The Wayward Heir Page 3

  “This is not about Juliette!” Philip barked, interrupting. Then suddenly put a hand to his forehead as the pain flared from the normal dull throbbing.

  “Then what is it about?” Fallbrooke demanded loudly. “When did you develop a conscience? That is what I would like to know.”

  Philip had known it had been at the house party at Castborough but he would never admit that to Fallbrooke.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes! You used to be ready for anything, a regular out and outer but lately you have wanted nothing to do with anything remotely enjoyable.”

  “Oh yes, ruining the reputations of the young ladies at social gatherings has always been high on my list of favorite activities.”

  “You did not seem to care a bit about that when you were playing with Lady Elizabeth.”

  “That was different,” Philip told him. He was so angry he could barely see straight.

  “Why? Because you did not bed her? It was not for lack of trying I am sure.” Fallbrooke stepped toward the door only to turn back. “You should be thanking me, though.”

  “And why is that?” Philip sneered.

  “I was talking to a very lovely young lady at Castborough. I could have had her at any point but I did not.”

  “Why would I care about that?”

  “It was pointed out later that she was your sister.”

  “Bastard,” Philip snarled gripping onto the corner of the desk.

  Fallbrooke held up his hands. “I backed off, although I must say it was most difficult. Lady Henrietta has quite the abundance of beauty and shall we say... charm.”

  Philip was screaming inside his head but only a strangled sound passed his lips. He took a step toward Fallbrooke but his legs felt like lead and his vision blurred. He had the sudden sensation that he was falling. Far away he heard someone call his name and then darkness descended.

  Chapter Five

  Caroline backed out of the darkened room shutting the door as quietly as possible. She let out a long sigh and then nearly screamed when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Are they all settled for the night?”

  Turning slowly, she found her mother standing in the hall. “Goodness, Mother!” Caroline whispered loudly. “You nearly gave me a fright.”

  “Oh dear, I am quite sorry. I just now came up the stairs and saw you in the hall. I thought you were just checking on the boys.”

  Caroline shook her head. “No, they have only just fallen asleep. I am glad that I was able to stifle my scream with my hand or they surely would have awakened. That would not have been good for any of us.”

  Her mother opened the door quietly, smiling sweetly as she looked in and then stepped back. “I think they will sleep quite soundly. They had a rather busy day.”

  “Yes, yes. They did indeed,” Caroline agreed.

  “Thank you for finding them and getting them settled. I am sorry that you missed out on the activities tonight. I am told the card party in the drawing room was quite enjoyable.” Her mother gave her a sad smile.

  “I am sure that it was.” Caroline had not wanted to attend the card party but her mother would never understand, so she kept it to herself.

  “I suppose you spent the night reading,” her mother stopped at the top of the stairs.

  “Actually, no, I did not.” Caroline frowned remembering that she had left her book next to the chair earlier in the day. “Simon was giving Miles and me a quite detailed account of how he got so muddy. That story took a while to tell.”

  Mother's eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hand to suppress her laughter. “That must have been very entertaining. I am somewhat sad that I missed it.”

  Caroline laughed. “Perhaps if you ask him he will put on a second performance. He seemed to enjoy the attention.”

  Her mother's soft laughter could be heard as Caroline descended the stairs. She paused at the landing listening for any noise downstairs preferring not to run into any guests. She had done well avoiding most of the activities connected with the house party. She had suspected that her mother had decided to have the party hoping Caroline would want to participate in other events of the Season. Her mother would never understand why Caroline wanted nothing more to do with London society. Although seeing Philip had been a nice surprise, it was people like Lord Fallbrooke that she had wanted nothing to do with.

  After listening for a few minutes, Caroline continued down the stairs. The room was shrouded in darkness, which was rather unexpected. She stopped for a quick moment to get her bearings. Father nearly always left the lamp burning in the library.

  She heard a noise across the room surmised that her father was still in the drawing room, probably arguing about relations with France or whether the Prince Regent would stay in London through the Season.

  Even with the nearly complete darkness, Caroline was able to navigate the room rather easily. She found her book on the table where she had left it earlier. She looked forward to reading for the next hour or so. Sleep still escaped her and reading had been the only way to occupy her mind until she fell asleep. Margaret, her mother's maid had made a habit of stopping at her room to make sure the lamp had been put out.

  As with most nights, Caroline held little hope that she would sleep well that night. Lord Fallbrooke's presence had seen to that. It was clear that the vain man had no inkling of how he had affected her life. In that respect, she was pleased he would never understand. She hated the idea of Fallbrooke knowing she had still not gotten over the events that had occurred over a year ago. She shook her head more to dispel the memories that were threatening to surface.

  She was almost to the door when she heard another noise. From her vantage point, she could tell it was coming from behind her father's large desk. Her first instinct was to go look behind the desk and then she froze. What if she had interrupted some late-night tryst between party guests? She backed up a step toward the door.

  She heard the noise again and for whatever reason, one that she, herself could not explain Caroline decided something was amiss and felt she must investigate. Cautiously, she went to the end of the desk and squinted into the darkness. At first, she saw nothing and gasped as she saw a pair of boots sticking out from behind the desk. They were a man’s boots and the man was not moving.

  “Oh Lord,” she whispered and moved to the other end of the desk to light the lamp. Once lit she held it out and gasped again

  “Philip!”

  She set the lamp down and rushed to his side. “Philip? What is the matter? Can you hear me?”

  At first, there was no response and Caroline feared the worst. Then his eyelids fluttered, not fully opening but surely a response to her questions. She reached down and took his hand in hers. “Philip, it is Caroline. Can you hear me?”

  His eyelids fluttered again before opening slowly, his head falling to the side to look at her. His eyes were glassy she wondered if he could see her at all.

  “Philip, I need to go get help. Do not worry. I will be right back.” She patted his hand and began to get up.

  “No,” he said so quietly she almost missed it but his hand grabbed hers again.

  “I must go,” she told him. His face is pale but his skin glistened. She put a hand on his forehead. “You are burning with a fever.”

  “No,” he said again when she moved to get up.

  “Philip, please,” she pleaded.

  “I do not wish to die alone,” he whispered.

  “Shh, now. You are not going to die.”

  “Always alone. Do not want to die.”

  “Philip, you are delirious.” He was still gripping her hand. “I will just go to the door and call to the kitchens. I will not leave you.”

  “Promise me. I do not want to be alone. Please do not leave me.”

  “I will stay with you, Philip. I promise.”

  He released her hand. “Thank you.”

  As she went to the door she heard him murmur, “Everyone leaves
me. Always alone. Do not want to die alone.”

  Chapter Six

  Caroline paced the hallway outside the old nursery. When Caroline had called for help no one quite knew what to do with Philip. After some discussion with several servants, Caroline had directed them to the recently vacated rooms in the old nursery. Miles and Simon had moved to a larger room upstairs the previous fall.

  “Any word from the physician?” Caroline's mother asked sitting down in the chair next to her.

  “No, he has been in there quite a while. I am becoming concerned.”

  Her mother patted her arm. “I am sure Mr Notley is doing everything he can to aid Lord Holgrave.”

  “I hope so.” Caroline kept thinking about Philip’s words to her. “I wish Mr Notley had let me stay with Lord Holgrave.”

  “Why ever for?” Mother asked sounding rather shocked.

  “Lord Holgrave was upset and had asked me to stay. I promised that I would not leave him, Mother.” She looked back to the door wishing the physician would come out soon.

  “I am sure he will not remember. Margaret said he seemed delirious.” Her mother sniffed delicately before saying, “Birks thought he was foxed, he is known to dip rather deep.”

  “No, he was burning up from a terrible fever.” Caroline turned back to her mother. “Birks assumed Lord Holgrave was drunk as a wheelbarrow and wanted to carry him outside to sleep it off. That is what he called it, anyway.” Her mother shook her head but Caroline went on. “I had to remind Birks that we were speaking about the future Duke of Castborough and depositing him unceremoniously in the garden of Stratford Manor would not be proper.”

  Her mother's eyes widened. “Yes, not the best way to treat the heir of Castborough and the poor man is ill. Possibly rather ill, considering how much time has passed since the physician arrived.”

  Caroline opened her mouth to speak but stopped when the door opened and the physician emerged from the room.

  “Mr Notley, how is he?” Caroline asked her voice wavering slightly.

  “Lord Holgrave is very sick. He is suffering from a horrible fever. The next few days will be very important on whether he will recover.”

  “Whether he recovers?” Caroline repeated.

  “Is it Scarlet Fever?” Mother asked quickly.

  “No, Lady Stratford it is not. In my examination of Lord Holgrave, I found no evidence of throat irritation or the rash that is most often found when a patient is suffering from Scarlet Fever.” The physician pursed his lips as though he was thinking about his next words carefully. “He is, however, extremely ill.”

  “Perhaps we should move him to London. Surely his family will want to...” Her voice trailed off as Mr Notley shook his head slowly.

  “I apologize but he is much too sick to travel anywhere. I fear he would die before reaching London and I am uncertain if his condition is contagious.” He shook his head again. “I am sorry but he must remain here.”

  Mother nodded, accepting the man's words. “What can be done for him?”

  “He will need to be cared for here. Someone will be needed to watch him. Right now, he is asleep, delirious from the fever. While he is currently weakened, I worry that he will hurt himself in his delirium.”

  Her mother glanced down the stairs. “I suppose I could ask one of the footmen.”

  “No,” Caroline blurted out. Birks had wanted to dump the man outside in the bushes, she could not abide the idea that he would or could care for Philip. “I will do it. I will care for Lord Holgrave.”

  She had promised to stay with him and after what happened to Nathaniel, Caroline could not walk away.

  Her mother turned quickly to her but before she could speak the physician said, “Very well. I will go downstairs to write down instructions for Lord Holgrave’s care. I will return in two days’ time to check on him. You can, of course, send for me if his condition worsens or if I am needed.”

  “Thank you, Mr Notley.”

  “Yes, thank you,” mother murmured. She moved to face Caroline after the man disappeared down the hallway. “I must say that I do not think it is proper for you to care for Lord Holgrave.”

  “Proper or not, I am going to do it.” Caroline crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her chin out. She was determined to keep her promise.

  “I do not think you have thought about this.” Her mother closed her eyes for a moment. “I am sorry but I cannot allow it.”

  Caroline wanted to shout at her mother but that would do no good. Instead she calmly asked, “And who shall you ask to care for him?”

  “Well,” her mother looked flummoxed, as though she had not really thought about it. “As I said, I shall ask a footman or one of the grooms.”

  “Do you think a footman or a groom is competent enough? As we mentioned before, we are speaking about the heir of Castborough.”

  “Yes, of course. Mrs Smythe then.”

  “Mrs Smythe is already too busy running the kitchens and house while we have a house full of guests. Will you be taking over for her then?”

  “No,” her mother's brow was furrowed. “Margaret could...”

  Caroline knew she would not finish because then who would clean the upstairs rooms. “Mother, there is no one else. Lord Holgrave may be contagious. Whoever cares for him cannot also be caring for the horses or moving about the house.”

  “I am worried, Caroline. I do not want you to become sick as well.”

  “That is perfectly understandable but Lord Holgrave, Philip, a childhood friend, is in their suffering. I must do what I can to help him.”

  “Caroline, I do not agree.”

  “Mother, the physician did not seem overly concerned when I offered to care for Lord Holgrave. Surely if there was any real concern he would have made mention of it.”

  “I suppose if Mr Notley is coming by often enough that any sign of sickness will be caught early.” Mother sank slowly into one of the chairs, her face creased in worry.

  “Lord Holgrave is resting in the nursery. I can sleep in the governess' quarters and still be close to him in case I am needed.”

  “I will have Margaret go in and make up the bed with fresh linens for you,” mother said seeming to come around.

  “That is fine, and I will need some things brought down from my room as I do not think it wise for me to move about the house once I begin carrying for Lord Holgrave.” She gave her mother a weak smile. “I am afraid I will not be able to keep an eye on the boys. I worry that if Lord Holgrave's condition is contagious it is more likely that they could become sick with the fever.”

  “Yes.”

  Caroline was sure that her mother had already begun to worry about that very thing.

  “Perhaps you could talk to Anna from the kitchens. She has younger siblings. I am sure she would enjoy keeping track of them. Birks or one of the grooms could aid her in keeping them out of trouble.”

  “That is a very good idea. The boys like Anna very much, she is very sweet but she does not let them get away with anything either.”

  Caroline smiled as she had seen for herself how Anna dealt with the boys. If they misbehaved and she heard about it then she would not save them any biscuits and cakes. Even when Caroline's father had inquired Anna had told Lord Stratford that the boys had misbehaved and worried Lady Stratford.

  “No sweets for either of them,” Anna had declared.

  Their father had agreed, much to the dismay of Miles and Simon. They had been sure to stay in her good graces for several days after that.

  “I believe it is our best solution,” Caroline agreed.

  “I will go speak to Mr Notley to ensure that he stops by more often to keep an eye on both Lord Holgrave, and you.”

  “Thank you, Mother.” Caroline touched her mother's arm. “I believe I will go look on Lord Holgrave.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Caroline slipped into the room not wanting to disturb Philip. Her worry was for naught though as he was clearly sleeping and could n
ot be awakened. She pulled a wooden chair with a padded upholstered back closer to his bedside.

  “Philip, I am here. You are very sick. I promise that I would not leave you. I hope you can hear me.”

  Philip turned his head and mumbled something she did not understand before falling silent once more.

  Chapter Seven

  Philip was awake but he had no idea where he was. His first thought was that he had drunk too much whiskey last night. Too tired to keep his eyes open for long he let them close and tried to remember what had happened the night before.

  As much as he thought he had no recollection of what he had been doing. Memories of Paris with Fallbrooke were foremost in his mind but that did not seem right. He vaguely remembered being in a coach with Fallbrooke but somehow, he thought they had been in England. It was possible that he was still in Paris which would explain why he did not recognize the room.

  He concentrated on opening his eyes again but the swift glance did not yield enough for him to recognize his surroundings. It seemed to be early in the morning as the light filtering through the windows was dim and it cast shadows all about the room. His vision blurred and then he was not so sure about the time of day. The longer he worried over it, the more confused he became. Drifting away again, he could not control his consciousness.

  Some time later, Philip awoke feeling poorly. His mouth was extremely dry and his head pounded. He moved his hand to push up from the bed and came to the sudden realization that he could not move. At first, he thought he was somehow being held down but soon it was clear that he lacked the strength to move. He tried again, his left shoulder lifted briefly before he collapsed back on the bed.

  Unable to quell the panic rising inside him, Philip tried to roll over but only managed to rock his shoulders. His breath had started to come in gasps and he closed his eyes trying to calm himself. It was then that he heard someone talking quietly. It took a considerable effort but he turned his head enough to see someone near the window. In the dim light, he could only make out the form of a woman, she looked upon him with the bluest eyes he had ever seen. The last thing he thought before sleep claimed him again was that an angel was watching over him.