Page 90 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“Are you well, Your Grace?”
Nicholas waved his hand and stumbled toward the staircase.
I will be well after I sleep,he told himself.Then I shall spend some much-needed time with Rose and the children.
The fatigue had set in midway home from Sommersail and it had taken everything in Nicholas’ power to stay awake.
“Your Grace, you seem peaked,” Peter commented from his place inside the coach. “Perhaps you should rest.”
“Nonsense,” Nicholas yawned, trying to focus on the mound of paperwork in his lap. “There is work to be done.”
If it had merely been Peter in the carriage, Nicholas might have entertained the idea of taking a nap but with Balfour accompanying them, he did not wish to show weakness.
The tension mounting between the men was almost tangible and while they had not addressed the issue directly, Nicholas was certain that the captain was very clear on his sentiments regarding his mother.
Mere moments from Rosecliff, Nicholas felt his eyes grow too heavy to bear any longer and he was fast asleep as the carriage arrived at Rosecliff.
“We should be on time for supper,” Balfour commented but Nicholas barely heard him as he fumbled his way through the grand foyer and toward the stairwell, only to be intercepted by Theodore.
“Your Grace, I will have a plate brought to you.”
His voice seemed to float in and out of Nicholas’ mind and as he made the seemingly impossible journey to his apartment, the duke was shocked he did not fall flat on his face.
I have never been in such a state in my life,he thought in disbelief.Not even when I have been in my cups! I am working much too hard. This cannot continue.
He did not remember falling face-down into his bed, the door to his chambers wide open as he fell into a desperate slumber.
His dreams were vivid and lucid, all the characters in his life present.
Peter Alderson stood over his bed, shaking his head and sighing.
“Good heavens, Daniel, you wasted perfectly good laudanum on him.”
Captain Balfour appeared, leering at his side.
“I did not. Twas you who did not give him enough to fall unconscious in the carriage.”
“What shall we do now?” Peter mumbled, his voice faraway and strange.
“He is fine. Leave him be. Did you not hear the duchess? Her little boy needs his rest.”
The men floated out of his dream state, laughing before, leaving him to imagine Rose, peering down at his sprawled frame in horror.
“Your Grace!” she whispered, shaking his shoulder. “Are you ill?
Her face was a mask of fear and confusion as she glanced over her shoulder, her long braid touching the sweet curve of her waist as she moved.
You are so lovely, Rose. Thank you for entering my life and permitting me to enter yours,he told her.
“Come now,” she sighed but he could not understand what she was doing until he felt his shoes slip from his feet and his body twist to lay securely over the mattress.
“Am I dreaming?” he asked her but she did not seem to hear him. Suddenly, she was gone and he was sucked into a darkness so black, he was certain he had died.
His father appeared, shaking his head ruefully.
“Nicholas, what have you permitted to happen in your house?” he asked.
“Father!” the young duke cried, rushing toward the only thing he could see in the dimness. “Father, you are here!”
