Under the Mistletoe with the Viscount (Unlikely Lords #6)

Chapter 11

N oah urged Midnight on. They were nearly at his uncle’s estate, and when the stone house came into view, he breathed a sigh of relief, not only for himself but for his poor horse. The last thing he wanted was to lame Midnight, but the need for speed in reaching his uncle’s side had been a necessary evil. He wouldn’t have stopped at all if his horse hadn’t needed some rest and feed. Those few hours at an inn along the way had crawled by, but at last, he was here.

Riding up to the front door, he bounded off his horse. A groom appeared around the side of the house.

“Give him a good rub down and lots of oats. He’s had a hard ride here.”

“Yes, of course, sir,” the groom said, leading Midnight to the stables.

Jerrison, his uncle’s long-time butler, opened the door. “Master Noah, thank the stars you’ve arrived.”

“How is my uncle?”

“He’s in his bedchamber with the doctor.”

“The doctor?”

“Yes. I’m afraid he ran himself ragged caring for Master Aiden.”

Noah swallowed hard. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t lose his uncle too. Uncle Charles was his last living relative, and he loved him dearly. His fondest childhood memories were growing up here at Harrison Manor. He’d already lost Aiden, and if something happened to Uncle Charles, he would be all alone in the world. He was devastated that he’d never hear Aidan laugh again, and his heart ached for everything that could not be. They had made such plans for the upcoming Season together. Now, everything was in shambles.

Noah rushed up the stairs and down the hallway to his uncle’s bedchamber. He burst into the room to find his uncle looking pale and thin in his bed with an older man standing over him.

The doctor turned around. “Who are you, sir? This is a sick room. You should not be here.”

“I’m Noah Hughes. That is my uncle. How is he?”

“Mr. Hughes, I regret to inform you that your uncle is very ill. He developed a fever two days after his son perished.”

“A fever? How did he come down with a fever?”

“Probably from his son.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. It seems that your cousin got caught in a freak storm while out visiting tenants, and, by the time he returned to the manor, was chilled to the bone. It didn’t take long for him to become ill. The viscount wouldn’t allow anyone else to care for him even though we begged him to rest for a bit. He hardly ate or drank anything while he nursed his son,” the doctor said.

“I see. I wish to sit with him. Is he conscious?”

“The fever has produced delirium. He has had a few lucid moments, but unfortunately none today.”

Noah rushed to his uncle’s side and sat on the bed. “Oh, Uncle Charles, I’m here now. This is the fight of your life, and you need to be victorious.”

“You must keep trying to cool his fever,” the doctor said, pointing to the table beside the bed where a cloth and a basin of water were. “I’m afraid that is all we can do for him.”

Noah looked over at the basin of cold water and wrung out the cloth before placing it on his uncle’s forehead. He was burning up. “This will make you feel better, Uncle Charles.”

“I will return later,” the doctor said. “If there’s any change in his condition, send for me immediately.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

Noah could hardly believe how quickly his uncle’s hale body had shrunk and how frail it looked. Uncle Charles had always had robust health, never really suffering from any ailments. To see him like this broke Noah’s heart.

A knock on the door made him turn. Thinking it was the doctor coming back to give him more direction, he said, “Come.”

Mrs. Jerrison, the housekeeper, walked in carrying a tray. “Master Noah, I’ve brought you some sustenance. You must be famished from your journey,” she said, putting the tray on the table beside the sick bed.

“Thank you, Mrs. Jerrison. Your attentiveness to my well-being is very much appreciated.” Noah had been pampered and indulged by the housekeeper for most of his life. His parents had both died in a carriage accident when he was only six years old, and Uncle Charles had immediately sent for him. He grew up at Harrison Manor, and he and Aiden had been the best of friends. Realizing that he’d never see Aiden again made tears prick the back of his eyes.

“Oh my dear boy, we’re all so devastated about Master Aiden’s passing,” Mrs. Jerrison said, patting his back.

A lone tear traveled down Noah’s cheek before he swiped it away. “Did Uncle Charles make the arrangements for Aiden to be interred in the family crypt before he fell ill?”

“Yes. The vicar will preside over the ceremony tomorrow. I fear Lord Harrison will not be well enough to attend his son’s funeral,” Mrs. Jerrison explained.

“I believe you’re correct. I will represent the family.”

“Try to eat something, Master Noah. We don’t want you to fall ill as well,” Mrs. Jerrison said, leaving the room.

Noah looked at his uncle, and his tears burst forth. Uncle Charles seemed barely half the man he was when Noah saw him at Christmastide. They’d had a wonderful visit, talking about Aiden’s coming to London in a year to spend time with Noah. Uncle Charles had even agreed to join them for a while.

The man lying in the bed was a mere shell of the vibrant uncle he knew.

“Uncle Charles, you must rally,” Noah pleaded. When there was no response from his uncle, he refreshed the cloth and placed it back on his uncle’s forehead before he began to partake of the tray Mrs. Jerrison had left for him. He hardly tasted the food, but she was right—he needed to keep up his strength.

After finishing his tea, he refreshed the cloth on his uncle’s forehead before exiting the room in search of Jerrison. He needed to know the details of Aiden’s funeral.

He found the butler talking with his wife in the foyer. Jerrison turned when he heard Noah’s footsteps. “Master Hughes, my wife tells me you were inquiring about the arrangements for Master Aiden. Are you ready to hear them?”

“I can hardly believe this is happening. It seems like God’s wrath has come down upon Harrison Manor with a vengeance. Is anyone else ill?”

“No one else became ill because the viscount forbade anyone besides himself from tending to Master Aiden. Of course, the doctor was here every day, but there was little he could do.”

“I see.”

Jerrison explained that the vicar would arrive tomorrow morning at ten. There would be a service outside the family crypt for guests and tenants to pay their respects to his cousin before the body was laid to rest.

“I will see Aiden now,” Noah said.

Jerrison led him to the downstairs parlor. He opened the door and said, “I will leave you to say your final goodbye. If you have need of me, I’ll be outside the door.”

“Thank you, Jerrison. Your loyal service is much appreciated.” He walked inside and saw his cousin lying on a large table in the center of the room. Aiden looked so peaceful like he was merely sleeping. “Oh, Aiden, I’m so very sorry I wasn’t here in your final hours,” Noah said as a fresh round of tears rolled down his face. “We would have had such great fun together in London. I will miss you desperately, cousin, for all the days of my life.”

Noah didn’t know how long he spent with Aiden, but when he finally emerged from the parlor, Jerrison was still waiting outside the door.

“Do you require anything, Master Noah?”

Noah shook his head. “I’ll be in my uncle’s bedchamber,” he said, walking toward the stairs.

“Very good, sir,” the butler said.

Once inside his uncle’s room, Noah refreshed the cloth on the man’s forehead before laying his hand on his uncle’s chest. He could barely feel him breathing through the blankets. “Uncle Charles, can you hear me? I want you to know how grateful I am that you took me in when my parents died. Your loving care helped a little boy heal from a devastating event. To grow up in your household full of laughter and love was more than I thought I could ever have. You’re more like a father to me than my own dear departed Papa. Please don’t leave me.”

There was no response from his uncle.

Noah pulled up a chair next to the bed. He continued to refresh the cloth on his uncle’s forehead, but it seemed to do little good. His uncle’s fever hadn’t broken, but he wanted to be close to his uncle to let him know he wasn’t alone.

He had no idea how long he sat next to the bed. At some point, night had fallen, and he’d fallen asleep, totally exhausted from his mad dash to Oxfordshire. He awoke with a start to find that someone had lit candles in the room, probably Mrs. Jerrison.

He refreshed the cloth and was about to put it on his uncle’s forehead when Charles’s eyes opened. Noah dropped the cloth back into the water and scooted his chair forward. “Uncle Charles, I’m here.”

“Noah, my dear boy,” Charles whispered.

“Uncle, you must fight this.”

“I’m afraid I have no fight left in me now that Aiden’s gone,” Charles rasped as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“You can rally. I’ll be here with you until you’re well again. Please, Uncle, don’t give up. I need you,” Noah pleaded.

Charles squeezed his hand. “Noah, you mean the world to me, but you must gather your courage to get through this devastating time. You will inherit the title and be the new Viscount Harrison. As my brother’s son, you’re the last living male in line for the title. All is spelled out in my will. It’s on the desk in my study. My solicitor, Mr. Henshaw, will assist you.” Before he could continue, a round of severe coughing took hold of him.

Noah grabbed the glass next to the bed. “Here, drink some water. It should help. We can talk about this later. You must rest now.”

Charles could barely swallow the sip of water. “No. I must tell you. Mr. Henshaw has copies of all the important papers you’ll need to understand everything about running the estate.”

“Shhh…Uncle. There’s no need to speak of any of this. You will recover, and we’ll enjoy many more years together.”

Charles shook his head. “I fear that isn’t possible. Know that I have always loved you as a son. You’re as dear to me as Aiden. I know you’ll do good things in this world. I love you, Noah.”

Noah took his uncle’s hand and pressed it to his cheek. “I love you too, Uncle Charles.”

His uncle closed his eyes again, seemingly at peace. Watching his uncle take his final breath was the worst thing Noah could ever imagine. “Noooo….” An ungodly cry full of misery erupted from Noah’s throat.

Jerrison must have heard his distress because the butler was by his side in moments.

Noah looked up at him, tears streaming down his face. “He’s gone, Jerrison. I can hardly fathom the loss.”

“Master Noah, we’re all heartbroken at this tragedy.”

“Send for the doctor.”

Jerrison left to do Noah’s bidding.

It didn’t take long before the doctor arrived and confirmed Noah’s nightmare. His dear uncle was dead. “I’m very sorry for your loss, sir.”

Noah was numb. In a matter of days, he’d lost his beloved cousin and uncle, and now he had to face his greatest fear.

He was all alone in the world.