Page 3 of An Enchanting Kiss (Captivating Kisses #5)

“Thank you for all you have done for my brother,” he told the valet.

“Leave,” a weak voice said from the bed .

Rupert had avoided looking there and forced himself to do so now.

His eyes took in the frail frame of his once vibrant brother.

Perceval was ghostly white, his eyes sunk far into his skull.

He looked as someone who might have been starved for weeks.

As he gave Rupert a tentative smile, Rupert could see the gaps where teeth had once been.

Leaning toward the bed, he asked, “Do you want all of us to leave, Cressley?”

“You. Stay.”

He straightened. “If you would please leave us.” When Damsley looked upset, he added, “Just for a few minutes. I will spend a brief time with my brother and then leave to allow him to get some rest.”

The physician and valet exited the room, and Rupert took the chair Damsley had vacated, scooting it closer to the bed. He took one of his brother’s hands, which looked as if it belonged to a man of eighty.

“I would ask how you are, but I can tell you are in no shape to speak much,” he began. “I have done what you asked, Cressley. My commission is being sold. I have returned to take care of you and Crestbrook.”

Perceval wheezed and then made a gurgling sound. Rupert felt so helpless. He watched in horror as his brother finally gained control once more.

“They say . . . a night with Venus . . . a lifetime . . . with mercury.”

“Why did you not take a mistress, Perceval?” he asked. “At least when you are with but a single woman, you have a better chance of not contracting disease.”

One corner of his brother’s mouth turned up in an attempt to smile.

“And leave all... those women untouched?” Perceval coughed, the strain of such a simple act looking like agony on his face.

“I was foolish, Rupert. So... so foolish. And those whom I called friends? They... abandoned me long ago.”

They sat in silence a few minutes. He doubted Perceval had the strength to continue their conversation.

Then his brother rallied. “You are... my heir. No wife or sons from me. Dr. Thayer... says not long now.” His eyes cut to a table on the bedside. “Some of... the laudanum. Now.”

“How much?” he asked.

“Drops. On . . . my tongue. Helps.”

Picking up the bottle, he squeezed the dropper, bringing the laudanum into it. Rupert brought it to his brother’s mouth. Perceval opened his lips, and he placed a drop on his brother’s tongue.

“More.”

He added two additional drops before returning the dropper to the bottle. Then he waited.

Finally, Perceval said, “Be better than I was. Be . . . strong. Kind. Not like . . . me.”

He took the bony hand. “I will. I promise.” He remained standing, watching over his brother, feeling absolutely helpless because he could do nothing. Then the wheezing began again.

“I will fetch Dr. Thayer.”

Rupert rushed to the door and opened it, finding both Thayer and Damsley outside the door.

“Lord Cressley’s breathing is labored. Come quickly.”

Both men rushed past him, and Rupert followed. The doctor lifted Perceval’s wrist, pressing a finger to it.

“His pulse is weak. Barely fluttering. Administer a drop of the laudanum, Damsley.”

“I have already done so,” he informed them, worried that he had given Perceval three drops, while the doctor called for only one. “He asked for me to do so.”

All three men stood, their gazes on the shriveled form in the bed, what was left of the man Perceval Cummings had once been. Then the labored breathing ceased. Again, the doctor took his patient’s wrist. He frowned. Placed two fingers on Perceval’s throat. Then he nodded slowly.

“He is gone,” Dr. Thayer told them .

Guilt flooded Rupert.

Had he administered the dose which had killed his own brother?

The doctor looked to Damsley. “Go and tell Bowers. He knows what to do.”

Once the valet left, Rupert had to ask, “How much laudanum had you been giving him?”

The physician shrugged. “It varied. Usually, a couple of drops.”

“Would three... have been too much?” he asked anxiously.

Dr. Thayer shook his head. “No, my lord. Not at this point.”

He started to correct the man and then it struck him.

He was now Viscount Cressley.

“Thank you for all you did for my brother. While I did not truly know him, I am in anguish, seeing how much he suffered in the end.”

“Lord Cressley told me a week ago that he had no regrets. That he lived his life as he saw fit.” Dr. Thayer paused. “The viscountcy is now yours to do with as you choose, my lord.”

Rupert vowed he would be the best man he could be and restore the reputation of his family’s name.

The doctor left, and he stayed with Perceval until Bowers and Damsley appeared. A woman accompanied them, and he suspected she was the housekeeper.

“We will care for his lordship now, my lord,” the valet assured him.

“Mrs. Bowers has prepared a temporary room for you, my lord,” the butler added, indicating the woman. “Of course, as soon as possible, these rooms will be cleaned and aired for your benefit.”

He couldn’t imagine lying in the same bed where his dead brother now lay.

“There is no rush. I will be happy wherever Mrs. Bowers has placed me. Has the vicar been sent for?”

“Yes. He will wish to discuss the funeral with you,” Bowers said.

He hadn’t a clue what Perceval would have preferred and decided he would let the vicar take the lead. The same went for who should be notified of the death. Rupert had no idea who his brother’s friends were, although from what he had gathered, there were no true friends at all.

“I suppose I will take Lord Cressley back to be buried at Kidsgrove,” he said.

“His lordship made arrangements to be buried here in town,” the butler shared.

“I see. I will stay until the service is held, and then I will go to Crestbrook. I am certain there are things to be seen to there.”

“Good,” Mrs. Bowers said, looking relieved. “Because you will need to see to Miss Celia.”

“Who?” he asked, having never heard the name, wondering if this was some elderly aunt or cousin he had never met, who his brother had taken in.

Mrs. Bowers looked at him almost apologetically. “Miss Celia is Lord Cressley’s bastard daughter.”