She nodded once more. Then she linked her arm with Prissa’s and the two of them climbed the front stoop with Greg right at their back.
Even before the butler opened the door, they could hear a furious argument from inside.
“Elliott?” Prissa glanced at Bella.
And, indeed, it did sound like their brother’s voice. “He must have finally returned home.”
Goodness, it was going to be a very long night.
The front door swung open, and with it the bellowing from inside Chatham House spilled out onto Berkeley Square, into the late afternoon air. Bella took a staggered breath and Greg placed his hand on the small of her back. “I’m right here,” he said softly.
And while his presence did bring her some peace, she was beyond embarrassed that he was witnessing any of this.
Just as the three of them crossed the threshold, Elliott’s voice clearly rang out from a nearby parlor. “…No! You never did. Not one day of my life! You let him belittle me. You let him belittle all of us.”
“Elliott,” Papa began, sounding more than tired. Heavens, he’d been under such duress for more than a day. “That tactic won’t work this time. I have spent my life trying to do the best for all of—”
“Bollocks!” Elliott screamed. “You’ve spent your life cowering from that bastard. Turing a blind eye to how he treats me for fear that he’ll turn his venom on you. You even let my mother run from here instead of being a man and protecting all of us as you should have.”
“So you want to blame me for your choices?” Papa bellowed back. “It’s my fault that you drink yourself into such a stupor your sisters don’t recognize you? My fault you’ve gambled away everything you have. My fault you’ve bedded every whore from—”
“It is your fault, you blind old fool. All of it. Open your goddamned eyes and look around. I have lived in constant terror my whole life. All of us have. Bella, Prissa. All of us. So do I drink to excess? Absolutely! Do I gamble and bed whores as often as I can?” A mirthless laugh drifted from the parlor. “Something has to dull the pain of being your son!”
Bella and Prissa gasped in unison.
“Get out!” Papa’s voice rang loudly.
“You’re a spineless, impotent coward.”
“And do not ever come back, Elliott,” Papa continued, sounding a bit weaker than he had a moment before. “I am through defending you. I am through trying to protect you. I am—”
“Gladly.” Elliott stalked from the room into the corridor, but halted briefly when he spotted Bella, Greg and Prissa near the entryway. “There. I hope you’re both very happy now. I won’t be begging money from either of you anymore.”
“Oh, Elliott,” Prissa said softly, reaching a hand out to him.
But he paid her no attention as he increased his pace and brushed past them in his haste to escape Chatham House.
“Goodness,” Bella breathed out as her stomach twisted. Then she glanced up at Greg. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”
“I’m so sorry you had to live it.”
It wasn’t always as bad as Elliott made it sound, though there was more than a little truth in his accusations. Papa had never defended them as he should have, but Elliott couldn’t blame him for his own choices. That wasn’t fair.
Prissa started for the parlor and once inside, she gasped. “Oh, Papa! Are you all right?”
What in the world, now? Bella raced after her sister and found her father splayed across the settee. He was clutching his chest and seemed unable to catch his breath.
“Oh!” Bella raced toward the settee, dropping onto her knees once she reached Papa’s side. Please, God, let him be all right.
“A doctor!” Greg called loudly, somewhere behind them. “Send for a doctor right now! Alyesford is not well.”
“Papa.” Bella grasped her father’s hand and squeezed. “Take a deep breath. Doctor Watts will be here soon.”
But she wasn’t certain if he even heard her as his eyes didn’t seem to see her at all. His breathing came slower, and then his body seemed to go limp.
No, no, no. Papa couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t be. When Doctor Watts got there, he’d revive Papa and all would be fine. It had to be. Bella squeezed her father’s hand again, but he did not squeeze back.
Prissa began to cry but Bella couldn’t. Crying would make it all too real, crying would mean she’d given up, that she’d surrendered—and she wasn’t prepared to do that.