"She passed in the middle of the night. Not long after my father sent word out."
Those words were not Bryce's. They came from further up the staircase and Harriet looked up to find Byron walking down to meet them.
His face was strained and he looked tired although he seemed to be holding himself together far better than his younger brother.
"I am so sorry," Harriet said the words to them both but found herself clutching Bryce's hand just a little tighter.
"The doctor says there was nothing that could be done," Byron explained though his voice was edged in a way that told Harriet he did not believe the doctor.
"Do they know what it was?" Harriet asked, more out of concern than curiosity.
"Fever," Byron replied.
His answer made Harriet shiver all over again. She had heard terrible things of fevers sweeping through entire households in a matter of hours.
"Are the two of you well?" she asked, looking from Byron to Bryce and back again. The elder brother seemed to be the only one who was holding himself together enough to answer her.
"I don't believe you have any reason to fear." Byron shook his head.” The doctor didn't seem concerned for our wellbeing."
Harriet could only feel partly relieved by that.
"Harriet, would you accompany care to accompany us into the drawing-room for some tea?" Byron asked as he came to stand beside his brother. He hooked his arm under Bryce's and helped him to his feet. "I believe we are all in need of something to drink."
Harriet nodded and moved to Bryce's other side. She never once let go of his hand as she helped Byron guide him into the drawing-room.
Her friend seemed like an empty shell of his former self. He was overcome with grief.
"Is there anything I can do?" Harriet asked even as she helped Bryce down onto one of the couches where they had so often sat to read and play card games.
Although she sat beside Bryce, she couldn't help but watch Byron as he moved to the fireplace to pull the cord that would ring a bell in the kitchen to alert the servants to their needs.
The grief was clear on his face but he held himself in such a manner of self-control that Harriet couldn't help but admire him.
"There isn't much we can do, save for funeral arrangements," Byron said with a sigh and Bryce began to tremble at the mention of it.
As though sensing his brother's internal turmoil, Byron came to crouch before him, gripping his free hand while Harriet still clutched hold the other in both of hers.
"Everything is going to be alright, brother," he said softly.
Bryce's head whipped up then and he glared at Byron in such a way that it made Harriet shrink back a little.
"That is what you said last night!" Bryce snapped at him. "You said all would be well but it is not, is it? Mother is dead."
Harriet watched Byron closely as he sucked in a deep breath and she couldn't help but notice how handsome he had grown over the years. The obvious concern he held for his brother lent a softness to his features that she had never seen upon him before.
"I was wrong then but I must believe now that I am right," he said softly. "All must be well because we must carry on. It is what she would have wanted for us. She would not have wished to see you like this. We must be strong for her."
Harriet could see tears glistening in his eyes then, lending a light to his blue-grey irises that caused them to look as though there was a storm rolling into the wintry sky of his gaze.
Admiration for the older boy filled Harriet's chest and she suddenly knew that she need not have come. Byron would do whatever it took to take care of his younger brother.
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Once Upon a Dreamy Match: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 24
