by Aston, Alexa
And love. He would tell her how much he loved her. Gray would make sure his children—and Harriet and Jane—knew they were loved. Not spoiled but given the right amount of attention. Even a little coddling.
He glanced at her note again, guilt filling him at the happiness her news had brought. A child’s death was a high price to pay for such happiness. Gray would always remember his nephew. He would go to him now. Remain at Gray Manor for a while. And when an appropriate amount of time had passed, he would speak to Charlotte of his feelings.
Leaving the study, he returned to his suite of rooms and rang for Parker. The valet appeared within minutes.
“You need to pack our things, Parker. We are returning to Gray Manor.”
“For how long, Mr. Grayson?”
“Indefinitely. I plan to spend a good portion of the year there from now on.”
As the new earl, he would take his place in the House of Lords and thus be expected to spend some months in London. The very parties and balls he dreaded would now become events he wished to attend, his beautiful wife on his arm. Charlotte would love London. She and the girls would thrive here.
“Very good, sir. When will we leave?”
“First thing in the morning. That should give you plenty of time.”
“I’ll start at once,” Parker said.
Gray left and returned downstairs. He spoke to the butler and housekeeper, explaining that he would be spending several months in the country and not return to the city until spring. He assured them they would remain on, as would the staff currently in place. If his family were to spend part of the year in London, it would help to keep the servants employed year-round.
Going to the stables, he found Sable and told his head groom he’d be returning to Gray Manor in the morning and wanted the coach and Titan ready.
“I’ll be gone for a good while, Sable. Make sure that all of the horses are exercised at regular intervals.”
He doubted he should keep on the coachman but knew the single salary wouldn’t be a problem. Better the man have a roof over his head and be in place to serve than trying to locate a new one whenever he returned.
Gray dined alone and then went to the library. Perusing the shelves, he took two volumes to his room. One told of Arthurian legends and the other was a history of the Roman Empire. He would bring these to Rodger. If the boy was too weak to read them himself, Gray would read them aloud to him.
By the time he returned to his chambers, Parker had everything ready to go for tomorrow’s travels. The valet left and Gray climbed into bed. For the first time in many months, no nightmares came.
*
Charlotte sat at Lord Crampton’s bedside. He rested peacefully now, thanks to the dose of opium she’d administered several hours ago. The boy grew weaker each day. He’d asked her to write to his uncle and let him know about the situation. She did so, knowing Gray would come at once. She thought she’d prepared herself for his arrival.
Until he entered the room.
Her body stilled, aware he was there, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. She felt his presence. Smelled his cologne. Wanted to reach out and touch him. How foolish she’d been to think she could lock her heart away. Where Gray was concerned, she had no strength. No willpower.
Charlotte rose and slipped her hand from the boy’s. She crossed the room to where Gray stood inside the doorway.
“He’s resting peacefully now. Dr. Winston has prescribed opium to help him sleep. It’s the only thing that quietens his cough.”
Gray looked to his nephew and back to her. “How long does he have?”
“A few days is Dr. Winston’s best guess.”
The stoic features gave way to a brief sadness and then once more he was in control of his emotions.
“I’ll leave you with him. Mrs. Minter is here if you need anything. I need to return to the girls and their lessons.”
She watched him move slowly toward the bed and take the seat she’d vacated. Gray took Rodger’s hand in his. The other caressed the boy’s brow tenderly.
Knowing the earl was in good hands, Charlotte returned to the schoolroom. Betsy quietly slipped out and Charlotte sat, looking over the work the girls had completed during the last hour of her absence. While Jane busied herself correcting spelling errors by writing the words ten times, Charlotte helped Harriet solve a difficult multiplication problem.
“How is Rodger?” Jane finally asked.
“The same.”
She’d allowed the girls to briefly visit their brother each day and now said, “Your brother is very ill. I know it’s upsetting to you. If you don’t wish to see him anymore, it’s all right.”
Harriet grew thoughtful. “It hurts my heart, Miss Nott, when I seem him struggling to breathe. But I think we should go see him at least one more time. To say goodbye.”
“I think that’s a wise decision.” She paused, knowing she needed to prepare them regarding Gray’s return. “Your uncle has arrived this morning.”
Harriet slammed her palm against the table. “Why? He doesn’t care about Rodger.”
Charlotte placed her hand over the girl’s. “You’re wrong. I think he does. A great deal. He is hurting just as you and Lady Jane are.”
“Do I have to talk to him?”
“I won’t have you behaving rudely, Lady Harriet, especially to your own flesh and blood.” She softened her tone. “You should politely answer any questions he asks you but you don’t have to initiate conversation with him.”
“Good.” Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
“We’ll go see Lord Crampton after luncheon then as we usually do,” she suggested.
“Can I be nice to Uncle Gray?” Jane asked. “I want to talk to him.” She glanced to her sister and then looked away.
“If you wish,” Charlotte said.
Harriet glared at her sister but Jane merely went back to her spelling corrections.
Charlotte wondered if she would be able to keep a fragile peace in the house so young Rodger could pass without obvious conflict.
Chapter Twenty
Gray helplessly watched as Rodger continued to cough. Nothing seemed to give the boy relief. He tried giving his nephew something to drink but he only choked on it. His breathing was rapid and his eyes reflected pain. He didn’t know how much more Rodger could take. Mrs. Minter had offered more opium but the young earl refused to take it.
“Why?” Gray asked the older woman.
“His sisters come to visit each day around this time,” Mrs. Minter revealed. “If he takes the opium, he’ll sleep through their visit.”
“Want . . . to . . . see them,” Rodger wheezed and began coughing again.
“Is there nothing else we can do?” he asked, frustration building within him.
The woman shook her head sadly. “No, Mr. Grayson.”
He wondered how his nieces would react to his presence. Surely, Charlotte would have warned them he had returned to Gray Manor. In particular, he worried about Harriet. She was the spirited one, much more volatile than her quiet sister. If she grew angry, Gray would leave the room so as not to agitate her or Rodger.
Minutes later, Harriet and Jane arrived with Charlotte. His older niece refused to meet his eyes but Jane came and wrapped her arms about his waist as he stood. He smoothed the girl’s hair and kissed the top of her head.
“I’m glad to see you, Uncle Gray,” she said.
“I am very happy to see you, Jane.”
Harriet’s gaze cut to them. She glared at her sister as if she were a traitor and then gave Gray a hard look before turning back to her brother.
By now, Charlotte had come close to the bed, standing with Harriet on the opposite side from where he and Jane stood. She stroked Rodger’s hair lovingly.
“Hurts,” the boy managed to say.
“Your chest?”
He nodded.
“And your neck?”
He wheezed what Gray thought was a yes to her question. T
he wheezing sounded when he breathed both in and out and the coughing continued.
Charlotte sat on the bed and began kneading his neck. She said, “Your brother’s neck and chest muscles hurt. Dr. Winston called this retractions. I’m hoping massaging them will help.”
“I can help.” Jane put her tiny hands on Rodger’s chest and rubbed.
Gray saw his nephew smile, his eyes now closed.
Harriet took Rodger’s hand and told him as soon as he was better, they would all sit around the fire in the drawing room since it was much too cold for him to go outside. Gradually, the coughing tapered off and the boy’s breathing became regular again. His eyes opened and he smiled.
Jane removed her hands and said, “You look much better, Rodger. I’m glad we came to visit you.”
He nodded, words seemingly beyond him.
“We love you, Rodger,” Harriet said, a fierce look in her eyes. “Never forget that.”
“I won’t,” he whispered.
“Would you like some of the medicine now, Lord Crampton?” Charlotte asked. “It will help you sleep.”
Rodger nodded and Mrs. Minter came over.
“I’ll be back later, my lord,” Charlotte promised. “It’s time for your sisters to have their music lesson. When you are stronger, perhaps you’d like to join them in those lessons.”
Jane’s eyes lit up. “Yes, Rodger. I love it. We could play together. That’s called . . .” Her voice trailed off and her face scrunched up. She looked to Charlotte. “What is it, Miss Nott?”
“A duet.”
“That’s it. We can learn a duet, Rodger.”
He smiled wanly and Charlotte ushered the girls from the bedchamber. Gray decided to follow them to the drawing room.
Once they arrived, Jane noticed he’d accompanied them and asked, “Are you going to listen to us play, Uncle Gray?”
“If I’m allowed.”
“I don’t mind,” the girl said. “But Harriet might.”
He looked to his other niece. She shrugged her shoulders and went to sit at the pianoforte.
Jane pulled on his sleeve and Gray leaned down as she whispered, “I think she wants you to stay.”
“I will,” he whispered back.
Charlotte had Harriet warm up with some scales and then she placed a piece of music in front of the girl. Knowing she hadn’t played but a short while, he was surprised with how well his niece did. She played two more short pieces and Charlotte stopped her a few times, having her work on certain passages.
The girls switched places. Jane oozed confidence. She played the same scales her sister did and then Charlotte placed different music in front of her. Gray could tell it was more complex than what Harriet had practiced as Jane’s small fingers danced across the keyboard with ease. She played a second piece with no instruction from Charlotte and then a third, this time singing as she played.
When she finished, her gaze went immediately to him and he rewarded her with a smile.
“You both are doing very well,” he praised. “I’m surprised at how much you’ve learned in such a short amount of time.”
“Jane plays better than me,” Harriet said. “I don’t mind. I draw better than she does.”
Jane nodded. “I love the pianoforte,” she said dreamily. “I want to sing and play like Miss Nott someday.”
“I’m sure you will surpass me, Jane,” the governess said crisply. “Harriet, you need to practice a bit more on what we worked on before. Jane, why don’t you start the new piece during your practice time?”
“Yes, Miss Nott,” they said in unison.
“I’ll be across the room with your uncle. Take turns.”
Charlotte moved to far end of the room and he followed, sitting in a chair next to her.
“Harriet is right. She’s a far better artist than Jane will ever be. I’ve started her on both charcoals and watercolors. She thrives whenever she can express herself through her art.”
“I’d like to see some of her work. My father could draw quite well. I’m sure that’s where her talent comes from.”
“As far as Jane goes, she enjoys drawing but she excels at music. She’s already far ahead of her sister regarding the complexity of the pieces she can play. While I believe Harriet will play adequately with continued practice, Jane will most likely enjoy playing her entire life and entertain at gatherings.”
He thought of the future and could see others gathered around Jane as she played. Hopefully, it would include her cousins. His and Charlotte’s children. “It’s good to know they thrive in different areas. What about their schoolwork?”
“Harriet enjoys mathematics and geography. She’s very practical. Jane likes to write stories and has excellent penmanship, though her spelling can be atrocious at times. Both girls enjoy history.”
Charlotte paused, listening to Harriet for a moment, and then said, “Rodger hasn’t been able to continue his studies due to his condition. I did read the rest of Gulliver’s Travels to him and we discussed Swift’s use of satire.”
Her mouth trembled slightly and Gray longed to reach for her hand. He forced his to remain on the arms of his chair.
“I am glad you came to see him,” she finally said. “He talked of how he missed you. You left quite an impression on him.”
“I never should have gone away, Charlotte,” he admitted. “I was wrong to leave you. And the children.”
She swallowed and he saw she was trying to maintain control of her feelings.
“Harriet still harbors resentment toward you but I’m sure you can win her over again—if you invest time in a relationship with her.”
He stared at her until she finally met his gaze. “And you, Charlotte? Will I ever be able to win your approval again?”
She bit her lip and Gray wished he were the one who sank his teeth into its plumpness.
“My approval or disapproval is irrelevant, Mr. Grayson. I am merely the governess.”
“Charlotte,” he began and stopped, seeing her tense.
“Miss Nott,” she prompted.
“Charlotte,” he said more firmly, “there are things we need to speak of. Not now. But in the future.”
“I’m happy to discuss the children and their progress with you at your convenience, Mr. Grayson.” She rose abruptly. “I’ll be with Lord Crampton while the girls practice.”
She quit the room and he knew how deeply he’d hurt her—and the children.
Gray pledged he would do whatever it took to get back in her good graces.
*
Charlotte spent half an hour with Lord Crampton. He slept restlessly and she told Mrs. Minter when he next woke to administer another small dose of opium.
She returned to the drawing room after changing into her riding habit and told the girls they’d practiced enough and it was now time for their daily ride. They scurried off to change and she suggested to Gray that he return to his nephew’s room, avoiding looking directly into his eyes. She left quickly and headed for the stables. After an hour’s ride with the girls they returned to Gray Manor and changed again. Once the hour devoted to reading ended, Betsy brought up their dinner. Charlotte retreated to her own room, where a tray awaited her. She picked at the food and then left most of it untouched as she returned to the earl’s room.
As she suspected, Gray still sat with the boy. Mrs. Minter was putting on her cloak and she gave Charlotte a brief report of how the boy had done that afternoon.
“Thank you, Mrs. Minter. I will see you tomorrow morning.”
As the woman left, a footman arrived to take her place and Charlotte excused him, telling him she would remain on duty tonight.
Because she thought this would be Rodger’s last night on earth.
Pulling another chair to the opposite side of where Gray sat, she said, “If you would like to leave and have some dinner, I will stay with him.”
“I couldn’t eat anything,” he said. “Not with Rodger in such poor condition.”
She s
aw the pain and regret in his eyes and silently forgave him for deserting them. He had demons to fight which she would never know. Charlotte only hoped that Gray would emerge the victor in this battle for his soul.
“I was the same. It’s hard to manage an appetite at a time like this.”
He stroked the boy’s hair. “Do you think . . .” His voice faded as his gaze met hers.
She nodded, no words necessary.
“Do you mind if I stay with you?” she asked.
“You have every right to be here. You love him.”
“Thank you.”
Charlotte took the boy’s cold, pale hand and wrapped both of hers around it. They sat in silence, listening to the ragged breathing.
An hour later, she noticed the earl’s face changing. Sweat beaded around his hairline and then began streaming down his face. As she wiped it away with a cloth, she noticed his lips turning blue and his breath quickening. The coughing started again, racking his thin body. His eyes flew open as he gasped for air, wheezing in and out rapidly. She saw panic fill his eyes as his bronchial tubes must be closing, making it difficult to breathe. His lips darkened, the blue standing out against his pale face. She turned his hand and saw the fingernails were also blue.
“Do something,” Gray hissed as he lifted the boy from the pillows and thumped him on the back.
“Stop,” she said and he eased his nephew back. “It’s the end,” she mouthed.
A calm descended upon her as she climbed onto the bed and wrapped her arms around the young earl. Gray did the same from the other side, squeezing his eyes shut, misery on his face. Charlotte brushed kisses along the Rodger’s temple, murmuring soothing words as he struggled more and more to inhale and exhale.
Then he made an odd noise and gasped. She tightened her arms about him and felt him still. His struggles to breathe ceased and she gently kissed his forehead and pulled away from him.
Gray did the same and they stared at the lifeless body. For the first time since she’d been employed at Gray Manor, Charlotte saw the child was at peace, his features softened, making him look even younger than his twelve years.
She stood. “He fought valiantly. He wrestled death time and again.”