was busy getting some whisky out of the sideboard, but at David’s question, he paused, staring down at the decanter in his hands.
“Not really,” he said simply. “She suffered a miscarriage a few weeks ago. On top of everything else, it was pretty unbearable for her.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry.”
Donald looked up and gave a sad half smile. “The doctor sees no reason to worry she won’t conceive again. It’s just—she’s still very dejected about it. She tries to hide it when people are around, but when we’re alone, she’s inconsolable. And it’s not just the baby. She was frantic about Lizzie when she ran off, and now there’s her father, dying. Catherine adores him. All the girls do.” He sighed and set the whisky down on the table, fetching two glasses before he settled back in his chair and poured them both a large measure.
“She hasn’t been herself for weeks,” he continued gruffly. “I’ve been working here as much as I can, so I can keep an eye on her. I don’t like her being too much alone. It makes her melancholy.”
“I’m so sorry,” David said again. “Catherine’s always been such a merry girl.”
Donald sighed again, a heavy, careworn sound. “And I’ve been so preoccupied with work.”
David felt an immediate stab of guilt. Donald had taken a raft of cases off David’s hands when David had gone to Perthshire with Murdo to recuperate from his accident. Donald had dealt too with all the trustees’ duties for the trust Chalmers had put in place to provide for Elizabeth, even though, as his cotrustee, David should have borne an equal share of the responsibility.
“I’m sorry, Donald,” he said now. “I’ve taken you for granted. You’ll have to let me know what I can do to rectify matters.”
“Don’t be silly.” Donald pasted on a ramshackle smile. “It’s not as though I didn’t get paid for dealing with your cases. I’m not that much of a martyr!”
“Even so. You’re overworked and worried about Catherine. We’ll work something out. I need to start thinking about my own future in any event.” He paused, then added, “And what about Elizabeth?”
Donald shrugged. “It’s still too risky for her to return to Scotland—we’re sure Kinnell’s had Chalmers’s house watched. Ours too, probably.” He rubbed a weary hand over his eyes. “The fact is, she’ll never see her father again, and that’s difficult for everyone. Catherine’s been especially upset by it, particularly when her mother uses it as an excuse to malign Lizzie.”
David could just imagine. Elizabeth’s mother would have detested the scandal Elizabeth had caused.
After a pause, David asked, “Do you know why Chalmers wants to see me?”
“Well, Lord knows he’s fond of you—boasts about your achievements like you’re his own flesh and blood.” Donald paused. “It’s possible he wishes only to say good-bye, but I can’t help thinking there’s more to it. I know he’s worried about Elizabeth too. I’ve tried to get him to talk to me, but…” He trailed away helplessly.
“I’ll go to him first thing tomorrow.”
Donald lifted his glass and said, “Let’s pray he lasts another night.”
Chapter Six
David was just about to leave the townhouse the next morning when Murdo entered the hallway behind him.
“You forgot something.”
David turned his head to be confronted by the ebony-and-silver cane and an expression on Murdo’s face that dared David to defy him.
“Chalmers’s house is less than ten minutes away,” David protested, but Murdo just kept holding out the cane.
“You should take it with you whenever you go out.” His expression softened at whatever look he saw on David’s face, and he added more gently, “For now.”
David sighed, but he took the cane, though somewhat ungraciously.
“Fine,” he huffed and turned to the door again.
“Make sure you’re back for dinner,” Murdo said in an imperious tone he sometimes used that got on
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