How to Heal the Marquess by Sally Forbes
Chapter Twenty-eight
“Oh, Grandfather,” Tobias said, his voice quivering. He suddenly felt terribly self-conscious. What must Daisy think of him, speaking to a man buried so deep in feverish sleep? Tobias desperately hoped the duke could hear him. He had to believe that he could, because the idea that his grandfather might die before Tobias could prove he was fulfilling his promise was already tearing away at his insides.
“Grandfather,” he began again, finding the strength to speak with marginally more confidence. “If these are the last words you ever hear, please know that I mean what I say, about marrying Lady Selina. She was not quite the match I had hoped to find, as I will undoubtedly never love her. Indeed, it shall be a marriage of convenience, as is common amongst the ton. But I shall treat her well, and she shall have all the things and pleasures befitting a duchess. . .”
The sound of shattering glass startled Tobias, distracting him from the rest of his speech to his grandfather. He turned around to see Daisy kneeling on the floor, her face pale and distraught. He rose quickly and walked over to her, fearing she might be injured.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded, reaching with a trembling hand for a shard of the bottle that had crashed to the floor.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Please, forgive my clumsiness.”
“No, Daisy,” he said gently, reaching out to block the glass with his own hand before she could touch it. “That is, of course I forgive you. This is a trying time for us all. But do not trouble yourself with the glass, lest you injure yourself. I will send for a housemaid to clean up the mess.”
Daisy looked up at him at last, and Tobias could see there were tears in her eyes. The ache in his heart deepened and, for a moment, he could not catch his breath. He fought to do so before he did something foolish, like collapse and make things even more difficult for poor Daisy. Could it be that the duke’s condition was upsetting her so much?
Gently, he helped her to her feet and handed her a handkerchief. She tried to smile with gratitude, but her bottom lip trembled, and she turned her face away.
“Thank you,” she said softly with a sniffle.
Tobias nodded, even though she could not see him with her face turned from him. Though she was clearly distraught, she was keeping most of her wits about her.
Most women who were exposed to such extreme distress would either be sobbing uncontrollably or collapsing in hysteria. Yet Daisy merely wiped at her tear-filled eyes, then walked over to the duke’s bedside and began wiping his forehead with a damp cloth once more.
Tobias watched her for a moment, trying to think of something to say to her. Even though it was his own grandfather who lay on what very much appeared to be his deathbed, Tobias felt an overwhelming urge to comfort her. He found her sadness was not just touching; it was adding substantially to his own.
In fact, he soon realized it would bring him solace to offer comfort to her. He would have given anything to help ease her burden, but he only just managed to remember himself. With great effort, he turned and walked out through the door of his grandfather’s bedchambers, to fetch a maid to clean up the broken glass.
The day passed largely in silence, apart from Daisy asking Tobias to keep an eye on the duke whenever she needed to leave the room to fetch or prepare something.
Tobias longed to speak to Daisy, to spend the hours getting to know her, or discussing anything but the grim future which seemed to be fast approaching. But under the circumstances, he felt it was inappropriate. Besides, he had already decided he was going to marry Lady Selina.
It would be unseemlier still to converse with another young woman, even if she was tending to his ill grandfather. Still, he could not help stealing glances at her as they both stayed with the duke.
As evening settled in, Tobias opened his eyes to find he had dozed off in the chair beside his grandfather’s bed. He sat up quickly, searching the room for Daisy. In the fading light, he could see her sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the duke’s bed, fast asleep. He felt his heart thud in his chest as he gazed at her face, so peaceful in slumber.
The flames danced upon her skin, illuminating her face in a way he had never before seen. With her eyes closed, her long lashes rested against the skin beneath them like silk thread strands. Her cheeks were flushed the slightest pink, and her lips looked like red roses. Angelic, Tobias thought as he continued staring at the young woman. She looks almost angelic in this light.
A powerful urge struck Tobias to rise from his own seat and walk over to hers . . . and kiss her rose-red lips. He even imagined himself doing so, all thoughts of his plans to marry Lady Selina briefly forgotten. He knew it was entirely unacceptable, but the desire to do so was rapidly becoming far too great to ignore. However, just as he began to stand, the duke stirred and began to cough.
Tobias froze, now considering rushing to wake the doctor’s daughter for another, more urgent, reason. He stared at his grandfather, paralyzed with fear, as he prayed the duke was not about to pass. After another moment, Lord Berbrook opened his eyes and blinked. The coughing subsided, and he glanced around the room, his gaze sharpening when his eyes settled on Tobias.
“Toby,” he said. His voice was raspy and thick with sleep, but it was strong enough that Tobias could hear him without straining. “It is very late. You must go and get some sleep.”
Tobias merely gaped at his grandfather for a moment, genuinely shocked to hear the duke speaking again. Despite his denial and hopes, deep down he had already resigned himself to watching the older man pass, without ever hearing another word from his lips. Now, not only was he talking to him, but he was also fussing over Tobias, as though he were not the one at death’s door.
“Grandfather,” Tobias whispered. He cleared his throat and tightened his jaw, willing his emotions to return to his control. When he thought he could trust his voice, he spoke again. “You gave us quite a fright. We were not certain you would live through the night. You cannot truly expect me to leave you now.”
The duke raised his hand. It was a slow gesture, but when he waved it, he did so with more strength than anyone would have believed possible just moments before.
“Toby, my boy,” he said, causing Tobias to shudder at the rattle in his chest as he spoke. “You must not concern yourself with me so much. You have made it so that, whatever happens, I can rest easy knowing I am well loved. But what must be will simply be. There is nothing you can do to either aid or prevent it. Even our dear Daisy has done all she can. It is in God’s hands now. Now, please, go and rest, before you make yourself sick with worry and fatigue.”
Tobias shook his head firmly. He hated disobeying his grandfather, and under any other circumstance, he would not dream of it. But he knew this might well be the very last time he ever saw the duke draw breath. No amount of coaxing, or even threatening, from his grandfather would send Tobias away from him.
“Forgive me, Grandfather, but I cannot,” he said. “There would be no rest for me, even if I did leave. My heart tells me that I must remain at your side. Therefore, at your side, I shall remain.”
The duke looked as though he wished to protest further, but it was apparent that the very act of speaking was taxing on his weak body. He took several slow breaths with his eyes closed before looking squarely at Tobias again.
“You may stay until I next sleep,” he said, his words coming out in a ragged rush. “Then, you must retire to your bed.”
Tobias refused to agree with his grandfather. But nor would he lie to him. Instead, it occurred to him that he now had the chance to tell the duke anything he wished to say to him. Ideally, there were many things he would like to say to Lord Berbrook before he died, but there was thing that was the most important of all.
“Were you able to hear me speaking to you before?” he asked.
The duke gave a weak shrugging motion with one of his shoulders.
“I could hear your voice,” he said, “but your words sounded too far away for me to understand them.”
Tobias nodded, even more, relieved now that his grandfather had awoken when he did. He cleared his throat and held his grandfather’s gaze, mustering his resolve once more.
“I plan to marry Lady Selina,” he said quickly, not daring to risk losing the opportunity to ensure the duke heard him. “I made you a solemn promise, Grandfather. And now, you know that I am keeping it, just as you wanted.”
The duke nodded, the circles beneath his eyes suddenly appearing bruised against paling cheeks. Tobias waited for his grandfather’s reaction, certain he had given him the peace of mind he sought.
“That’s fine, Toby,” he said, his voice quickly growing weak, almost inaudible. “Do as you wish.”
Tobias felt no malice or disappointment in the duke’s words. But nor did he hear pride or happiness, or even relief. Tobias wanted to think that was because the elder man was so ill. But even though his voice was fading, his eyes were alert and focused. Surely, there would have been a flicker of something to indicate his feelings about his grandson’s announcement. Stunned, Tobias floundered for more words, taken aback that his grandfather seemed completely indifferent rather than pleased.
“Grandfather, I,” he began, but he stopped at once when he looked at the duke’s face once more. The nobleman’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was shallow and slow. Lord Bertram Berbrook was asleep again, and Tobias’s heart sank back into its pit of despair.
He tried shaking his grandfather’s shoulder gently and speaking his name aloud, but the man could not be roused. For a moment, he considered continuing to talk to the duke, as he had earlier. But he remembered what the old man had told Tobias about his voice sounding too far away.
So, at last, he simply sat back against his chair, put his forehead in his hands, and allowed his tears to silently fall.
