Page 61 of The Duke's Last Dance
“You must fix things with Lady Catherine before it grows too late for you to act on what your heart has told you,” he continued. “I understand if you resent me for what I have done. I was blinded by a need to control everyone and everything around me, and you should not have had to suffer that.”
Nicolas felt tears in his eyes.
These were not only words a man who has come to grips with the consequences of his actions would say, they were also the words of a man who knew he was dying. A man who knew his last breath would be sooner rather than later, and he wanted to make sure he was forgiven for what he had done – no matter how slim the chance seemed.
“’Tis all right, Father,” Nicolas whispered. “I forgive you for everything, and despite it all, I do love you. You are my father, after all.” He squeezed his father’s hand softly.
His father gave a weak smile to Nicolas, and then sat back against the pillows. He closed his eyes, and a soft rattle echoed through the room.
Nicolas sat there, holding his father’s hand, for a long time. He did not know exactly when his father drew his last breath, but he had to imagine it had been shortly after the smile he gave Nicolas. The only reason he realized his father had died was because his father’s hand grew colder in his.
His father had been given his final wish: he had died at Gracemere, enjoying the view from this window.
He pulled his hand away from his father’s and walked to the window. Nicolas had never understood what it was about this window that his father had so dearly loved. It was a window that faced away from Town, towards the seaside. They were still too far away from the coast to see anything; in fact, if anything, they had a better chance of seeing a bank or shore at Ashwood than they did here at Gracemere.
What this window did have a good view of was the gardens. The Gracemere gardens had been designed by his father, and he wondered if that was the reason he had wanted to die here. Nicolas knew how fond his father had been of the gardens here. He had many memories of having to walk with his father when the nanny was not available. They often went to the gardens, as it was a place where Nicolas could run and be as loud as he wished without having to worry about disturbing his mother or his father.
His father, on those days, would often take Nicolas to the little tea table that now sat abandoned and empty below him. His father would sit there and watch as Nicolas ran around or started to pick the flowers.
He smiled a little. Though not everything had gone right as he had grown up, he knew that he had grown up in a loving family. If that had not been the case, then he would not have been given permission to go after Lady Catherine and marry her, provided he could fix the damage his father had caused.
“Owen?” Again, a voice interrupted his thoughts.
He looked towards the door, and saw that his mother had come in.
“I am sorry, Mother… he is dead,” Nicolas said.
Saying it out loud, having to tell someone else that his father was dead… it had solidified it for Nicolas more than anything else he had done since coming into the room.
He took in a deep breath as he walked closer to his mother. Hearing that his father was dead would not help her, but he knew that she needed to hear it as much as he had needed to hear it from himself. It would simply not get any easier to handle if they did not come to terms with it sooner rather than later.
His mother buried her face in her hands. Sobs echoed in the bedchamber.
Nicolas put his arms around her, and he hugged her close to him.
“’Twill be all right, Mother. He went peacefully.” He tried to calm his mother, but he knew that was asking for trouble if he could not do it properly. His father had been the only one who was ever able to really calm his mother down, but that would soon change.
He did manage to calm her down. She wanted to see the body, but he did not think it a wise decision to let her see the body. Regardless, he showed her the body. She did not burst into tears again, but he could tell she was close to doing so.
“We must make arrangements to bury him and get him back to Town. He would want to be buried there.” His mother spoke quietly.
“Yes, Mother, and we will. For now, please, let us get some fresh air. You have been inside all day, and I believe the fresh air will do you good.” Nicolas looked at his mother with a pleading look.
She sighed, and they walked outside together.
As much as it pained Nicolas, he knew that they would have to return to Town sooner than she wanted to return. His mother would only want to return after arrangements and things had been made for his father’s funeral.
“Mother, what if I go ahead to Town?” Nicolas spoke suddenly. “I could begin preparations for the funeral while I am in Town, and I could write you weekly on what is going on.”
“I do like that idea. Would you be taking your father with you?” His mother pursed her lips.
“If you would like me to, I am sure I could find somewhere for him to stay while I am doing all of this,” he replied. “But I would need to inquire first, so he could not come immediately.”
“’Tis fine, Nicolas,” she said. “If you wish to go on ahead to Town, then you may.”
“Thank you, Mother,” he said with a smile.
After making sure there was a housemaid with his mother in case she needed the emotional support, Nicolas returned to his room. He started to pack his trunk.
