Page 86 of How to Tempt an Earl

“I administered a sedative. He won’t be very talkative, but you can sit by him. He will need much care in the beginning. Summon me if a fever develops.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Ian led the man to the vestibule where Jenkins had his coat and hat ready.

Once the baron had been settled in one of the empty bedchambers, Grace slipped into the room. Her father lay still on the bed. Even with the sedative, his breathing was labored. The stench of alcohol, cigar smoke, and perspiration wafted from him. His right eye was swollen shut, and bruises were visible beneath the other eye and cheek. His nose was crooked, and she knew it would heal that way. She pressed a hand to her face and choked back a sob. Despite all his shortcomings, he was her father and she loved him.

“Grace?”

She lowered her hand, and her gaze sought his. “Yes. It’s me.”

“Where am I?”

“In Lord Castleton’s home. You’re safe.”

He grimaced. “It hurts like the devil.”

Anguish seared her heart at his pain. “You have broken ribs. Try not to speak.”

“Ah, Grace. I’m sorry for the worry I’ve caused you. Did you know I won tonight?”

“I know.”

“You look like your mother.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she smoothed his brow. “You’re not to speak, remember?”

“I know I haven’t been a good father. I love you and Adam. If I don’t recover—”

Her throat seemed to close up. “Don’t say that.”

“I promise to stop gambling. I don’t want to go on like this. I’ll let you coddle me.” His eyes fluttered closed.

She closed her eyes, feeling utterly miserable. Grief and despair tore at her heart.

What if Brooks hadn’t intervened and stopped the beating?

Terrible regrets assailed her as the truth struck her. Her father would have died outside of the Raven Club. The same place she’d made love to Ian only two weeks ago.

Good God, what was she doing?

She had been afraid to bring up the topic of the Raven Club and disturb their unspoken truce, she’d been silent on the subject. She’d allowed herself to be ignored during the day just for scraps of affection at night, hoping desperately that Ian would fall in love with her the way she’d come to love him.

What a fool she’d been.

She sat with her father for an hour and bathed his face in cool compresses. Once she realized there was nothing left for her to do and that he needed to sleep peacefully, she stood and quietly closed the door. She blinked, her eyes adjusting from the dim lighting in the room to the bright wall sconces in the hallway.

She wanted to be alone and think. Her emotions were too raw, too painful. She had to plan for her future and her next course of action. Distracted by her thoughts, she didn’t see Ian coming around the corner until she nearly collided with him.

“Grace,” he said softly. “How are you?”

“My father is suffering in that room. How do you think I am?”

“I’m sorry.”

The despair she had been feeling swung suddenly into frustration and anger.

Anger at him. “You’re sorry?”

“I had men watching your father. He must have slipped past them unnoticed.”