by Vikki Vaught
His father leaned against the back of his chair, his shoulders sagged, not even coming close to resembling the strong, vital man he had always been. “I’m not a well man. I need you to take over running the ducal holdings. It has been difficult since Nelson became ill. Can I count on you?”
He leaned forward. “Of course. I do need to ask. Why did you allow my wife to leave and then fail to keep track of her?”
His father sighed deeply, and a look of regret flashed across his face. “You cannot understand how the news of your death affected us. Your wife was devastated when she learned of your demise. Nelson tried to convince her to stay, but she refused and insisted she wanted to go to her parents.”
“I suppose I can understand why,” He looked away to hide the emotions coursing through his veins. He had counted the days ever since his memory returned. He had anticipated and dreamed of seeing Melody again and holding her in his arms.
The duke looked him straight on. “I admit I did not treat her well. She was not my choice. I should have trusted your judgment more. Helen continued to write her for quite some time, even after your wife stopped answering.”
Henry stood and began pacing the room. “Well, I need to go to her. She’s my wife, and I want her back.”
“I understand you want to go, but I ask that you wait. Nelson will not make it much longer, and he needs you. You have always been so close. I also need to show you what is involved with managing the ducal holdings. Come here in the morning, and I will begin.”
He wanted to yell and kick his feet in frustration but kept his composure. While he hated the delay, he did need to be with his brother as he faced his last days. Melody would understand. “I know I need to be with Nelson until…the end, then I will go get my wife.”
Relief showed in his father’s eyes. “I appreciate your willingness to wait until after your brother,” his voice broke, “is gone.”
Henry wearily rose and left his father in his study, then went to his suite. When he walked into the sitting room, all the memories of his wife came flooding back. In his mind, he could see her sitting on the couch reading a book.
How will I find the patience to put off going to her?
She meant everything to him, but so did his brother. He worried Melody had gone on with her life. She could have even met someone and married again, since she thought he had passed.
Oh God, please not that.
As hard as it would be, he could not leave Nelson. Now, he needed to use the patience he had learned while living with the monks. He could at least write to her, letting her know of his return and assure her he would come as soon as...
He fell to his knees and clasped his hands together, then closed his eyes and bowed his head. “God, why, why do You need Nelson? We need him. Please, I beseech Thee…produce a miracle and let him live.”
He continued praying for his brother. Tears streamed down his face. He prayed for the strength to accept God’s will. He prayed for patience to wait before going to his wife. After his tears were spent, he slowly stood.
The next day, he spent most of it with his father, learning estate management, and visited with Nelson briefly in the afternoon. That set the pattern for his days over the next week.
He struggled with thoughts of Melody each night, burned to see her and make love to her again. When he did sleep, erotic images of the two of them together filled his dreams. He awoke every morning hard as stone. Although, it was not only making love he missed. He missed talking to her. He remembered the wonderful times they shared, especially the time in Canterbury. They had grown so close. Surely, she had not forgotten him.
It is such a puzzle.
Why did she stop writing?
Well, it would serve no useful purpose worrying over it, because he could not do anything until Nelson—
Oh, the pain of it.
Why did Nelson get this terrible disease?
For the few days, he spent his mornings with his father going over the books regarding the ducal holdings. Each afternoon, he visited Nelson and spent the evenings with the rest of the family.
A week after he had returned home, he went for his usual visit with Nelson. He was having a particularly good day so they were able to have a longer talk than usual.
Nelson looked at him and smiled, looking more like his former self. “I’m sure you’ve seen a change in Father. It started after we received the news of your death. It hit him hard. I think it opened his eyes to the fact he was way too hard on you. I know he’s thrilled you have returned.”
“I’m amazed at the change, to be quite honest,” he replied. “I’m not bitter, but he did make my youth a living hell at times. Too bad it took my supposed death to wake him up.”
“Better late than never,” Nelson joked, then grew somber. “I appreciate you staying with me. I’m sure it must be difficult having to wait before you go for Melody.”
Leave it to Nelson. He always reads me so well. “I would never leave until you don’t need me anymore. I know she would want me to stay.”
“Poor Melody. She was so lost without you,” he explained. “I know it’s hard to understand why she stopped writing. I think it grew too difficult for her emotionally. I know she has not forgotten you. If you have wondered about that, let me put your mind at ease.”
He leaned forward in his chair. “I needed to hear that. I’m so afraid she may have moved on and forgotten me. Melody means the world to me. I can’t wait to see her again.”
“You will see her soon.” Nelson met his gaze. “I owe you a huge debt of gratitude for introducing me to Mary. She’s the light of my life. Promise me you will take care of her when I’m gone. I’m so thankful we had our daughter Angela before I became so ill. I’m glad we had this chance to talk.”
As Nelson struggled with his pillows, he stood and helped him get comfortable. “Anything you need. You know I’m willing to do it. I appreciate you taking care of Melody. I’m sure returning to her parents was best for her. I do wish she had continued to write our sisters so I would know how she fared.”
“I know it’s hard to understand, but I’m sure she’s fine.”
He looked at his brother, then grinned. “I told you Mary would be right for you. I can tell you love each other deeply. Melody and I used to hope you would fall in love again. You deserved to have someone in your life like Mary, and your daughter has stolen my heart. Don’t be concerned. I will take care of your entire family when the time comes.”
“Henry, go easy on Father. He’s struggling with this, and he’s getting up in years. I think my illness has been particularly hard on him, and it has affected his health.”
After he finished speaking, he closed his eyes and slumped against the pillow. Obviously, their conversation had become too much for him in his weakened condition. “You’ve grown tired. I shall take my leave of you. Until tomorrow, old friend.”
Nelson took a turn for the worse the next day. The doctors had to put him on a high dosage of laudanum, so he slept most of the time. Mary only left his side to visit the children.
On the tenth, his brother passed away. In some ways, it was a relief to know he no longer suffered, but it did not make it any easier to lose him. Henry had been with him when he took his last belabored breath. Pain shot through his heart, piercing his soul. His wife collapsed and had to be carried to her room.
Nelson’s death devastated poor Mary, to the point where she refused to eat. Roderick had a difficult time accepting his passing. After all, Nelson had been the only father he had ever known. Little Angela was too young to understand what had happened.
On the day of his brother’s funeral, it rained, and the sky held a multitude of dark clouds. Mary silently wept throughout the service. They entombed him in the family mausoleum, and everyone in the village and all the tenant farmers came out to show their respect. Many members of the ton traveled from London to attend. So many people loved and respected Nelson. Many a tear was shed that day.
It
took a fortnight, after Nelson’s funeral, before Henry could finally go to Melody. He decided to stop in London and talk with her aunt first. She would know what was going on with his wife.
The rain he encountered caused the ruts in the road to deepen, and his mount had to wade through deep puddles. The trip took eight hours instead of the normal five, and his wet clothing clung to him. Even his great coat did not protect him from the drenching. When he arrived in London, he went straight to Montgomery House.
After he called for a bath, he removed his clothes. A footman arrived to prepare the tub. Then he dismissed him. While he soaked, he decided to go to his club and find some of his friends. After all, it was too late to visit Lady Helton.
Henry stepped from the tub and dressed for the evening, then headed to White’s. He wondered if his membership would still be good, since he was supposed to be dead. He also wondered what type of reception he would receive from his friends, especially Weston and Hayden.
He arrived at White’s at seven. The majordomo questioned his membership. The manager of the club verified he’d been a member, so they let him enter. He strolled into the main room and looked around.
He spied Weston at a table near the bookcases and walked over. “Good evening, Weston.”
His friend looked up and nearly dropped his drink. “My God, I must be seeing things! You’re supposed to be dead. Hayden told us he saw you fall. He even brought your body back.”
Henry cocked a brow. “I don’t know whose body he brought back, but it wasn’t mine…as you can see.” He explained what had transpired since the battle, telling him of his amnesia and his time with the monks. “Once my memory returned, I came home as fast as possible.”
Weston grinned broadly. “It’s great to see you, my friend. What an amazing story. Sorry to hear of your brother’s passing. I missed the funeral, because I returned from the continent the same day.”
A sharp jab of pain sliced his heart. “Thank you. I’ll miss Nelson. As you know, we were very close.”
His friend commiserated with him. “He will be missed by many. Have you seen anyone else since your return?”
“You’re the first, other than family and servants. I’ve come to town to speak with Melody’s aunt. Since she stopped communicating with the family, they have no recent knowledge of her.” Waves of anxiety swept through him, so strong he had to grip his fists to keep his hands from shaking. “All they know is that she went to her parents when she thought I died. They haven’t heard anything from her in ages. Have you heard anything?”
Weston shook his head. “I only know she was completely undone by the news. I talked with Susan Wilton, who is now Lady Hastings by the way. She would only say your wife was recovering and leave it at that. I got the impression she wanted to cut all ties to anyone she had known here in London.”
Henry took the seat across from Weston and poured a glass of brandy. “I’m counting on Lady Helton for information. Hastings’ family seat is in Kent, is it not?”
His friend took a sip of his brandy, then sat the glass down. “Yes, I believe they have already arrived in town. You may want to speak with her. She knows more but will not say anything.”
He straightened and wondered what Susan might know. “I appreciate the information. I’ll try to talk to Lady Hastings, as well as Lady Helton. Do you have any plans for dinner? I haven’t eaten since this morning, and I’m famished.”
As his friend adjusted his waistcoat, he said, “I planned to go to Lady Millet’s soiree, but I would rather spend time with you, unless you want to go with me.”
Henry shook his head. “I’m not ready to face the ton yet, and I’m also in mourning for my brother, so it would not be a good idea.”
His friend clapped him on his shoulder. “Well, let us find a quiet corner and order dinner. Then you can tell me what you’ve been doing for the last two and a half years.”
The next morning, he went to Lady Helton’s. Unfortunately, she was on an extended trip to the continent and would not return for two months. Then he went to Lady Hastings’ residence. She was not at home either and would be unavailable for the rest of the day. At least she was in town.
After that disappointment, he went to see his solicitor. He needed to send the funds he borrowed from Father Francis. At least the man was in his office, and his clerk immediately showed him in.
Mr. Cook looked up when he walked in. “My lord!”
Henry gave the man a brief account of the last three years. “I need to send money to Father Francis.” He handed him a slip of paper with the pertinent information on it. “When was the last time you heard from my wife?”
Mr. Cook nervously said, “I haven’t heard from her at all, my lord. In fact, she hasn’t used any of her allowance since you departed—”
Henry jumped from his seat, sending his chair tumbling. “What? Did you not contact her when you received word of my death?”
The man wiped his sweaty brow with a handkerchief. “Things were quite confusing at that time. Once I cleared everything up, I wrote her but never received a response.”
He clenched his fists to rein in his anger, although he wanted to plant his solicitor a facer. “Deuce take it! This is unacceptable.”
“I’m sorry, my lord,” he pleaded. “Without direction, I did what I thought was best. I continued to manage your investments for your estate. They have continued to grow remarkably well. You will be well pleased.”
“I don’t give a damn about my investments,” he sneered. “I want information regarding my wife.”
“There is no need to raise your voice.” Mr. Cook went to his safe, pulled out a file and a worn leather bag of coins, then handed it to him. “Everything’s in here, my lord. The rest of your funds are in your bank. Again, I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch with your wife.”
Henry snatched the items from the man. “Just send the money to the priest. I shall be moving my business to another solicitor. Expect to hear from my new man of affairs.” He threw open the door and stomped out.
By the time he reached the street, his knees barely held him up. His hands shook, and his heart raced. No telling what had happened to her.
Why would she quit accessing her allowance?
Well, hopefully Susan would be able to give him information regarding Melody. He would go to see her first thing in the morning. When he returned to Montgomery House, a messenger had arrived from Sanderford Park.
His father had suffered an apoplexy!
His mother needed him home immediately.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
He thanked God the storm clouds never broke, and he made it home in record time. He dashed up the stairs and rushed into the house. Simpson met him at the door and informed him that the duchess was upstairs with his father.
He took the stairs, two at a time, and went to his father’s chamber. He entered and found his mother beside the duke’s bed, his father lying there, not moving. She stood and motioned for him to step out of the room with her.
His mother had dark circles under her worried eyes and new lines around her mouth. “Your father’s condition is grave. His doctor says the apoplexy has weakened his heart. He has called for you, but he is resting at the moment. Go sit with him so you can talk when he awakens. I need to freshen up. I have barely left his side since it happened.”
“Please, go get some rest. You need to keep up your strength. Where are my sisters?” He glanced at his father through the cracked door as he waited for her to answer.
His father looked diminished, much smaller than he usually looked, and much older. He had deep lines all over his face, with dark circles under his eyes. The change in his father in just a few days shocked him.
His mother sighed. “I sent them to bed an hour ago. I think I will rest for a while. Send for me if there is any change.”
Henry sat by his father, and all through the night he prayed. The duke finally awoke the next morning but was too weak for conversation. He told him he would
be there whenever he felt up to talking. He fell back to sleep, and he continued to watch over him.
His mother returned and suggested he get some rest. She would sit with his father. Everyone took turns sitting with him, but he never awoke again. The seventh Duke of Sanderford passed on the fifth of April.
They held his funeral three days later. Many of the ton and all of the tenant farmers and villagers attended. His mother remained composed, never allowing anyone to see her grief, while his sisters kept sniffling. Even though the duke had been difficult and distant, he had still been their father.
He…was now the eighth Duke of Sanderford.
He spent the next fortnight going over everything to do with the dukedom with Stallings, his father’s secretary. He was relieved to find the holdings in excellent condition.
Thank God he’d spent time with his father when he first arrived. He was much more aware of the magnitude of his responsibilities than he would have been if he had not.
His mother and sisters were distraught over his father’s death. He had no time to grieve because he had so much to do. He had to travel to the various estates in the dukedom. Again, this kept him from going to Melody.
It took him three weeks to visit his properties. When people called him “His Grace”, it startled him, and he was not sure he could get used to that. He never expected he would have to take on the responsibilities of the dukedom. He finally made it to Doncaster Stables on the fifteenth of May. He had saved it for last, since the property was closest to Lincolnshire.
At last, he could go to Melody. The rain made travel excruciatingly slow, taking him eight hours to get to Little Smythington when it normally only took six. He arrived too late to go to her house, so he spent the night at the local coaching inn.
Even though exhaustion had him reeling, he tossed and turned, unable to find his rest. His upcoming reunion with Melody kept playing in his mind. She must have been shocked when she received his letter. He longed to hold her in his arms again.
