Page 34 of The Rules of Matrimony (The Matchmaking Mamas #4)

Ian’s father lay asleep in his bed, his coloring ashen. His arms rested over the counterpane tucked neatly around him. Vials of medicine lined the bedside table. Mama sat in a chair by his side, a handkerchief balled in her hands. When Ian entered the bedchamber, she lifted her tear-stained cheeks, her eyes reaching his. They were raw with worry and pain.

She said nothing but stood and came to him. Her arms circled his neck the moment she met him. His mother always tried to be strong for everyone else, but there was no hiding her weakness this time.

His teeth clenched until pain crawled up his jaw. She shouldn’t be crying alone for his father. How dare that man break his mother’s heart again. But even in Ian’s frustration, it wasn’t easy seeing his father knocked down like this. It unsettled him in the worst way.

Mama pulled back. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

He wouldn’t have without Amie’s interference. “What happened?”

“He became worked up about something and collapsed.”

Ian tried to think of what bills in Parliament his father was working on, but he tried not to pay too much attention to his father, so he was not certain. “What could have upset him so much?”

Mama looked at her hands. “You might as well know. Lord Halbert came over. They argued for a long time. Lord Halbert said he was engaging his daughter to another and wasn’t waiting for an annulment that wasn’t certain to happen. After he left, your father was in quite a rage before his sudden collapse. The doctor said it’s his heart. Your father is still with us, but no one knows for how long.”

Ian smothered a wave of guilt and shock. “What is being done for him?”

“There isn’t much that can be done besides laudanum for the pain. He has mostly slept but isn’t showing any signs of improvement.” She brought her handkerchief up to her mouth, but no new tears formed in her eyes.

He put his arms around her again. She didn’t have to hide her emotions from him. “There, there. I’m here now, and I will do all that I can to help.”

“Oh, Ian. I know this cannot be easy for you.”

She had no idea. “Amie is downstairs. It would be good for you to leave this sick room and eat with us tonight.”

Her eyes brightened. “You brought Amie?”

More or less, but there was no use going into details. “Why don’t you rest first while I sit with Father.”

“Would you?”

“Well, he cannot argue with me if he’s asleep, now can he?”

“But if he wakes up, you might upset him.”

He gave a halfhearted shrug. “Maybe fighting me will give him a reason to live.”

Mama swatted his shoulder. “Don’t tease at a time like this.” Amusement flicked in her expression, even as she chided him.

“I won’t tease. I’ll sit obediently in the same chair you were in and be as solemn as a church mouse.”

“Good.” She sighed and looked at Father once more. “I could use a moment to myself. Thank you, Ian.”

He nodded and led her to the door. Taking up his mother’s vigil, he sat in the chair and stared at his father. He noted Father’s mussed hair—gray at the temples and dark on top—and the rumpled state of his dressing gown around his impressive upper body. Was this what a dying man looked like? Minutes passed and then an hour. No change.

“You brought this upon yourself, you know,” he muttered aloud. “You couldn’t just let me live the life I chose. It might shock you, but I don’t want to live your life. I’m chartering a course that doesn’t involve breaking anyone’s heart in the process.”

He thought of his mother, no doubt crying in her bed, afraid to lose her husband, and for some reason, it made Ian think of Amie the night of the storm. She’d been terrified. Had it been the same on her carriage ride here? He wasn’t like his father, immoral and unfaithful, but in a way, he was very much like him. He still wasn’t a good husband.

He leaned forward and covered his face in his hands.

y

Ian brought Amie to his townhome to sleep before returning to stay with his parents, should his mother need him. He paced the corridors most of the night, frustrated with himself and with his father, remorse giving way to growing frustration and then guilt winning over once more. He finally fell asleep in his old room as the sun was rising, filling his window with dark orange mixed with hues of pink. Somehow, the light comforted his mind enough to allow him to finally rest.

When he woke, his view through the window was a dull gray-blue, with the sun peeking through the cloud cover directly overhead. After dressing, Ian left his bedchamber and went in search of Mama. He hadn’t expected to find Father’s door open or for Amie’s voice to filter through it. When had she come over? Ducking his head into the room, to his greater surprise, he discovered her reading to Father while he slept.

The words were familiar to Ian, but it still took a moment to register what story they derived from. Was that Robinson Crusoe ? Oh, Father would be groaning in his sleep if he knew. He detested reading anything but the news. The image almost made Ian laugh. Sweet Amie with her good intentions. He would bet a guinea that she was spelling Mama so she might rest.

He half feared Father would wake and say something mean to her, but Ian could not bring himself to interrupt. His view was so perfect and her reading voice so lively, he was quite enthralled. He did not know how long he stood there, but eventually, the growling of his stomach made him pull away. He would leave her long enough to find some toast or some small fare to satiate his needs before he rescued her and took a turn of his own.