The Last Gasp

O n the long journey home from Wales, Daisy often dozed, giving Rowan an opportunity to study her. Society wouldn't consider her a beautiful woman, but she was attractive in a way Rowan found very arousing. He'd been so afraid of letting her see the ugly stump left behind by the amputation. Now, married only three weeks, he couldn't wait to get naked every night so she could kiss his hurts better.

She'd become expert at helping him attach his artificial leg, though they often got sidetracked in the process.

Anglesey had been a marvelous host, blushing uncharacteristically when Rowan told him he considered him a second father. Were it not for the marquess, Rowan might have got his wish and died in Flanders, or subsequently stuck to his stubborn guns and lived life as a lonely bachelor.

"What are you thinking?" Daisy asked as their journey neared its end.

Taken by surprise, he suddenly realized what they should do before returning to the townhouse in London. "Why don't we go to Rochevaux Abbey for a day or two? Papa will be glad to see us."

"What a good idea," she replied. "I suppose I should get to know the place."

She blushed profusely. "Sorry, I didn't mean…"

He meshed his fingers with hers. "I know, but we have to face the fact Papa won't live forever."

"Our visit will cheer him up."

"Yes, fretting about Ash has taken a lot out of him. And, of course, the uncertainty as to what has become of Thorne nags at him."

"I must admit, I have no qualms about living in the same house as Willow and Niven, but Ash…"

He had no answer to the problem of Ash's self-destructive behavior. "I'm at a loss," he confessed. "Papa has threatened to cut him off, but…"

"Why not ask Niven's opinion?" she suggested.

Her bedridden father-in-law's pale face and rheumy eyes threw Daisy off balance. The day she and Rowan married, he'd been improving. She glanced quickly at her husband who looked as shocked as she.

"Papa," Rowan said, bracing his hands either side of his father as he bent to kiss his cheek.

"Rowan?" the duke rasped. "I thought you were off on your honeymoon."

"Daisy and I were on our way back when we decided to call in here to spend a few days with you. "

The duke's narrowed eyes drifted to where Daisy stood. "Nonsense," he said. "A young bride doesn't want to spend her honeymoon with a sick old man."

"You're always good company, Your Grace," Daisy countered.

"That may have been true once," he replied. "And please call me William. You're the daughter of a duke and the wife of a future duke. No need for formality."

"William seems too informal," she argued. "Perhaps I'll call you Father since my own sire has passed on."

"I'm honored. Freddie was a capital fellow," he wheezed. "Father it is then."

"We're tiring you out," Rowan said. "Get some rest and we'll call in on you again once we're settled."

The nurse waiting out in the hallway reentered the sickroom as they left.

"Well done. He likes you," Rowan told her as they made their way to the chamber he'd slept in since boyhood.

"I like him too," she replied. "Let's hope he rallies."

Rowan and Daisy had been at Rochevaux Abbey only a day when his father's health worsened. Nurse Grange advised sending for the physician who in turn pronounced that nothing could be done for His Grace's lungs. In his opinion, the Duke of Withenshawe wouldn't last more than two days. "Send for me when the time comes," he said as he left.

Rowan had known since boyhood that this day would inevitably come, but his gut clenched. Only Daisy's reassuring hand on his shoulder kept him upright. He silently thanked God he'd seen sense and married her. Without Daisy, he wouldn't have the strength to take over management of the dukedom all the while coping with his grief. "We must contact Niven and Willow," he rasped.

"I'll take care of informing them," Daisy replied. "And Ash."

A sarcastic retort came to mind, but he willed it away. This wasn't a time to criticize his brother's behavior. "Make sure they understand the urgency," he said, realizing the instruction was unnecessary. She would also send word to her own family without his even mentioning it. Her brother was a close friend of his father's who would appreciate being informed of developments.

She took his remark in stride and only nodded as she left him alone with his dying father.

Niven's comforting arms kept Willow from dissolving into tears as their carriage traveled at speed to Berkshire. It was impossible to conceive of a world without her father, yet the message had been clear. William Halstead was dying.

"I hope Ash sees the note I left for him," she said for the umpteenth time.

"He'll come," her husband assured her.

It was tempting to retort that her father would probably be dead by the time Ash came home. He might not even find the note if he was busy sneaking his floozy into the house.

"Rapp will make sure he knows," Niven said, easing her frantic fears. The loyal butler would stay up all night if necessary to deliver the terrible news.

Daisy greeted them in the foyer when they arrived. "Rowan's with him," she explained. "The doctor doesn't think my father-in-law will last much longer."

"Thank goodness my brother has you to help him cope with this," Willow said as she and her new sister-in-law shared a comforting embrace.

They tiptoed into the silent sickroom. The relief and anguish on Rowan's face when he saw her broke her heart. Tears flowed as brother and sister hugged each other, neither able to give voice to their grief. When they broke apart, Niven shook Rowan's hand, drew him into his arms and rubbed his back. It never ceased to amaze Willow that two men who should by rights be bitter enemies had become close friends.

Heart racing, she approached the bed where her father lay.

"Papa," she whispered, hearing only the rattle in his chest in response.

She sought hope in the eyes of the physician who only shook his head and refused to meet her gaze.

She startled when her father suddenly gripped her hand. "Willow?" he wheezed.

"Papa," she croaked, beyond relieved he knew she had come. "Niven is with me. "

"Of course he is," he replied as Niven put his hand atop theirs. "I know you'll take care of my little girl."

"Ye can count on it, Yer Grace."

"Are Ash and Thorne here?"

Mercifully, a racking cough seized him, sparing Willow the necessity to make excuses for her missing brothers.

With the nurse's help, the physician administered a spoonful of dark liquid which quickly calmed their patient's agitation.

He slipped into a deep sleep from which he never awoke. In the middle of the long night, Willow sobbed uncontrollably when the rattling ceased.