I Love the Earl
“With quiet steps and whispered instructions the servants were already preparing for the mourning. The solicitor had been sent for. Letters had been urgently dispatched to the duke’s other sons, one in the army and one in London, summoning them home. Durham himself knew his death was nigh, and until a sudden attack of heart pains the previous evening, he had been approving the funeral arrangements personally.Edward de Lacey watched his father doze, the gaunt, stooped figure propped up on pillows in the bed as he struggled to breathe. The doctor had assured him there was no hope, and that the end was swiftly approaching. Edward would be very sorry to lose his father, but there was no question that the duke’s time on earth was spent.Durham stirred. “Charles?” he said faintly. “Is that you?”Edward moved forward. “No, sir,” he said quietly. “Not yet.”“I must . . . speak . . . to Charles,” his father gasped. “Need . . . to—” He raised one hand and clutched weakly at Edward’s sleeve.
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