Page 53 of The Duke's Last Dance
After the conversation they’d had at the wedding, that would not have surprised her but for one detail: he still had to make sure that his father was happy if he wanted his inheritance.
Perhaps he had come to tell her of his plan to get out of marrying Miss Alexia, or to tell her that no matter how much he had tried so far, he couldn’t get out of it – yet. She knew his heart, and she knew his word was important to him. If he had promised he would marry her, he would marry her.
This thought comforted her as she hurried down the stairs without tripping. It was harder than it seemed in her long skirt, but she made it down to the entryway.
Her heart skipped when she saw Nicolas’s expression. It was grey and grim. He looked as though he had barely slept the night before, with his hair disheveled and his clothing all in disarray.
“Nicolas…” She could not find the proper words to ask him what had happened. “Are you all right?”
It was the best she could muster, and that was enough for Nicolas, it seemed.
“May we speak in the gardens, Catherine?” He asked. “I… I have something important to tell you, and… and I do not believe it should be something overheard by other staff.”
“Of course. Let me ring for Miss Amelia.” Catherine nodded slowly as she spoke.
Whatever it was, Nicolas needed to talk to her. She knew that much. So, she rang for Miss Amelia to escort them in the gardens.
Nicolas made no attempt to discourage her from doing so. Perhaps that was because of the way she had reacted the last time he tried to talk to her in the gardens alone, and the fact that he had walked away when it looked as though they were about to be caught alone without a chaperone.
Miss Amelia arrived soon enough, and they walked into the garden. Her handmaid was respectful enough to give them the distance that they wanted, but she was still within sight of them.
Catherine turned to Nicolas after a few moments. They had come to the gazebo, and he had gone rather silent.
She turned behind to face Miss Amelia.
“Will you give us some privacy, please, and wait out here while we speak in the gazebo?” Catherine asked.
Her handmaid simply nodded, and Catherine took Nicolas into the gazebo.
“Nicolas… what is going on?” She turned to look at him, and she knew, she knew, that there was something wrong. He did not seem ready to say anything, but she wondered what else he could have done to keep himself calm.
“My father has asked that… that we leave for the countryside. He is gravely ill, and the doctor is worried that he will not survive the trip.” Nicolas finally said something after long moments of silence.
“I…” Catherine found that she had no words for what was going on. “I’m so sorry, Nicolas. When do you leave?”
“We… we will be leaving in a few hours. I thought it best to tell you in person this time,” he said with a soft chuckle. There were tears in his eyes, and she could tell that he was struggling to keep himself composed for her sake.
She would not have cared if he had let those tears fly right then and there. She knew that it would have helped him more than he would believe, and she knew that he would never cry in front of someone else because he did not like the way it felt.
“How long will you be gone?” She knew there was nothing more she could say but talking of the plans to take his father to the countryside did not help. She wanted to know that there was something she could say that would take his pain away.
But she knew that wish was be in vain, for there was nothing she could do to take the pain of losing someone away until years after they had been lost to whatever cause would take them.
“I…I do not know. I wish I could give you a definite time, but… but I do not know. My father wishes to pass away in the countryside. It could be days… it could be months.” Nicolas shook his head, his voice dropping to a whisper.
There was nothing more she could say.
She wanted to tell him that it would all be okay, that his father would get better, but… but she did not want to give him false hope for the future. She did not want to be the one that made it harder when his father eventually passed away, and when that happened she wanted to be there for him.
“I will write to you every week until you return, then,” Catherine said.
She took his hand as she felt her own tears starting to run.
She had just realized how much she loved him. That thought alone made her want to accompany him to the countryside just so that he could have someone there to help him with the emotions that were sure to come flying through.
“I will look forward to those letters every week, Catherine,” he whispered.
He put a hand to her cheek and wiped her tears away.
