Page 94 of The Moonstone Hero
Before he had the chance to utter a word, she drew his head down and began to kiss him everywhere on his face. Her kisses were a balm to him, her lips so soft and sweet as she kissed his cheeks, jaw, nose, and, urgently, his mouth. “I am very much alive and in health, Ella,” he said with a light, groaning laugh.
She looked up at him, her luminescent eyes tearful. “I was so worried.”
“I know, love. I’m so sorry about the confusion. I sent a footman off with messages to you, Stafford, and the two dukes, but it seems he never made it to anyone’s home. We’re looking into the matter now. The doctor is here. I think you know Dr. Farthingale.”
“Yes, we know him well. He treated Uncle Cormac years ago and tried to save his arm. If anyone could have succeeded, it would have been him. But too much time had elapsed between Cormac’s getting shot and his return to England. There was no chance to save the arm, but he certainly saved my uncle’s life. We are forever in his debt.” She frowned. “Why is he here? Has something happened to your grandfather?”
He nodded. “Come inside and I will tell everyone. Ah, Imogen is with you. I might have known.”
Imogen had popped her head out to listen as they spoke. “I’m glad you are unharmed, Caden. But I’m very sorry your grandfather is ailing.”
“Thank you, Imogen. His heart gave out sometime in the middle of the night. We can only wait and see whether he will recover.”
“But you have the best man on the task,” Ella assured him.
He led the two of them into the house, intending to allay their fears, allow them to ask their questions, and then have Stafford escort them home. Ella would know not to press him. He would visit her later. Attending to his grandfather and meeting with Solway and Mar were his priorities today.
In fact, he and the Scots could meet in the privacy of his grandfather’s study. The irony would be lost on no one, for he was plotting how to defeat the old man under his very roof.
That was another thing. It was time he moved back in with his grandfather and claimed his rightful status as heir. He should not have set up residence at his club in the first place. This was him being stubborn, for his grandfather had demanded Caden stay with him now that they were back in London. “You are a Seaton and all should know it,” he had declared, but Caden could not understand how they could be so opposed on so many matters and yet live amicably under the same roof.
He was worried they would constantly be at each other’s throats. No doubt they would have been, and would be fighting again once his grandfather regained his health. But the old man had been right. They were family, and it was time they learned to deal with each other without their tempers flaring.
He was pleased to see Stafford waiting for him in the parlor, along with Solway and Mar, when he walked back inside with the ladies.
“You can blame this uproar on your grandfather’s toady, Abbott,” Stafford said. “Mrs. Nance, your grandfather’s housekeeper, told me that he arrived moments after you rushed off to summon Dr. Farthingale. He stopped the footman, had the audacity to countermand your orders, and took the notesyou had written to each of us. He assured the footman he was going to deliver them personally, but walked off and must have dumped the lot somewhere along the way.”
“Or is still holding them in his pocket and laughing about it,” Caden muttered.
“The footman is now trembling in the kitchen, certain you are going to sack him.”
“I have no authority to sack him,” Caden said. “Nor would I do so if I did. How can I blame him for obeying Abbott when I have not been around to exert my presence, as I should have been? I allowed that toady to gain importance in my grandfather’s household and in his life.”
Ella cast him a gentle look. “You have the opportunity to change this now.”
“I know. I have already given it thought.”
“Don’t think too hard,” Imogen interjected. “There is much to be said for just following one’s heart.”
Caden settled into a chair beside Ella, who was seated on the sofa with her sister. “Well, you are all conveniently here, so this saves my having to run from appointment to appointment. This will also give me time to write my speech for Parliament. In truth, I have been struggling with it.”
Ella looked up at him in surprise. “But you have been making wonderful speeches across the country. No one doubts your eloquence or how inspiring you are to all who hear you. Can you not adapt one of them for your Parliament speech?”
He shook his head. “No, this one must be an oration for the ages. It must touch the hearts of peers and politicians. Many would argue these men do not have hearts.”
That earned him several chuckles.
“Aye, laddie,” Solway said. “But many of us do and will care.”
“You will be wonderful,” Imogen said, smiling at him. “We hope to be in the spectators’ gallery and hear you speak. Papa has already agreed to accompany us.”
Caden grinned. “Thank you, Imogen.” He turned serious in the next moment. “I hope my grandfather will be well enough to attend, too. Dr. Farthingale is giving him the best care, but even his skill might not be enough. The speech is next week. I don’t know if my grandfather will have the strength to open his eyes by then.”
“Is it that bad?” Mar asked.
“It looks that way, but I am no medical man. He could be hopping about by tomorrow and cursing my existence. I would rejoice in that.” Caden’s voice broke, as it had several times already. His grandfather’s illness was hitting him quite hard. For all his oration and the standing ovations he had received, he had been thinking outwardly, criticizing others for their actions or inactions, talking about how they needed to change their attitude—but when had he ever looked inwardly and examined his own shortcomings?
Whowashe? What did he stand for as a man? What was he willing to take on for the sake of others? What did he need to change in himself to become a better man?
