Page 44 of Marriage Most Scandalous
“That doesn’t sound so odd. I frequently have dreams that end abruptly or switch to something else.”
Maggie thought it probably had been Abbie. Had the old girl been so worried about him she’d actually sat beside his bed? Or had Abigail recalled their talk and been willing to speak to him again?
“Yes, but then I had the exact same dream again,” Douglas continued. “Except it was Sebastian I saw this time in the chair.”
Margaret managed to hide her surprise. She wasn’t about to tell him that it was quite possible that neither dream had been a dream.
“Dreams follow no rhyme or reason usually,” was all she said in response. “I’m going to send for Dr. Culden,” Margaret continued. “He’ll want to examine you again now that you’re awake. All those medical questions he’s so fond of asking, you know.”
She started to head to the door, but he said, “Maggie, wait.” Margaret stopped cold, filled with dread. She was afraid he was going to ask her something she wasn’t prepared to answer yet.
“I’m glad you’re back,” he continued, “and sorry this accident has delayed my meeting your husband. Tell me about him. Where’d you meet him? Is he good to you? You’re happy with him?”
She smiled in relief that his questions involved only the story she and Sebastian had devised. She turned and gave him the concocted version without mentioning her husband’s name. She didn’t need to go into more detail, though. He nodded off again before she finished relating the simple facts. She checked him, gently shook his shoulder. It wasn’t the natural, restful sleep she’d hoped for. He seemed to have passed out again.
She was actually somewhat relieved and feeling a good deal of guilt because of it. But she did not want to be the one to tell him that Sebastian had come home. He would find that out soon enough, when Sebastian came to talk to him, but not, she hoped, before Douglas had recovered enough to deal with all the unpleasant feelings that confrontation was bound to stir up.
Chapter 24
MARGARET SUMMONED A MAIDto sit with Douglas again, sent a footman after Dr. Culden, then went in search of Sebastian to tell him about her brief conversation with his father. She found him in the conservatory with Abigail. She actually heard the sound of his laughter just before she entered and saw his pleasant expression before he noticed her there.
There was such an amazing difference in him when he was around his grandmother. Obviously, he wanted her to see only the old Sebastian, the one Abigail remembered, not the cold, hardened man he’d become that everyone else had to suffer knowing. She wondered which one he’d show his father when they finally came face-to-face.
“Douglas awoke briefly,” she told them. “I managed to feed him before he passed out again.”
“Did he mention what caused him to end up in that ditch?” Sebastian asked.
“Yes. He thinks his horse got spooked and bolted to the side where he was swept out of the saddle by one of the lower branches on the trees there.”
“The evidence at the site supports that, though what could possibly spook his horse on a road merely lined with trees I’d like to know.”
Abigail had an answer for that. “I heard him tell Denton that his new mare is a bit more skittish than the old one. He mentioned it more’n once,” she said, then blushed, having just admitted that while she wouldn’t speak to him, she certainly listened, probably to his every word.
Margaret went on to tell them the rest of what had been said and about the dreams Douglas had mentioned. She asked Abigail pointedly, “Did you visit him? Long enough for him to see you there?”
Abigail admitted, “Briefly, early this morning, just as you asked me to. I didn’t notice him waking while I was there, though, so I doubt he saw me.”
Since Abigail probably wouldn’t have noticed his eyes open, especially if they didn’t stay open for very long, Margaret concluded, “Well, that’s an excellent sign, if he has been waking more than we thought, or at least trying to wake. I’d say that means he’s fighting that fever.”
Denton came in to fetch his grandmother for a project they were working on. Last night at dinner Abigail had mentioned she was going to take up the hobby of painting again. Every few years she tried her hand at it. And each time she wanted new windows installed in the room that had been set aside upstairs for her hobbies. She blamed the lighting every time for her less than exemplary efforts. Denton was overseeing the remodeling for her.
Margaret apprised Denton of the good news and went over again the brief conversation she’d had with his father. Denton expressed little interest in his father’s awakening. “Just a spooked horse? Well, that could happen to anyone,” he said, sounding greatly relieved, as if he’d expected something entirely different to have caused the accident.
Sebastian must have noticed his brother’s odd reaction, too, because as soon as Denton escorted Abigail out of the room, he asked Margaret, “Was it my imagination, or did Denton’s spirits lift at an odd moment of your dissertation?”
“I wouldn’t call it odd, when Denton is known for his delayed reactions. He frequently apologizes for his head being in the clouds. Well, that’s his usual excuse. Surely you recall that about him?”
“Not in the least.”
She was surprised. “Really? He’s been like that as long as I’ve known him.”
“Which is how long? From the time you lived here? Since his marriage to Juliette?”
“Well, yes, I suppose you could say that. I didn’t know him very well a’tall before my father died and I moved here. We didn’t do much socializing then. Father was sickly for an extended period before he died, and before that, Eleanor had kept us a house in mourning for three long years.”
He actually winced slightly, just enough for her to notice. Or did she just imagine it?
But he did say, “You’ve had a hard time of it, haven’t you, Maggie?”
