Walters appeared in the doorway, slightly weaving back and forth as if about to fall asleep where he stood.
Concerned when his silence seemed even more prolonged than usual, Merry hurried over to him. “Walters? Are you all right?” When he didn’t respond, she took hold of his arm to keep him upright and slipped around him into the hallway. “Fipps! Come quickly.”
The younger butler careened around the corner at the end of the hall and hurried to join them. “Forgive me, Lady Merry. He slipped away. Mr. Walters is not himself today. Not himself at all.”
“Have Gerald or George help you get him to his room,” Serendipity said, “and have one of them stay with him.”
“I do not like his coloring.” Merry didn’t want to compare his shade to the grayish tint of death that had overtaken Papa at his life’s end, but she couldn’t keep from it. “We should send for the surgeon.”
“No surgeon,” Walters said, shaking his head so hard that he nearly lost his footing.
“It will be all right, Mr. Walters.” Fipps wrapped his arm around the rail-thin man and gently eased him down the hallway. “It is time to rest.”
“Rest,” Walters repeated, his shuffle painfully slower than normal.
“Find Chance,” Merry told Blessing. “You know he will wish to know.”
With an understanding nod, Blessing darted off in the direction of the library just as Walters collapsed.
Fipps held up a hand to keep them back, then sadly bowed his head and whispered, “He is gone.”
Leaning against the doorframe, Merry crumpled to the floor. How could Walters be gone? He had always been there for them. Always taken the very best care of them. Her heart hurt so badly that tears welled and overflowed, burning down her cheeks. Walters was family, family who would be sorely missed.
Chance charged out of the library, then slowed as he took in the scene. Haltingly, he moved to Walters’s side and knelt beside the ever-faithful servant. He bowed his head and wept.
One by one, the rest of the household staff appeared in the hallway as if the walls had told them about the sudden loss of one of their own.
“Your Grace.” The housekeeper, Mrs. Flackney, eased a step forward. “If he could be helped to his bed, we will take care of him.”
Chance nodded and whispered, “Of course.”
“Did he have any family?” Merry asked, never remembering a single day without the loyal man seeing over the household. He’d never taken time off.
With a tremulous smile, Mrs. Flackney shook her head. “Only this one, my lady.”
“Then he shall be buried in the family cemetery,” Chance said. “With a fine headstone attesting to the man that he was. He has more than earned it.”
Mrs. Flackney dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron. “He would be most grateful for that, Your Grace. Most grateful, indeed.”
Chance rose from the floor, went to Merry, and helped her to her feet. “We will see to it that he is taken care of, just as we did while he lived. I swear it.”
Unable to hold herself back, Merry hugged her brother, who had matured so very much since their parents had died. “You are a good man, Chance,” she said. “Mama and Papa would be so proud—areso very proud. I am sure they are smiling down at you at this very moment.”
“If not for old Walters, I wouldn’t be here.” He hugged her back, turning her so she couldn’t see as Fipps and the footmen gathered Walters up and took him away. “Remember how he saved me from the pond? Didn’t hesitate to jump in and drag my sorry arse out.”
“And you and he fell ill from that terrible dunking. Mama made sure there was enough goose fat and poultices for you both.”
Chance snorted. “Awful stuff. Stank as badly as the scum at the shallow end of the pond.” He coughed and snorted again, then released her with a sad smile. “We will see him properly laid to rest before we leave for London.”
“Laid to rest.” Merry wiped her eyes and struggled for composure. Walters had lived a long life and not been discarded or made to feel unnecessary—at least, not by them. “The good and faithful servant has finally found his well-earned rest.”
Chance and her sisters seemed to agree as they milled about in the hallway, at a loss about what to do now.
She wandered back into the parlor, noting with a sinking feeling that the house felt emptier…colder now. It would truly be unbearable once her sisters and their families were gone. She hated the silence where nothing could be heard but the ticking of the clock on the mantel. It was as though one could hear the years of one’s life slipping away.
Staring out the window at the snowy meadow, she promised herself to fill her own home with so many children that she would never be alone.Duncan likes to be aloneentered her thoughts and made her heart hurt even more. Malcolm had said so, and poor Duncan had struggled with the chaos of her birthday party.
She chewed on her bottom lip and idly scraped the frost off the window with her fingernail. The two of them were so different. Opposites. But she liked him, liked him a great deal, maybe even loved him if she ever found the courage to admit it to herself.
