Grenville 02 - Lord John's Dilemma Read Online Free

beautiful with her dark hair and patrician face. John had inherited her startling eyes. Until he had gone away to school at ten years old, she had been his world, teaching him herself in his nursery and then his schoolroom every day. He remembered her as an enchanting storyteller, making up her own series of tall tales, illustrating them with her watercolors. There had been Billy, the talking beaver, with Mrs. Beaver and the twins, Sophie and Marjorie. When he was older there was Irenie the owl and Horatio the falcon. But his favorite stories had been about the bear cub, Nathaniel. John had his own stuffed Nathaniel bear, with a plaid bow tie. Mama had caused a papier mâché tree to be made for his room with a hollow for Nathaniel to live in.
    She had made his childhood a magic time. Thinking of her dulled the edge of his melancholy.
    He heard his door open slowly. Raising his aching head, he saw a tiny face framed in blonde hair peeking through the opening.
    “Cate? Is that you?”
    “I am Emma. Papa thaid you are thick.”
    He found he very much wanted to see the little creature. “Come in, Emma.”
    “I brought you my thepecial blanket,” she said, holding out what looked like a pink fluffy shawl. “Here.” Climbing up onto the dais where the bed sat, she spread the baby blanket over his bandaged arm with elaborate care.
    “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I am certain I will be all better now.”
    The little sprite went running from the room. John smiled.
    Could it be that the answer to this melancholia and world weariness he had fought so long was a family? Could he leave the blackness behind if he lived, not a soldier’s life, but a life full of people who loved him?
    Felicity and Alex were a devoted pair. The attraction between them fairly crackled even after eight years of marriage. And his brother was an exceptionally fond father. His eldest son, Jack, was John’s namesake and an engaging scamp. The twins were shy little misses, but had always succeeded in wrapping Alex around their fingers. The newest babe, Henry, at age seven months, had yet to reveal his personality but was doted upon by everyone.
    But would he be a good husband and father with these fits of melancholy? When the blackness was upon him, every tree was leafless, every pebble a boulder, and the sorrows of the world weighed him down with an unending script of misery. Was it really fair to inflict such a flaw upon a family? It had been coming and going ever since he had begun fighting on the Peninsula. So far, he had been able to mask his moods whenever he was on leave, so even Alex knew nothing. Seeing them as a weakness, John’s instinct had always been to hide his times of mental anguish. If he were in better health now, he would disappear on horseback, putting up at inns where he was unknown until his world was habitable again.
    Could he confide in Alex? Would his brother think him some kind of mental weakling, hopelessly unhinged? Or was it time he took his brother into his confidence? Maybe Alex could advise him as to whether family responsibilities would make John better or worse. Worn out by his infection and inner turmoil, John fell asleep.
    He was awakened when Felicity looked in on him what seemed a good while later.
    “John, dear, are you awake?” she whispered.
    Struggling up on his good elbow, he said, “Yes, Felicity. What time is it?”
    “It is after nine. We have finished dinner and Mrs. Hopkinson is bringing you some on a tray, if you would like it. It is roast beef and Yorkshire pud. We must build you up.”
    “That actually sounds delicious.”
    He shook his head, trying to dislodge his mental dullness. Maybe a good meal would help.
    “Would you mind lighting some candles in here?” he asked.
    “Of course, . I will do it straightaway. I think a bath after your dinner might do you some good as well. It must have been a long time since you’ve had a bath.”
    “Yes. Another excellent idea. Between you