Page 65 of A Highland Duke to Claim Her Heart

Ewan’s jaw tightened, and he felt himself glare at Alaric. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Alaric said quickly. “I am sure that your brother has experience in this field, if he says he does. But that does not mean that he is as proficient as he says he is. Your illness started when he returned, and now he is prescribing tonics… It all feels too convenient.”

Ewan stood up, which was no small feat, because it made all the blood rush to his head, and he felt momentarily so dizzy that he had to seize the desk to keep from collapsing.

“I do not know what you are implying,” he snarled, “but that is my brother you are talking about. And he would never deliberately harm me.”

Alaric held up his hands as if in surrender. “I do not mean to imply that he would hurt you deliberately,” he cried. “Only that we do not know what the source of your illness is, and it is possible that your brother’s tonic, prescribed by an apothecary without properly assessing you, will only worsen the symptoms.” Alaric’s voice was pleading as Ewan sank back into his chair. “Please, Your Grace, for my sake, why do you not send for the doctor? He might be able to pinpoint the cause of these headaches and fatigue, and then he can assign a medical remedy. One that has been tested.”

Ewan grunted. “Very well. I do see the sense in that.”

Alaric looked greatly relieved as he let his hands fall to his side. “Thank you, Your Grace. I shall send a note to him now. You should be examined posthaste.”

And he hurried from the room, shutting the door carefully behind him. When he was gone, Ewan sat back, grateful for the silence as another pulse of pain shot through his head.

Something was seriously wrong with him, and he had a duty to the estate, and to Cassandra, to figure out exactly what it was.

Chapter 24

Cassandra was on her knees in the soil, planting seedlings that Lillian had helped her order from the village. Her knees were starting to ache as they sank into the hard ground, and her back was also beginning to hurt from being bent over, but otherwise, she was content.

She loved being out in her garden, which was starting to take shape, her hands dirty, the back of her neck sweaty, her body performing labor that was useful and productive. So much of her life had been spent being useless, standing idly in ballrooms trying to attract the attention of a man.

But this was different. She was putting food into the earth, food that would grow and nourish her, Annabelle, and Ewan.

Annabelle was currently kneeling beside her, also attempting to plant the seedlings, but mostly talking about the names of flowers in French and how she wished her father was helping them in the garden.

“But this past week he has been too sick,” Annabelle said, as her little fingers pushed into the dirt. “He says that he is too tired and that his head hurts too much. I am worried about him.”

Cassandra glanced over at her stepdaughter, a hard knot forming in her stomach. If even Annabelle was concerned about the headaches, then that meant Ewan must be in too much pain to conceal it from her.

“Has he ever had headaches like this before?” she asked.

Annabelle shook her head. “Papa always says he is as healthy as an ox.” She giggled, but then her expression sobered. “The headaches only started after Uncle Christopher returned. I would think he would be happy! We did not have to have a funeral for Uncle Christopher in the end! But that is when he started feeling so tired and sad.”

Cassandra felt cold, despite the sun high overhead. Pulling her hands from the dirt, she wiped them on her apron before placing one on Annabelle’s shoulder.

“Your father will be well,” she murmured. “It is just a few headaches. The doctor will come, and he will get him sorted out.”

Annabelle’s lip trembled. “I do not want to be an orphan,” she whispered. “Bad things happen to orphans. Everyone knows that.”

“You are not going to become an orphan,” Cassandra said sharply. “And I will always be here to take care of you. Do you understand?”

Lip still quivering, Annabelle nodded. There were tears swimming behind her eyes, but she did not let them fall.

Then she leaned forward and threw her arms around Cassandra’s neck. Cassandra hugged her back tightly, folding her against her chest, even as worry bloomed there. She needed to consult with a physician right away. She could not let anything bad happen to Ewan—for his sake, for her own sake, but most of all, for Annabelle.

***

When she and Annabelle returned to the house, it was to find Alaric waiting outside in the drive, a preoccupied look on his face. The moment he saw Cassandra, he stepped forward.

“Your Grace,” he murmured. “I wondered if I might have a private word.”

“But of course.” Cassandra let go of Annabelle’s hand and crouched down. “Run along and get ready for supper,” she said. “I shall be in shortly.”

Once Annabelle had disappeared inside, Cassandra took Alaric’s proffered arm, and the two of them began walking together toward the gardens. Alaric did not speak until they were safely inside the stone walls. Then he stopped and turned to face her, his expression grave.

“I need to speak to you about something of vital importance and deadly seriousness,” he said.