Page 33 of How to Win a Duke’s Heart

Unable to bear waiting any longer, Sophronie silently opened the door to her father’s chamber and peeked inside. Head in his hands and shoulders slumped as if the weight he bore upon those broad shoulders was too much to bear, Evan sat beside her father’s bed.

A long, slow, agonized hiss escaped her, drawing Evan’s attention.

He raised his head, sorrow and another unidentifiable emotion etched upon his rugged features.

Almost against her will, she gravitated her focus to her father’s ghastly white face. Never had he looked so frail and vulnerable. The large bed seemed to swallow him, and he was so very, unnaturally still.

“Is he…?” Every muscle in her body went rigid as she braced herself for the worst. Swallowing against the dread pummeling her insides, she took two tentative paces into the room. “Is he dead?”

“Nae, lass.” Evan rose at once and crossed to her. He touched her shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. “He’s merely sleepin’.”

“You’re certain?” Her agitated gaze clashed with his troubled one before drifting to her insensate father again. “Why is he so white, Evan?” she whispered past stiff lips. “It’s as if all of the blood has drained from him.”

She feared she mightn’t be far off the mark.

Where was the doctor?

He said he’d only be a few minutes.

He should be here to answer the questions tormenting her.

Likely he’d stopped off in the kitchen for a scone and marmalade again. The uncharitable thought had her glancing at the gaping doorway in search of the physician.

“I dinna ken, Sophronie. The doctor will tell ye what he kens when he returns.”

“When he returns.” She pressed her lips together. “He should be here with Papa,” she whispered fiercely. “What could possibly be more important than that right now?”

Rather than answer her, Evan gently took her elbow. “Come, sit down.”

She didn’t resist but allowed him to lead her to the chair he’d just vacated.

Slightly unsteady, Sophronie sank onto the seat. Still wearing the borrowed riding habit, she held a hand to her forehead. The gesture did nothing to calm her ricocheting thoughts or the disjointed thumping of her heart. “I know I’m overstepping, but what did Papa say to you? What was so important that he must speak to you before me?”

She glanced upward, fully aware her voice held a pleading note, and hurt punctuated her tone.

Evan rubbed two fingers over an eyebrow, an apology in his reluctant blue-gray eyes.

“Forgive me, Sophronie, but it’s no’ for me to say.”

Sophronie scowled, frustration and fear tightening the tangled knot in the pit of her stomach. She inhaled a large breath, her chest expanding with the movement, and took her father’s hand.

“He’s dying, isn’t he?” There was no point in equivocating.

Evan paused for several heartbeats, then released a raspy sigh. “I believe so, but we must wait for the doctor to tell us as much.”

Oddly calm and surprisingly composed, she nodded. Sophronie had never been the sort for histrionics and dramatics, though if there ever were a time for either, sitting beside her dying father’s bedside qualified.

“I wish I had a large family as you do, Evan. It wouldn’t make Papa’s passing any easier, but at least I’d have other loving relatives around me to ease the pain.” Feeling somewhat dazed and struggling to focus and grasp the reality of this awful moment, she stared across the room. “There’s no one in Virginia except for a few friends.”

She’d make the return voyage by herself now. How could she possibly pick up the life she’d left months ago by herself? Tears blurred her vision, and she kissed her father’s hand.

“Please don’t leave me, Papa. I need you.”

It didn’t matter that Evan heard her pleas. All that mattered was the man who’d kept her safe, who’d loved her unconditionally despite her mulishness and rebellious tendencies, would be no more.

Pain clamped her heart, and she struggled to breathe. Guilt brutally kicked her in the ribs as well. Despite Evan’s kind reassurances of a few days ago, she couldn’t help but blame herself.

Closing her eyes, she prayed. God, if you let my father live, I vow I’ll never be impetuous or imprudent again. I’ll behave with perfect decorum and never give Papa cause to be troubled or ashamed of my behavior.