How to Heal the Marquess by Sally Forbes
Chapter Twelve
Tobias started as his chin bounced off of his chest. He lifted his head quickly, rubbing his face and blinking against the heaviness of his eyelids. A glance out the window left Tobias disoriented, as it was pitch dark outside. And in the dim light of just a single candle that burned on the duke’s bedside table, Tobias could not see the clock on the wall opposite where he sat.
Based on how far the candle had burned down, he guessed it must be a couple of hours before sunrise. He shifted in the chair as quietly as he could, praying he did not wake his grandfather as he did so.
With his position changed, Tobias could now see his grandfather’s full face in the dim candlelight. His heart grew heavy as he saw how pale the duke’s face was and how gaunt his cheeks looked after only a couple of days of being ill. He did not regret spending the night watching over the duke.
What wounded him was his complete lack of ability to do anything for his beloved grandfather.
He had never felt as helpless as he did then, as he stared at the duke, and he had to will himself not to cry. To see such a powerful man bedridden and hopelessly ill was devastating, and Tobias began to wonder if he could bear to watch his grandfather die much as his father had.
Desperate, Tobias clasped his hands together before him and touched his forehead to them. Without any other notion of how he could help his grandfather, he took a deep breath and began to pray silently. He prayed for his father and that he might be there to help the duke in his time of need.
He prayed for a miracle to restore his grandfather’s good health to him. And he began to pray that, should the unthinkable occur, he would be able to fulfill the duke’s request and make him proud as the new Duke of Berbrook.
The final words of his silent prayer were cut short, however, as the duke made a weak grunting sound and shifted in his bed. Tobias held his breath as he looked back up at his grandfather, as surprised as he was glad to find the duke glaring at him.
“Tobias,” he said gruffly, wheezing as he took a breath. “What on earth are you doing in my bedchambers? It is the middle of the night.”
Tobias hesitated. He wondered if the fever had affected his grandfather’s mind so much that he did not remember collapsing, or the visits from the doctor in the days during which he had been confined to his bed. He did not want to alarm the duke if his memory was failing him, but nor did he want to lie to him.
“I was concerned about your health, Grandfather,” he said at last. “I took it upon myself to sit with you through the night.”
The duke’s face grew sterner still, but Tobias did not mind for the first time in his life. The expression gave him a semblance of the strong, tough man Tobias had always known, and he allowed himself to grab onto the smallest sliver of hope. If the duke could still be so assertive and strong, then there was a chance he could get better.
Lord Berbrook coughed, and Tobias’s hope slipped. But the cough was singular and soft, and the duke’s recovery was instant. He looked at his grandson, his expression undisturbed by the single cough.
“You need not concern yourself with me, my boy,” he said, his softening, even though his features did not. “Your worry is touching but unnecessary. I shall recover. And Dr. Gibson and his daughter are doing a marvelous job. They are more than capable of caring for me. I am feeling better already.”
Tobias wanted to believe his grandfather, especially since the older man did, indeed sound marginally stronger. But his face was still pale, and his fever had been making sudden spikes.
“They are a godsend, to be sure,” he said, reaching out to touch his grandfather’s arm, unaware that he was doing it to check for signs of fever until relief at the duke’s cool skin washed over him. “But as the future Duke of Berbrook, it is also my duty to ensure your well-being when you are unable to do so.” And I love you, he added silently. There is nowhere else I would be right now.
The duke looked at his grandson, his face at last beginning to warm. Tobias knew his independent grandfather would never wish to have any of his family fussing over him. But Tobias hoped he could at least appreciate the affection his grandson felt for him, which had prompted him to voluntarily watch over him rather than resent Tobias for going against his wishes.
“You are a good boy, Toby,” he said, wiping his own face with a cloth that rested on his chest. “And your devotion does not go unnoticed. However, you must spend this time thinking about finding a wife rather than worrying about me.”
Tobias stiffened instantly. In the madness since the day of his grandfather’s collapse, he had given little thought to his agreement to find a bride. He supposed that, deep down, he had believed his grandfather would forget the matter, with him being so ill. For a moment, Tobias wished that the duke’s memory had faltered, if only on that one specific subject.
“There will be plenty of time for that, Grandfather,” he said. “Now is the time to see that you get well.”
The duke shook his head firmly; yet another sign he was not as weak as in the days previous.
“Dr. Gibson and his daughter will see to that,” he said again, more firmly than the first time. “You must get out and mingle with the unwed ladies of the ton. In fact, if memory serves, I was due to attend a garden tea party later this morning, was I not?”
Tobias looked at the duke, confused.
“I believe so,” he said. “But you are not thinking of going in this state, are you?”
The duke chuckled as much as his weakened lungs would allow. He shook his head, taking a moment to catch his breath.
“No, my boy,” he said, wheezing. “What I mean is that you should go in my stead. Naturally, no one will expect me to attend. But I think that, given the circumstances, it would be appropriate for me to send you, instead. Besides, I believe it will be a chance for you in your endeavor to find a wife.”
Tobias felt his heart sink into his stomach. He had never wanted to attempt to find a wife less in his entire life than he did in that very moment. Part of him wondered how his grandfather could think of such things right then. But another part, the part he was trying to keep secret, even from himself, understood that the duke was pressing the matter because he knew how grave his condition was.
His death would mean that Tobias would take over the duchy, and he did not want his grandson to adopt the dukedom without having a good wife in prospect.
Rather than try to argue with his ill grandfather, Tobias merely nodded.
“Very well, Grandfather,” he said. “I shall attend the party for you.”
The duke nodded, pausing to cough for a moment, which caused Tobias to wince.
“Good boy,” he said between wheezes. “And I would also like you to attend promenade hour today. Consider it a personal favor between men.”
Tobias had to work to suppress the urge to shout at his grandfather. There was nothing more important to him than seeing the duke recover. How could he not understand the obligation Tobias felt to watch over him?
“That will mean I shall be gone all day, Grandfather,” he said, frowning and praying his grandfather would see reason. I think it would be best if I stayed here in the event that your condition takes a sudden turn.”
The duke shook his head in a manner that told Tobias that he would not be moved.
“Nonsense,” he said firmly. “You needn’t worry about me, Tobias. What I need you to worry about is the promise to me which I expect you to fulfill. Passing up any opportunity to take steps toward doing so would be negligent on your part, and it would be very disappointing to me. You would not want that, would you?”
Tobias looked at his grandfather and sighed. He knew his grandfather was actually trying to look out for him rather than make him feel ashamed. But that did little to assuage the guilt he felt at the duke’s words.
“No, Grandfather,” he said, resigned. “That is the last thing I would ever want.”
The duke nodded, giving his grandson a satisfied smile.
“That’s my good boy,” he said. “Now, off with you, Toby. I look forward to hearing all about your day when you return.”
Tobias forced a smile, choking back his emotions. He knew well that his grandfather might not still be with the living when he returned. But he could not bring himself to say the words aloud.
He knew, despite his grandfather’s tough demeanor, that he was likely just as afraid as Tobias and his mother were for his well-being. So instead, he simply gave his grandfather a gentle hug before turning to exit the room.
“I will tell you every detail,” he said.
When Tobias left the room, he made his way down the stairs. He normally detested dealing with business ledgers, even when they were his own. But that particular morning, having to tend to some of his grandfather’s work was just the distraction he needed to pull himself out of the dark pit despair into which he felt himself rapidly sinking.
He spent the rest of the morning tending to the duke’s ledgers. As he had hoped, Tobias found it comforting and helpful to spend his time productively. He was even able to make some notes he could take and discuss with his grandfather on a day when he was feeling more like himself.
He stood and stretched, glancing at the clock as he did so, and once more, he felt himself become weighted by burden. He had, indeed, spent the entire morning in his grandfather’s study. It was now time to make ready for the tea party. He sighed as he reluctantly exited the study and made his way to the staircase.
In a single act of protest, Tobias chose the plainest suit he possessed. That said little, as all his suits had been tailored for the finest events of the ton. But most of them had shirts or cravats in colors complimentary to the suits themselves.
However, Tobias felt as though he was in mourning, even though his grandfather was still alive. As such, he chose a solid black suit with a matching cravat. He also took his black boots and black gloves and added them to his attire.
When he was satisfied his outfit was as dark as his mood regarding attending the party, he looked at himself in the mirror. Even if only he noticed he looked more as though he was attending a funeral than a social event, he felt pleased with his minute rebellion.
He combed his ash-blond hair with his fingers before putting on his gloves, too depressed to make any real effort to comb it. Then, sullenly, he dragged himself down the stairs to wait for his mother.
