Page 25 of The Duke’s Sworn Spinster (A Duel and a Wedding #1)

Chapter Twenty-Three

“ L ydia,” Archer cried out, rolling over, his hand only finding air.

He tumbled and landed on the cold hard floor. He blinked blearily around him. His head pounded. His mouth felt as though it were full of cotton. He shook his head.

“That was a mistake.” He clutched the sturdy desk behind him so tightly his knuckles went white as he fought to keep his stomach from emptying its contents. “Not that there can be much in there.”

He heard the gentle chink of glass, and a moment later, light streamed into the room. The familiar big eyes of Iris peered at him, her nose wrinkled.

“Uncle, you need a bath.” Iris prodded at him.

“You reek like that time I fell into the pigsty at Uncle Rupert’s—do you remember that, Uncle?

Everyone was yelling and fussing, and the piggies were going oink and screeeee and snuffling and rootling, and one of them tried to bite me, and you said we should make it into bacon, and then I said?—”

“Not now, Iris.” He tried to keep his voice light and breezy as he cut off Iris’s stream, but it was difficult with his head pounding with the beat of a thousand drums.

His niece gave him an affronted look. “I was just trying to help. You say it is not polite to tell people things that are not nice but that sometimes it is kind. Aunty Lydia isn’t going to want to hug you if you smell like this.”

She gave him a thoughtful look. “I don’t even want to hug you, Uncle Dash, and I love you this much.” She held her arms as far apart as she could, her face showing the strain of her stretch.

On another day, the sight might have made him laugh, but not today. “I need a drink.”

“I don’t think you do, brother.” Juliet’s voice sounded far away, and he heard a scuffle and sensed that his sister had summoned his niece to her.

“What do you know?” Archer scowled at her and pulled himself to his feet with difficulty.

The world swam around him, and he stumbled, leaning heaving against the desk for support. The wood creaked ominously beneath his hands.

“Is Uncle Dash sick?” Iris sounded worried, and it tugged at some part of Archer. Or at least it would have if he had not doused it in several bottles of merlot and two thirds of a bottle of scotch.

“No, sweetheart. He’s just hungover,” Juliet explained.

“What’s hungover?” Iris’ brow furrowed.

“You know those special grown-up drinks you aren’t allowed?” Juliet gestured to the bottles sprinkled around the room.

Iris wrinkled her nose in distaste. “The ones that smell like sad grapes and sadder bread?”

“Yes. Those. If someone drinks too much of them, they feel rather rotten the next day.”

That is an understatement. Archer’s stomach gave another ominous roil, and for a moment, he thought he was going to be sick. He focused on the conversation to distract himself from the nausea settling over his belly.

“I don’t blame them. I feel rotten when I just smell them!” Iris shuddered. “And Uncle has drunk a lot”

“Drank dearest, not drunk,” Juliet corrected gently.

Archer groaned as he felt around for a bottle that wasn’t empty. The sound of glass clinking together told him that he was out of luck.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call the doctor?” Iris sounded worried.

“Quite sure,” Juliet said reassuringly.

“I miss Aunty Lydia.” Iris’s lip quivered. “When is she coming home?”

“She is only in the Dowager Cottage,” Archer grumbled. “It is less than ten minutes away on foot.”

“You have big feet and long legs.” Iris folded her arms across her chest, shaking her head at her uncle as though explaining something to a particularly obstinate child. It would have been funny if it was not so irritating. “And you can go out when the sun is asleep.”

“I have told you that is because it is dangerous.” Archer tried to give his niece a stern look, but moving his brow made him want to vomit.

“I know! And I have little legs. It is much farther to run there in the morning to wake her up, and I am not allowed out when there is no sun in the sky, and it is winter which means the sun is not in the a sky a lot which I think is rude, but no one else seems to care, and I want to see my Auntie, but no one will go with me, and Uncle smells, and he is grumpy, and I don’t understand any of this.

And I don’t like it. Not. One. Bit.” Iris crossed her arms over her chest and stomped her foot.

Archer winced. He knew this meant Iris was about to throw a tantrum that would bring the place down around his ears. He wished his brain didn’t feel so sluggish. Then he might be able to stop his niece.

“I am sure Auntie Lydia will back before you know it,” Juliet interrupted, forestalling the imminent explosion. “I think Cora was going to visit her. I’m sure she would love some company. You could bring her that new book you were telling me about.”

Iris’s entire face brightened, and she nodded, running from the room as she chattered to herself excitedly.

“You really should not give her false hope, Juliet. Lydia is not coming back.” Archer stared around the room, rifling through the bottles, not finding any that were not empty. “Where the hell is my wine?”

“I think you drank it all.” Juliet crossed her arms.

Archer frowned. “I can’t have drunk the whole cellar.”

“No,” Juliet admitted reasonably, “But you have finished whatever you had in the study. I’m worried about you, Dash. This isn’t like you.”

Archer waved his sister’s concerns away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not. It has been three days since Lydia left, and you have scarcely left your study.

You have had all your meals in here, and from what I can see, most of those appear to be liquid.

” She wrinkled her nose. “At least Cora was wrong about you bottling your own pi—-Well, let us just say Cora’s predictions on your state are not yet true. ”

“What I do is none of your concern,” Archer said stiffly.

“Dash, you are my brother, and it hurts me to see you hurting like this.” Juliet reached towards him, but Archer shook her off.

“Just leave it, Juliet. I am not some project for you to fix.” He saw his sister’s eyes widen, tears filling them, and he immediately regretted his words. “I’m sorry Juliet, I just… I will be all right, I promise.”

“What happened, Dash? Perhaps if you tell me, I could help a little? I am sure we could help Lydia understand your side of things.”

Archer shook his head. “No, Jules, trust me. It is better this way. Better for all of us.”

Juliet looked unconvinced, but before she could say anything, he gave her a weak smile. “Look, I am fine. See? This will just take a little adjustment, but before long you’ll realize, this is the best way forward.”

Silence stretched between them, and Juliet shook her head. “There has to be some way to fix this.”

“You can’t fix something that never worked in the first place, Jules.” Archer made a dismissive motion with his hand. “Just leave me alone. My head is pounding, and I do not feel like speaking to anyone.”

His sister stiffened and nodded, leaving the room without another word. The slam of the door was the only sign that she was angry with him.

“It seems that is an ever-growing list.” Archer’s eyes drifted to the falling snow outside, towards the dowager house, and his heart sank like the flakes in front of his window.