Page 25 of The Duke’s Matchmaker

She hung her head. “I know,” she murmured. “I know that now. I regret it, Your Grace.”

“You might have made matters worse for him, leaving him alone while he was ill.” He couldn’t seem to stop himself. “What if this could have been remedied, and it wasn’t because you weren’t with him? I rely on you, Helen. You are the one person I can trust to care for him.”

“Nathaniel?”

Dorothy was hurrying up the hall now. She looked from Nathaniel to Helen. “I’m sorry,” she said to Helen. “You and I haven’t been introduced.”

“No, my lady. My name is Helen. I’m Colin’s governess.” She kept her eyes cast downward, and Nathaniel felt a surge of guilt. He had shamed her and he knew it.

“It’s good to meet you, Helen,” Dorothy said softly. “My name is Lady Dorothy. I’m here to sit with Colin for a bit in his illness.” She reached out and put a hand on Helen’s arm. “And I’m sure you know that Colin’s illness is not your fault,” she went on. “These things happen sometimes.”

“I wasn’t with him,” Helen whispered.

“If you had been, do you think you would have done anything differently?”

Helen hesitated, then shook her head slowly. “I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

“Of course not. You can’t prevent a child from being ill. You did the right thing by sending for the duke as soon as you knew something was wrong. And I understand that a physician has been summoned as well?”

“Yes,” Helen murmured.

“Then that’s all you could have done,” Dorothy said, and she even offered Helen a smile. “Why don’t you go and take some time for yourself? You look exhausted, and I’m sure you’ve been very worried over Colin. We’re here now, so we can watch over him until the physician arrives.”

Helen looked at Nathaniel.

He was stunned by the way Dorothy had just taken everything in hand. A part of him felt as though he ought to remind her whose house this was, and that she didn’t have the right to order his staff around. And yet…what was the point in arguing about it? He nodded to Helen, signaling that she was dismissed, and she turned and hurried off in the direction of the staff wing.

Nathaniel glanced at Dorothy. She was wringing her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Maybe I overstepped. I just…I could see that you were getting angry with her, and I don’t think your anger really had anything to do with her.”

“She should have been with Colin,” Nathaniel said. “Even if she couldn’t have done anything, he shouldn’t have been alone.”

Dorothy held his gaze. “You didn’t know this was going to happen, Nathaniel,” she told him. “You can’t be with him every moment of every day. It’s not your fault you weren’t here.”

It was as though she had stared directly through to his soul. How had she understood that he was really worried about the fact that he had been away? He hadn’t said anything to that effect—and yet she seemed to have no doubt of it. It was as if she was certain he had been talking about himself, and not about Helen at all.

And maybe he had. Maybe she was right. Because when he walked into the room and saw Colin lying in the bed, so small and helpless, he felt sick to his stomach with guilt over having left his brother alone. Colin must have been so frightened as the illness had taken hold, and he’d had no one to turn to. That wouldn’t have been the case if his mother was still alive. Nathaniel had shown Colin that he couldn’t be trusted.

He opened the door to the bedroom slowly and peered inside.

The room was dimly lit by a single candle. Colin’s breathing could be heard at once—it was thin and raspy. Nathaniel moved quickly to his side, as if drawn there magnetically, and fell to his knees beside his brother.

“Colin,” he said quietly, resting a hand on the boy’s forehead. “I’m here now.”

He was burning up. His skin scorched Nathaniel’s palm. He turned to face Nathaniel, eyes bright and wide. “You came home from your party,” he whispered.

“I heard that you weren’t well,” Nathaniel explained. “I wanted to come and see you, Colin. To make sure that you were taken care of. I’ll always come back when you need me. I hope you know that.”

Colin closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath.

He was so small. That was all Nathaniel could think. He was just so small. He must be so miserable, and of course he didn’t really understand what was happening to him or why. He knew what illness was, but…what did he make of the way he was feeling?

Mother died of a fever. The thought sprouted horribly in his mind, like a weed he couldn’t root out. Colin’s last experiences of their mother would have been of the fever that had ultimately claimed her life. Would he be fearful that this was the same thing? Would he worry that he might lose his own life? And how could Nathaniel reassure him that he was safe without putting that thought into his head?

He buried his face in his hands, wishing that there was some way he could offer his brother comfort and yet also remove himself from the situation altogether. Colin deserved so much better than anything Nathaniel was going to be able to offer.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew that Dorothy had come over. “Colin,” she murmured. “I’ve heard so many lovely things about you. I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well, but I hope you don’t mind if I spend some time with you today.” The bed shifted. Nathaniel opened his eyes and saw that Dorothy had taken a seat on its edge.

He felt a twang of unease. Had he done wrong to bring her here? Nothing about it had been thought out, and Colin was going to be confused by the face and the presence of a stranger. How could he explain to his brother who this was and why he had brought her here?