Page 88 of The Curious Story of the Missing Lady
“We Whitcombes,” said Papa, “can be assured of one thing: Our hearts are strong.”
She put down the flowers she’d gathered from the garden, went to her father’s side, and threw her arms around him. “Oh, you do not know how glad I am to hear it.” Her tears flowed freely.
“Oh, child,” he said with a chuckle, “doesyourheart break for me?”
“No, Papa, it’s just that I needed some good news.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Never you mind,” she said, wiping away her tears. “My troubles are my own.”
“Well then,” said Papa, “let me not burden you with my own, except to say that this good man of medicine at my side here has declared me fit as a fatted calf. However, he does not want me to eat as I wish.”
“You’ve been on a curative diet, M’Lord. You cannot expect to eat like a king just yet.”
“Don’t you worry, Papa,” said Madeline. “We shall celebrate your recovery as soon as possible.”
“What’s this I hear about a recovery?” said Lord Peter.
He stood in the doorway, a smile on his amiable face.
“Lord Peter!” said Madeline, a gnawing feeling in her stomach. “I didn’t hear Foster announce you.”
“He announced him while you were out in the garden,” said Papa. “I heard the man’s voice from all the way up here.”
“He is a regular lion,” said Lord Peter. “I was speaking with your dear mother, Madeline, to see how she was faring these days. So, I trust the rumours are true, then? You are recovered?”
“Fully,” said Papa, with a sideways glance at Dr. Brightman. “No matter what anyone else might have to say on the subject.”
“He is to take things slowly,” said Brightman.
“Capital!” said Lord Peter, throwing an arm in the air. “We shall have you up and about, then, eh, Lord Stamford?”
“If you say as much,” said Papa.
“What brings you here?” said Madeline. She felt as if the words were forced from her lips.
Lord Peter shrugged. “I came to see His Lordship.”
“Dear boy,” said Papa, “you didn’t have to come out here on my account.”
“My good sir, if I may, the circumstances which have transpired over the last month have—in my eyes, at any rate—forged a bond between us that is stronger than friendship. I feel as though you are a second father to me. And so, why would I not come?”
Papa’s eyes were watery. “You’re a good man, Lord Peter. You do your father proud.”
Peter bowed his head, a frown on his face. “Yes, M’Lord.”
“Is something the matter?”
“I fear the old man isn’t doing well these days.”
“Good heavens,” said Papa. “The Duke is ill?”
“Yes, M’Lord. And the physician believes he may not be long for this world.”
“Oh, my boy, this saddens me greatly.”
Lord Peter smiled. “His spirits are up; I’m happy to say. I keep a cheered heart around him.”
