Page 49 of The Love Potion
She and Mama had gone over the list of eligible bachelors several times. “A few.”
“Do you want them?”
No. None had decent stables. None could talk horses at a credible level, though the duke failed in that as well.
“You marry the man,” he said. “Not their horses.”
Clearly, he knew her very well. She shrugged. “Maybe not this Season—”
He gripped her hand. His was cold and skeletal, but she cherished it for the memory of all the times she’d been surrounded by his warmth. “I want you settled—” he rasped.
“I can be settled in a year or two. There’s plenty of money to keep me and Mama. Even if Gregory gives me nothing—which you know won’t happen—we can live happily off of Mama’s money.”
“Your dowry is set. And Gregory will do right by you.”
“Exactly. And you’re going to get better…”
She might as well not have spoken because a coughing fit covered her words. She jumped to her feet and brought his cold tea forward. She looked for the medicine from the apothecary, but she didn’t see it anywhere. Then she waited in agonizing silence as he continued to hack and hack. The handkerchief when he drew it away from his mouth was dark red with blood and his hand shook as he tried to take the tea from her.
She helped him drink. She helped him resettle on the bed. And inside, she cursed and screamed. Two days ago, he’d danced with her. Today, he couldn’t get out of bed.
“You pressed too hard at my ball.”
“I wanted to see my girl. The belle of the ball.” His expression darkened. “Until your cousin.”
“It wasn’t Kynthea’s fault. People trip. The duke’s spat—”
He waved her comments away. “It was your night.”
“And I loved every second of it.” She smiled into his eyes. “I loved that you stayed up for me. And you loved the deviled kidneys.” She’d made sure they were served at the midnight buffet just for him. He’d eaten them from the seat she’d had set for him at the head of the ballroom.
“A father watches over his daughter,” he wheezed. Then his eyes grew moist. “I want to walk you down the aisle.”
“Of course, you will!”
He shook his head. “It must be soon.”
Her throat tightened. “You must take your medicine. You must rest more.” She lifted his near hand and pressed a kiss tohis knuckles. “Papa, I want you there, too. I want you to give me away.”
With his free hand, he patted the top of her head. Then when she straightened, he cupped her cheek. It was a gesture he’d done since her earliest memory. He tapped her head, then cupped her cheek.
“My girl,” he said.
“My papa,” she returned.
They said the last part together. “Get the racing forms.”
Then they laughed. The paper was on the table beside his bed, and she grabbed them. She looked them over with him. She discussed the strength and lineage of each contender. And she kept talking even when he closed his eyes and drifted off into a light sleep.
He’d get better soon, she told herself. This was no different than any other time he’d over-exerted. He needed better air. London was no place for him with the coal ash everywhere. He needed to go back to the country, but he would never leave while she was husband hunting. He wanted to be here to negotiate the marriage contract. Which meant she had to get the duke to propose today.
A soft knock sounded on the bedroom door. She looked up to see her mother step quietly inside. Her nose wrinkled at the scent. Everyone’s did. She pressed a lavender scented handkerchief to her nose as her expression turned exquisitely sad.
According to Zoe’s governess, her parents’ marriage hadn’t been a love match, but affection had grown between them. And now Zoe could see her mother’s heart breaking.
“We need to get him out of London,” Zoe whispered.
Her mother shook her head. “Not until you’re engaged.” Then she gestured for Zoe to come out of the room. She did,nodding as a maid went in to sit beside the bed. Her father was never left alone anymore.
