Page 38 of A Lord in Want of a Wife (Daring Debutantes #2)

C edric slept with the memory of her kiss on his lips. He also held to himself the realization that he was a good man. He didn’t even remember that he had money now until he woke later, and even then it was an afterthought.

She’d kissed him. And he was a good man.

So he was filled with hope, which was why he woke with a smile and an erection.

Clearly, he was getting better if his body could plague him with desires that were impossible to satisfy.

The sun was barely up, but the servants were about.

Specifically Scottie who groaned on the floor soon after Cedric opened his eyes.

Cedric looked at the poor lad who was rubbing his neck as if it pained him. ‘You’ve had a hard time of it, haven’t you?’ he rasped. Damn, his throat was dry.

‘My lord! You’re awake.’ The boy sprang to his feet with the alacrity of youth.

‘I am.’ He winced at the continued rasp and reached for some water.

Scottie was there before him, pouring a full measure which Cedric greedily consumed.

‘Here’s what I need,’ he said when he finished.

‘You will help me clean up then fetch me some breakfast. And then off to a real bed for you. I won’t cripple my cousin’s staff. ’

‘I’m not crippled—’

‘You’re not to argue either.’

He sat up by himself this time, poured his own water and grinned when he didn’t spill it. He was on the mend.

Lucy didn’t visit, which was a disappointment. But she did leave a packet of letters for him, which he greedily consumed. They were letters from Cora to Declan, and every word was a miracle to him.

The sale of Lilianna’s books had gone very well. Thanks to his friends spreading the word—and a surprise approval from Prinny—her tales had become all the rage. She was happily penning more tomes and pocketing the cash to save for her coming out.

That was such amazing news. After all his worry, Lilianna had made her own dowry.

Simon was growing up healthy and strong. Cora and Eric seemed happy, especially as he was getting work throughout England. And even Rose had begun thinking about her future. She hadn’t made any decisions yet, but she was determined to accompany Lilianna for her Season.

Better yet, Declan and Grace had promised to sponsor them, and Cedric couldn’t be more pleased. Adding in the money he’d earned, his sisters were well set for their future.

His family was doing well. He could breathe easier. Indeed, he could look to his own future. He could even build upon what he’d begun, finding investors again for The Integrity ’s next trip.

That night, he slept better than he had in his entire life.

‘Cedric? Cedric, are you awake?’

He opened his eyes to see the mid-morning sun. Had he slept so late? He inhaled deeply, turning to see Lucy at his bedside.

Best sight ever.

‘Cedric?’ Lucy whispered. ‘I did not want to wake you.’

‘You didn’t,’ he lied. ‘I am never asleep if you want to visit.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘You will always flirt, even when on death’s doorstep.’

He frowned. ‘Am I on death’s doorstep?’

‘No, thank Heaven. But are you well enough for a visitor?’

He grinned. ‘I am always well enough for—’

‘Not me,’ she interrupted.

Oh. ‘Who?’

‘Me,’ came a male voice.

Father.

He winced. So many emotions flooded him. Anger, hope, love and disappointment all churned together. It made his whole body freeze as he tried to parse what he should feel and what he should say.

‘My lord,’ Lucy said as she addressed his father. ‘I told you I would let you know—’

‘He is my son. I will not be stopped again.’

Cedric frowned. ‘You stopped him before?’

‘He has been here twice since you returned to England. Once after you first arrived, then again two nights ago.’ Her tone hardened. ‘He was in no fit state for us to answer the door.’

‘Kept me from my own dying son!’

Lucy’s tone was tart. ‘He was sleeping, not dying. And you were not kept away. We do not let drunks into the ducal household.’

‘And you,’ his father said, ‘you conniving, thieving bitch—’

Cedric didn’t think. Life aboard a ship had changed his reactions. Refined argument was rarely possible there, and violence had to be stopped immediately. So he did what a sailor would do when woken from a dead sleep by a man threatening something—or someone—he cared about.

He grabbed the water pitcher and threw the contents straight at his father. He nearly lost his grip on the pitcher itself, but habit had him keeping the makeshift weapon in hand.

His aim was true. Lucy remained dry while his father was abruptly drenched.

If he were aboard ship, Cedric would follow up with a knife to his father’s throat.

But he didn’t have a knife on him. Instead, he spoke with as much strength and authority as he could muster. Which, it turned out, was quite a bit.

‘My apologies, Miss Richards. My father is unwell.’

‘Why you impertinent whelp—’

Cedric surged up from the bed. It was awkward, which meant he didn’t have full power. But he was standing at his full height within seconds. And since he was taller than his father, the man backed up in shocked surprise.

Lucy didn’t say anything. He heard her gasp as she shrank back. He hated that she was witness to this, but he was too committed to stop now.

‘Please excuse us, Miss Richards,’ he ground out. ‘My father and I must discuss appropriate behaviour.’

‘Uh… I…’

‘Lucy,’ Cedric said, his tone softening. ‘Go.’

Her chin firmed as she gave him a quick nod, and then she swung the bedroom door wide. At her gesture, the butler and a very large footman entered the room. He also heard the heavy tread of another rushing up the stairs.

Very good. But he knew that he needed to be the one who put the Earl in his place. Otherwise, the man would huff and puff about uppity staff and never learn the lesson he needed right now.

‘Are you in control of yourself?’ he asked his father.

‘Are you mad?’ his father sputtered.

‘Extremely,’ he answered, his voice deadpan.

He watched his father’s eyes dart about the room. He was now outnumbered four to one as Lucy stepped out of the room and a second footman entered. ‘Cedric,’ he said, his expression shifting to concern. ‘Get back in bed. You are not well.’

‘Actually, I’m feeling better than I have in years,’ he said with grim cheer. ‘I never thought I’d hear my father insult a lady in her own home.’

‘You heard nothing of the sort,’ his father snapped. ‘I believe you have a fever. Pray lie back down. This is unseemly.’ Then he snapped his fingers at a footmen. ‘You there. Hand me a towel. My son has spilled his drink.’

The footman obeyed because that’s what servants did when addressed by an earl. Cedric backed up, giving his father room to wipe off his wet face and hair. Thank God Cedric had woken early that morning and cleaned himself up. He was even wearing a freshly laundered night shirt.

How civilised when he was feeling decidedly uncivilised.

‘Do you know,’ he said as sadness gripped him. ‘I had to learn how to discipline unruly sailors. First with my fists and later with a whip.’ His gaze found the Earl’s. ‘It’s awful to do such a thing to my own father.’

Not just his father, but an earl. That used to mean something to him, but all he saw now was a sad man who’d never had to earn what he had.

His father had spent his life gambling and drinking when he could have done anything.

What a waste! Meanwhile, his father waved at the men who stood guard in the room.

‘Go on. He’s under control now. No need to protect me. ’

Cedric snorted. How like the man to pretend that Cedric was the one in the wrong.

‘Go on,’ he said on a sigh. ‘Pray ask my cousin to visit me as soon as he is available.’ He had no idea if Declan had returned or not.

Probably not given that the Earl felt like he had free rein to burst unasked into bedrooms. But it was a good reminder to his father that the Duke was due home at any moment.

‘And bring me some fresh water, if you please.’

‘Right away, my lord,’ intoned the butler. ‘And I’ll fetch you some luncheon. Jones, Hillard, remain in the hallway in case his lordship needs an extra pair of hands.’ He didn’t mention which lord, but the meaning was clear enough. There would be no violence from either father or son.

‘Father, why don’t you wait outside with them? Unless you wish to aid in my toilette.’

‘Oh, good God,’ the Earl huffed.

Cedric arched a brow at his father. ‘You’re the one who burst uninvited into my sickroom. Either help with my care or wait until I’m done.’

‘You’re not that sick. And it is my right—’

‘I need the chamber pot.’

‘Imbecile,’ his father muttered. But then he stomped out of the bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

Cedric winced at the noise but managed to quickly set himself to rights.

He pulled on a bed-jacket and took a seat by the window.

It was a power position, forcing the other person to act like a supplicant as he stood hat in hand.

Indeed, his father had used it on him dozens of times.

But this time, the position was reversed, and Cedric was human enough to enjoy it.

‘Very well,’ he called. ‘You may come in.’

The Earl stomped in, curled his lip in disgust when seeing his son, then dropped unceremoniously onto the bed.

‘Well, I’m glad that’s out of the way. Damned unpleasant to be treated this way. This was once my home. Used to run wild here, pinching the maids. Don’t know what’s gotten into Declan, allowing that foreign girl into his bed.’

‘Stop insulting the ladies of this household!’ Cedric snapped.

‘Don’t be daft. You don’t know what she’s been doing with your money. I tried to get a look at the account. She said you would manage the money, but you can’t do anything from a sickbed. She’s probably draining the account as we speak, but I won’t let her get away with it. Never you fear.’

Cedric sighed. ‘She is taking exactly what is her due, Father. Hers and Prinny’s.’ Not to mention his other investors.