“Ill?”
“Gravely ill,” Marcus said, his frown deepening, just as the furrows between his brows did.
“He was fine when we left. We should really send for Grandmother.” She pressed a hand to her lips. “But we don’t have Ronald.”
Marcus looked around as though he could find him behind the furniture. “Where is Ronald?”
“The Duke of Robinsworth jerked him from the wind at the last moment.”
The Trusted Few put their heads together and began to grumble almost silently, shooting heated glances in Sophia’s direction.
Marcus leaned closer to her and whispered, “From what I can tell, all of this is Grandfather’s doing.”
“Where is he?”
Marcus nodded toward the back of the house, where Grandfather and Grandmother’s quarters were.
“I’ll go to him immediately,” she said, starting in that direction.
“Don’t be too startled by what you find, Soph,” Marcus said, his voice softening. “It was a bit of a shock to me as well.”
Sophia rushed down the corridor and knocked only momentarily before barging into the room when a maid opened the door. “Grandfather!” she cried when she saw him lying beneath the counterpane, his face gravely white.
“Is he dead?” she asked the maid.
“Not yet,” her grandfather croaked from beneath the counterpane tucked around him. “I have a few things to set to rights before that happens.”
Sophia dropped to sit beside him on the bed and took his hand in hers. “You were well when I left.”
“I wasn’t,” he said. He shook as his body was wracked by a fit of coughing. She lifted a glass of water to his lips and waited while he settled. “That’s why I put things in motion the way I did. I couldn’t tell you about it. Or I’d ruin your mission.”
“You put things in motion.” What on earth did that mean?
“I think Grandfather has some things to explain,” Marcus said from the doorway.
“I had some wrongs to right,” Grandfather said. Then he was wracked by coughs again. He was deathly pale when he calmed.
“We should go and get Grandmother,” Sophia urged Marcus.
“She’ll be along shortly,” Grandfather breathed. “If that duke of yours and that son-in-law of mine can figure out how to get by the fish.” He chuckled lightly, which caused a new fit of coughing. “Let’s hope they’re smarter than they look.” He settled against the linens and closed his eyes. “Let me rest for a moment, will you?” he groaned.
“Of course.” She kissed his weathered old cheek and stood up.
She walked toward Marcus, who still hovered in the doorway. “What did he mean about getting past the fish?”
Marcus dropped an arm around her shoulders and guided her down the corridor. “I have a bit of a story to tell you, Soph,” he began. He winced as though it was painful. “More than a bit, actually.”
“When do you plan to get started?”
***
Ashley stepped up to the doorway of Viscount Ramsdale’s home and was rewarded by the door opening without him even having to knock. The butler did raise a brow, however, when the duke cursed beneath his breath. “Sod off, Ronald,” he grunted as he lowered the burlap sack to rest beside his leg. The butler stepped back when the bag fidgeted at his feet.
Ashley reached into his pocket for a calling card and presented it to the butler. “If you don’t go and find Ramsdale for me, I’m going to let it bite you,” Ashley warned, when the man spent too much time staring at the bag. He ducked his head and motioned for Ashley to follow him into the foyer.
The butler disappeared for no longer than a moment, when Ramsdale himself rushed around the corner. “Please tell me my daughter decided not to go,” he said, looking around Ashley as though he might have Sophia tucked in a pocket somewhere.
“I’m afraid not,” Ashley grimaced. “She caught the wind first thing this morning.”