny me… deny me my final wish?” His father managed to ask one more question.
He could tell his father’s strength was fading, and he wanted to be able to tell his mother that the conversation had gone well. So, despite everything he thought was good for his father and his health, Nicolas sighed.
“No, Father. I am simply looking out for your well-being,” he replied.
His father once again gave him a stern glare, and then continued to speak. This time, his words came more brokenly than before, but Nicolas understood the order. He was to get the carriage ready to leave the next morning.
His father would not take ‘no’ for an answer, and so they would go off to the countryside before he passed away. He wished to spend his final days surrounded by fresh air and beautiful trees, not the drudgery-filled sights of his Town bedchamber window.
In a way, Nicolas could understand that wish, but there was something more to it. He wondered if his father were also doing this to pull him away from Lady Catherine for as long as he could. It was dubious to believe that he would invite Miss Alexia Balfour to their country estate as this was supposed to be his father’s final moments, but Nicolas would not put it past his father.
His father would do anything to make sure that Nicolas continued to do his will after death.
He excused himself from his father’s bedchambers, and then Nicolas went to find his mother. He felt that his mother ought to be told what was going on, what his father wanted.
The housemaid and his mother were no longer right outside the door. The only other place his mother calmed down quickly in was the gardens, so despite the sun having gone down while he was with his father, he hurried out to the gardens.
The Ashwood Manor gardens were just as luxurious as the Camberton Manor gardens next door, but there was one spot that his mother had always been partial to. It was a small fountain hidden away towards Camberton Manor, and only those who had grown up or lived on Ashwood for a long time would know about.
That was where Nicolas headed.
His mother called it a fairy’s fountain because there was always moss and grass around it, when the other small fountains were always well taken care of. It didn’t matter how often they cut the grass or pulled the moss away, because it always came back.
His instinct had been right. His mother sat near the little fountain on one of the tea chairs she had had brought out here a while ago.
