Page 95 of The Moonstone Hero
Ella was staring at him.
What did she see in him now?
They finished their refreshments, then Stafford escorted Ella and her sister back to their home in Mar’s carriage. The driver would return for Mar and Solway later. “We can put off our meeting for another day,” Mar offered as the ladies were being escorted to his carriage.
Caden shook his head. “If you don’t mind, I would prefer to work now. Dr. Farthingale is with my grandfather and knows to summon me if he wakes up. I’ve been by his side all morning and he has not blinked, not even once. Nor has he responded to thelight squeeze of my hand. I don’t think he hears my voice, but Dr. Farthingale suggests I read to him or talk to him whenever I am at his bedside. He is convinced it helps.”
“Well, let’s get to work, then,” Solway said with a nod. “What changes are ye hoping to bring about, and what support do ye need from us?”
They spent the next hour in discussion.
Caden was interested in hearing what was of greatest importance to them and what mattered least. He had been looking at this as a soldier and not a politician when he first started his hero tour. But Stafford’s wisdom had been invaluable in making him understand give-and-take. A soldier was trained to fight to the death for an objective. There was no give-and-take, only conquest. It was up to the other side to surrender and plead for a truce. However, a smart politician was trained to barter and avoid fights. That bartering involved trading on matters of lesser significance in order to gain support for those of importance to him.
He listened in all earnestness to these dukes, who were good men and truly cared for their soldiers.
Once they had departed, Caden returned upstairs to see his grandfather. Dr. Farthingale was at his bedside issuing instructions to two sturdy-looking ladies in uniform about proper care. Those uniforms consisted of modest dove-gray gowns, crisp white aprons, and white caps without any frills. Earlier this morning, Caden had sent word to an agency highly recommended by Dr. Farthingale for attendants trained in medical care. The ladies appeared to be the no-nonsense, earnest sort. The few questions they asked were intelligent and showed them to be experienced.
His grandfather’s longtime valet, Cranford, stood quietly in a corner and was straining to hear Dr. Farthingale’s every word. However, as devoted as Cranford was to his employer, hedid not possess even the most rudimentary medical knowledge necessary to be of much use at the moment.
No, the duke’s survival was now in the hands of Dr. Farthingale and these ladies of mercy.
Caden waited beside the valet, not wanting to interfere with the doctor’s instructions. But once he was done, Caden called for Mrs. Nance to show the ladies to their quarters and offer them a meal before one rejoined them to watch over his grandfather. They were to reside here and work in shifts for the next few days until his condition could be better assessed.
Caden resumed his seat beside his grandfather’s massive bed and took his hand. This once fierce and vital man looked so small and pale right now, so lost amid the bedding. “Come on, you old goat. Open your eyes and shout at me.”
There was no response.
Sighing, he listened with half an ear as the doctor walked over to Cranford and issued him instructions. “What did you tell him?” he asked when Cranford rushed out.
Dr. Farthingale arched an eyebrow and grinned. “I gave him chores. Otherwise, he will be fussing and fretting, and irritating the ladies to no end while he remains underfoot.”
“Clever idea. I’m going to move back in here today. I’ll keep Cranford busy acting as my valet in the meanwhile. I haven’t used one in quite some time, so he ought to have plenty to do to put me back in fashionable shape. I’ll have him start with polishing my boots and freshening my uniforms. Perhaps I’ll rip a seam or pull a button or two—that ought to keep him fussing.”
“That should work.” The doctor’s grin broadened, but only for a moment before he quickly sobered. “I have other patients requiring my attention, but will stop in as often as I can throughout the day. He is resting peacefully now, and his condition is stable. There is nothing any of us can do but wait. Ifyou have matters that require your attention, then go about your day and do them.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
Momentarily alone with his grandfather, Caden stared down at an ashen face so devoid of vitality. He ran a hand gently across the old man’s forehead and then along his cheek, his touch remaining soft as a caress. “I love you, Grandfather.”
He knew this was something he should have told him sooner.
There was not the slightest twinge in response.
Well, he had waited too long to say it. And his grandfather had never said it to him. All that seemingly mattered to the old man was maintaining tradition and holding on to power. Caden’s near-death at the hands of the Ashanti had not troubled him—or if it had, he had certainly hidden his anguish well.
Perhaps the love Caden felt for his grandfather only went one way.
“Bah,” he muttered, setting that hurt aside.
But a thought struck him—that feelings had an important place in the speech he was to give the members of Parliament. Most of his speeches had been about duty, honor, service, and sacrifice of soldiers, and the duty now owed to them in return by England. He was a soldier, not a philosopher, yet philosophy was at the very heart of what England was to be and what it ought to represent to the world.
In this, he and his grandfather had opposing views, his grandfather believing that to prove one’s might, one had to grab and oppress, while Caden, having seen the damage caused by this attitude, preferred a more reasoned approach.
What argument could the old man possibly make in support of his position when he had been using government appointees like Fulke to “grab and oppress” for his own personal gain and did not care about Crown interests or the life of his own grandson?
Caden grunted in frustration. The world was not going to change. Men were always going to be greedy and seek personal gain above the interests of others. Men were always going to thirst for power—or desire what their neighbor had and try to steal it for themselves. Thousands of years of fighting had proven this. He was never one to back down from a fight himself. But so many of these battles were senseless, and often destroyed the very thing coveted in the first place.
Knowing his grandfather was in competent hands, and not wishing to remain underfoot while the ladies tended to him, Caden went downstairs. It was time he attended to the running of the Seaton holdings and household. His first priority was to kick out Abbott. That worm would never give a blessed order to anyone in the Seaton employ or enter this house again.
