Page 31 of Devoted to the Duke (The St. Clairs 1)

“We live in Kent. From London, it’s just over fifty miles to Statham Manor. Canterbury is the nearest city, though the local village is only two miles from the manor.” She paused. “I want to take him home as soon as possible. Mama will need to be buried.”

Crane nodded. “I extend my deepest sympathy to you, Lady Catherine. If you’ll excuse me, I will speak to your servants and then compose a letter for you to share with your local doctor, informing him of the particulars of Lord Statham’s case.”

“Thank you,” she said graciously. “Tilly, send Jervis to me. I must speak to him at once.”

“Yes, my lady.” The maid left with the doctor.

Only then did Leah speak. “I’m glad we’re going home, Catherine.”

“I am, too. Would you be a love and get me a chair?”

Leah eased off the bed and dragged one over. She helped Catherine into it and then brought another one over. Lifting her sister’s leg, she placed it in the chair.

“That’s ever so much better. Thank you, Leah.”

“I’ve seen Mama. She looks different.” Her mouth began trembling.

Catherine took her hand. “It’s not really Mama anymore. Mama’s soul has gone to heaven. What’s left behind is not her.”

A knock sounded at the door and Catherine called, “Come.”

Jervis entered. The butler had been with the Crawford family since her father had been a small boy. Catherine looked upon him with great fondness.

“We are taking Mama and Papa home, Jervis. Mama is to be buried there and Papa will want to be close to her.”

“The earl has never particularly cared for London, my lady. I think it’s best.”

She told him she wished to leave London in the morning. She asked him to handle all of the details regarding the closing of the house and told him she doubted they would return. He was to let the town servants go, with references and a month’s pay, and see the furniture was draped and the house firmly secured.

“I’ll pen a note to my uncle now. He should be informed of what’s occurred.”

She rose, dreading the long walk back to her room.

“Might I carry you, Lady Catherine?” Jervis asked. “Of course, it wouldn’t quite be like in the olden days,” he said with a smile.

She returned the smile, remembering how he toted her around piggyback when she was a child.

“I would appreciate the help, Jervis. Leah, bring my crutches, please. Strong, if you would stay with Papa?”

“Certainly, my lady.”

“Let me, Jervis,” Strong said to the older man. The valet stepped forward and scooped Catherine up, Jervis leading the way.

Once she was settled in her room, Jervis promised to make all the necessary arrangements. She told Leah to inform her governess of their departure and sent Strong back to sit with her father.

Her note to her uncle was brief, asking him to come at once and revealing it was urgent. She would explain everything to him when he arrived. Giving the letter to Tilly, she told her to have a footman deliver it to Uncle Edward in person.

“If he’s not at home, he’ll be at his club. Make sure the footman understands my uncle is to return with him.”

“I will.”

After Tilly left, Catherine’s thoughts finally turned to Jeremy St. Clair and the visit that should have occurred yesterday afternoon. She assumed when they arrived that Jervis informed the St. Clairs of the accident that killed her mother and injured both her and her father. Unfortunately, there would be no rescheduling of their teatime. The Season was over for Catherine. Life as she’d known it would never be the same. She would return to Kent and care for her father, while the Marquess of Sather would be free to pursue other friendships.

And find a wife.

For just a moment, Catherine let herself think of what it had been like to be dancing in his strong arms. There would be no dancing in her future. Even if her leg healed, she would not be returning to London to look for a husband. Papa would need her constant care, as would Leah. Her dreams of forming an attachment with the marquess would dissipate. By this time next year, Jeremy St. Clair wouldn’t even remember their one night together.

While Catherine would never forget it—for it would be all she would ever have of him.

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