While his mother was sending his sisters away to burn off their energy with a walk in the park, Edmund opened and read the letter quickly, his frown deepening.
“Oh no,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Poor Percy!”
“What is it, Edmund?” his mother asked quickly, coming to his side. “Has Percy got into some sort of scrape?”
“Worse than that. His father is seriously ill. That’s why Percy didn’t come up to London yesterday. He was meant to be coming to the theatre with Jacob and me tonight… I knew something was wrong.”
He passed the letter to his mother so she could read it herself. A sudden, violent illness had come over the Earl of Templeton without warning the previous day. While he was known to suffer from angina, it had appeared to be well-controlled and would not account for this collapse, unless there had been a misdiagnosis on the part of several eminent doctors.
Lord Templeton was now confined to his bed, unable to speak and drifting in and out of consciousness. The family’s physician could not say what was wrong or whether he would recover at all.
“Richard seemed fit as a fiddle last time I saw him, despite the issues with his heart last year. Poor man! Esther must be out of her mind with worry too.”
“I’ll write to him immediately,” Edmund announced. “Richard has always done everything in that family, and Percy probably doesn’t know where to start. It won’t take long and then I’ll dress. I know we’re seeing our London agent and then making a withdrawal at the bank this afternoon to fund Beatrice’s first Season.”
Unity Turner, the Dowager Duchess of Colborne, looked fondly at her son with the mingled pride and sadness she had always felt when regarding him since his father’s death. Always an intelligent and principled boy, he had grown up fast in the three years that he had held the title of Duke of Colborne.
At four and twenty years old, Edmund was a tall, dark, and well-built young man with deep green eyes. He looked very much like his father, Fitzwilliam, when he was the same age. He also had his father’s innate sense of responsibility to his family and friends and great capability in dealing with both private and business affairs.
On a personal level, his father was much missed by all the family, but Edmund’s management of the family’s estates and finances had been impeccable from his first day as head of the family. There had been no additional worries in the aftermath of Fitzwilliam’s death because Edmund had handled everything and everyone so competently.
Sometimes, Edmund’s conscientious and dependable nature itself worried his mother, given his relative youth. She often had to remind him to think of himself as well as the family, or even force him to do so, when he would listen to no one else.
She was proud of him, of course, but she also wanted her son to have his own life and his own dreams beyond being the Duke of Colborne.
“Better than writing, why don’t you and Jacob go straight to Fernside yourselves?” Unity suggested. It would be good for Edmund to spend some time with his friends, and she did believe that he could be useful to the Arnold family at this difficult time. Percy was a sweet boy, but his ability to stand in for Lord Templeton was doubtful.
“I can deal with the agent and the bank by myself, you know. I often did in your father’s time. It needs only your signature on the papers before you go.”
“Are you sure, Mother? You’ve been so busy in recent weeks. I hate to leave you dealing with so much by yourself.”
Unity laughed and patted her son’s arm reassuringly.
“Who is more incapable, Edmund, me or your friend Percy?” she asked pointedly, and he smiled in acknowledgement.
“Percy is possibly the most incapable man I’ve ever met. And you are the most capable woman.”
“Then go to Fernside, take Jacob with you, and perhaps you can be of some assistance to Percy’s family. You can take my letter to Esther with you, too. I’ll write to her now.”
“You’re right, Mother. I’ll have Trevors send a message straight to the Marquess of Wycliff’s house and we’ll take two of Jacob’s good horses. I don’t want to leave you and the girls without transport. Helms, my valet, can follow us with Jacob’s coach and our clothes.”
“That sounds like a sensible plan. Give my love to Diana too. She was always such a darling child.”
“I will,” Edmund said absently, never having paid too much attention to Percy’s younger sister, who had usually been busy with her governess or playmates during his visits.
Asking Helms to pack an overnight bag, Edmund washed and dressed quickly and neatly. He remembered the final weeks of his own father’s life well and the grief of his mother and sisters which had pained him as much as his own.
He could only pray that Percy, Diana, and Esther Arnold would not yet have to suffer in the same way.
ChapterThree
“You must eat something, Mother,” Diana urged gently, stroking Lady Templeton’s shoulder. “You’ve eaten nothing all day and only had tea at breakfast.”
Esther trembled, and tears began to well again in her eyes as she glanced between her daughter and the unconscious figure of her husband in the bed beside them.
“But what if your father wakes up and needs me? He did wake up and drank water a few hours ago when Henrietta was sitting with him. But then, he fell back into this state.”
Henrietta had been staying at Fernside Dower House since Richard Arnold fell ill at that luncheon on the day of her unexpected visit. She had taken charge decisively when Richard collapsed in the dining room, loosening his shirt, trying to revive him with brandy and telling Jenson to summon the doctor.