These should have been their last days in London.
Cassie should have been gadding about town, enjoying end-of-Season balls and picnics and barge rides on the Thames.
Her parents should have spent the week with their London friends. In between social engagements, Sir John would enjoy his club while Lady Wedbury shopped for items she could not obtain in Wrackwater Bridge.
And Lewis… Lewis should have been on the fast coach from London to Bristol, suppressing the flop of his heart when he thought about seeing Miss Spain, planning what he would say to her when he did. Meeting the father and brother she’d barely mentioned, figuring out why a manufacturer’s lovely daughter should be so perplexing.
It didn’t matter a whit. All through that week, the Wedburys hid away in the house on Brook Street, biding their time between visits from the doctor and watching for signs of improvement while Jack lay in bed, dosed into oblivion with laudanum.
With Jack’s life teetering on the edge, Lewis would be going nowhere. He spent most of his waking hours in the sickroom, most of those at night while Lady Wedbury slept. He dozed when he could, and when he could not he talked to Jack or read aloud. He saw no sign that Jack heard him, but he did seem calmer at those times. Unless Lewis opened a book of poetry. Jack never did have much use for poetry.
Though little was said on the subject, Lewis knew Sir John was pursuing his inquiries concerning Captain Fuller. Lindale called twice during the week, and Fuller spent much of his leisure time in Brook Street. “Just keeping my girl’s spirits up,” he said, one arm around Cassie’s shoulders as they sat together on the sofa. Lewis approved of the sentiment, if not the arm. His own company must be depressing as hell. Miss Spain’s blasted circumstances kept him on the fret, and he could do nothing. Certainly not put an arm around her.
At the end of the week, on the last day of June, Sir John put his head into the morning room where Lewis stood, laughing with Cassie about something in the Times. Seeing them, he came in and closed the door. Lewis could see how busy his hands had been, mussing and muddling his remaining hair as he always did when anxious. Lewis peered into his face for some inkling of what was on his mind, but the man would not meet his eyes.
Cassie went to her father’s side. “What is it, Papa? What’s wrong?”
“My God, is it Jack?” Lewis jerked into motion, slapping down the newspaper and heading for the door.
“No, no, not so bad as that.” Sir John held up his hands to fend off the thought. “It’s only… I fear you won’t like it, Cass. Let’s wait for your mother.”
Cassie exchanged a baleful look with Lewis and crossed to the window where she stood, arms crossed, toe tapping in impatience.
Lady Wedbury arrived. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. We were giving Jack his medicine.” She sat on the sofa beside Sir John. “Sit down, Cassandra.”
Cassie complied, but her jaw was set hard, her eyes narrowed. Lady Wedbury stared back, wearing much the same expression. No, Cassie would not like it at all.
Sir John cleared his throat. “I have concluded my investigation into Captain Fuller’s finances. I regret there was not more to find. He had funds invested in two entities, but one closed its doors in April. The East India Company is of course a solid choice, but his investment is small and so are his dividends.”
Sir John went on. “His parents left little—those moneys were used for the investments. His expectations I would categorize rather as hopes, stemming from his godfather, who is a man of property and some wealth. He purchased Fuller’s captaincy upon the death of his parents so evidently he has some interest, and no children of his own. I have been unable to confirm the existence of a will, however. And without specific provision, there will be nothing for his godson.”
Cassie stuck her chin in the air. “We’ll persuade him, then. A good marriage might be just what’s needed.”
“It’s possible.” Sir John sounded skeptical. “But there’s more. Gideon was kind enough to undertake some inquiries on my behalf, and has uncovered a significant number of debts here in London.”
“Kind? Ha! Gideon would be delighted to rub Neil’s face in whatever filth he could find, and if he couldn’t find any, he’d make some up. I love Neil and he loves me. If necessary, we’ll survive without my inheritance until I come of age.”
“On what? Love?” Lady Wedbury scoffed, standing to face her daughter. “No, Cassandra. At least, not until that love has proven its durability. If, a year from now, you and he both feel the same, we will accept the match.”
“A year?” Cassie’s wail reverberated around the room. “Without even seeing him?”
“We’re not so cruel. Captain Fuller is welcome in Wrackwater Bridge whenever he has leave, and we’ll return to London next Season.”
“Mama!” Cassie turned to her father and dropped to the floor at his feet. “Papa, please. I thought you loved me.”
Lewis had little doubt that Sir John would have given in at that point. But Lady Wedbury stood fast.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Cassandra. We could dismiss him out of hand, and probably should.”
Cassie rose from her knees, flushed and trembling. Her face six inches from her mother’s, she spat out, “I hate you, Mother,” before running from the room.
Lewis paced the confines of Jack’s bedchamber dreading the night ahead, the sixth anxious, appalling night in a row, praying Jack would get well, fearing he would not. And now this trouble with Cassie. Could nothing go right? There were people who might say the Wedburys were paying the price for some terrible sin, but he didn’t believe in such rot. Besides, they’d committed none. Nor had Anna Spain, to justify all her heartache.
Gulliver’s Travels, which he’d been reading aloud the past few nights, lay unopened on the desk. Even if he managed to sit still, he doubted he could speak without cursing. His thoughts blared so loudly in his head that there was hardly room for a real sound to penetrate. By the time he noticed the surreptitious scratching at the door and started toward it, Cassie had slipped inside. And she’d closed the door again—oh, so quietly—before he got his mouth open to remind her that Jack’s room was off limits.
She cast a quick glance toward the bed. Though quiet, her voice vibrated with suppressed emotion. “I’m so angry I could scream.”
“I know the feeling.” Lewis led her to the fireplace. “Listen, Cass. You can be mad at Gideon if you like, but he had little to do with it. He merely unearthed some London debts, and Sir John agrees they may be fictitious. People buy on credit all the time. As long as the bills get paid, it’s not debt.
“But Cassie…” Lewis sat on the little sofa and pulled her down beside him. “You need to apologize to your mama.”
“I won’t! If Neil were rich, she’d happily announce the betrothal tomorrow. She’ll find ways to keep us apart forever. She’ll never give her approval. She doesn’t care if I’m miserable.”
“You know that’s not true.”
She cupped her cheeks, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, staring into the flames licking around the chunks of coal.
The big clock chimed in the corridor. A quarter-hour before one. He should get Cassie to her room, but he didn’t have the heart to leave her alone there.
A tap sounded on the door, and Lewis called out, “Come.” He expected to hear Robert’s voice and the clink of china and cutlery—the footman always brought some broth or barley water for Jack, and a bit of supper for Lewis. He heard instead the slither of silk and turned his head to see Lady Wedbury in her dressing gown.
“Is Cassie here?”
Cassie stood to face her mother, and Lewis followed suit. He took her hand, feeling her tension as she awaited the coming censure.
“There you are, Cassandra.” Lady Wedbury bustled toward them. “What a naughty girl you are. I looked for you in your bedchamber, but you were nowhere to be found. You know you should not…” Her voice rolled on, and though the words scolded, the tone soothed. Finding that empty room, did she worry that Cassie had run away?
He heard one sob at his side, and then Cassie took two steps to meet her mother. “Oh, Mama,” she whimpered through her tears. “I’m so sorry.”
Lady Wedbury’s arms opened for her. “There, there, my dear. It’s all right.” They sat together on the sofa.
To give them some privacy, Lewis crossed to the bed. He hadn’t heard any sound, but a leg jerked as he approached, and Jack shifted his head restlessly on the pillow. His skin felt… Certainly not normal, but possibly cooler.
Jack threw one arm up, narrowly missing Lewis’s chin, and muttered the usual unintelligible nonsense. Then, out of nowhere, he shouted, “Hell!” What was going on in that brain of his? And where was Robert? Once the laudanum began to wear off, it sometimes took two to handle him.
Keeping watch on Jack, Lewis said, “Ma’am, you’d better take Cassie—”
As though propelled by a spring, Jack sat bolt upright and grabbed Lewis’s arm. It hurt.
“Lewis?” He stared into his friend’s face, wide-eyed and agitated. “You here too?”
“Lie down, Jack,” Lewis murmured, one hand on Jack’s shoulder. It was the closest Jack had come to recognizing anyone. But did he, or was he still wherever his nightmare had taken him?
Jack’s anxious gaze moved past Lewis to the two women, frozen on their way to the door. “Mama? And Cassie?” He peered around the room. “This isn’t hell. Is it London?”
Lewis heard Lady Wedbury gasp, and the rustle of movement as she came closer. He grinned. “Yes, Jack, it’s London. It’s good to have you back.”
Jack released a breath that might have been pent up inside him all week long. He relaxed under Lewis’s hands and lay down.
“Oh, my dear boy. Thank God.” Tears of relief ran down Lady Wedbury’s cheeks. She took Jack’s hand and pressed it to her bosom. When Cassie came to the forbidden bedside, there was no scold from her mother, but an arm around her waist and a watery smile that presupposed Cassie would share her joy.