Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
* * *
Janice gave her as wide a smile as she could manage. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine. I’m sorry I’ve been so quiet since I came back. I didn’t know what to do either.”
* * *
Emily hugged her one-armed. “Oh, darling… We are all such a complete mess. I want to say to you that I don’t care what happened in London. I am your sister and I love you dearly.”
* * *
Janice hugged her back, clinging onto her as she tried to hold back tears. She hadn’t known how much she needed to hear that until Emily said it.
* * *
“And everyone else feels the same,” Emily said into her shoulder.
* * *
Janice laughed wetly, unable to hold back her tears anymore. She pulled back from Emily, wiping her eyes surreptitiously. “Thank you for that, Emily. I needed it.”
* * *
Emily kissed her cheek. “Come along. There are fresh kippers for breakfast.”
CHAPTER 22
Arthur was sitting in his study, staring out of the window. He had downed nearly an entire bottle of whisky and it wasn’t even eleven in the morning yet.
* * *
“Well, I did sh-shhhtart last night and I haven’t been to sleep so…” he swayed to and fro, slurring to himself.
* * *
He’d suffered from insomnia off and on his entire life but it had never been this bad. Even attempts to numb himself with alcohol were not working. He thought about having a house party – a week of revelry and debauchery ought to improve his mood tremendously. He thought of writing to Lord Sarandon, and asking him to join. They could gamble and race horses, and drink each other under the table to their heart’s content.
* * *
He sat up, nodding to himself but then sat back with a sigh. The very thought of arranging such an endeavor tired him out. He knew he was not up to it. Besides, the thought of a bunch of strangers living in his house for a week was the stuff of nightmares for him.
* * *
He staggered to his feet, deciding that he would go out to the lake for a swim. He shouted for his horse as he staggered towards the door. Anson came hurrying towards him. “Your Grace, are you sure you wish to go out? Had you not better sleep it off first?”
* * *
Arthur glared at him. “Do you dare question me?”
* * *
Anson dipped his head in deference. “Your Grace, I merely-”
* * *
“I don’t want to hear it. Fetch my horse!”
* * *
He swayed and staggered down the stairs, and stood waiting while swaying gently from side to side, as his horse was brought. As soon as he tried to put his foot in the stirrup, his horse shied, pulling away from him. Arthur stumbled and almost fell before he straightened up, glaring at the horse.
* * *
“Why do you not hold him shteady?” he asked the groom.
* * *
“Apologies, Your Grace,” the groom murmured, fetching the horse and bringing him to Arthur’s side.
* * *
“My lord, may I suggest a carriage?” Anson called from the top of the steps.
* * *
Arthur turned and glared at him and then looked back at the horse. He felt quite capable of riding so he took hold of the bridle and leaped up, almost going right over the horse before he corrected his balance with a little help from the groom.
* * *
“Giddyup!” he shouted, spurring the horse to a trot and heading for his gates. He urged the horse to go faster, until he broke into a gallop. The wind whipped at his hair and he blinked as his eyes filled with moisture.
* * *
He turned the horse into the field, steering him towards the lake. The cold wind sobered him slightly, enough to tighten his grip on the saddle lest he fall off but not enough to think that swimming in the lake might not be the best idea.
* * *
He came to a stop by the lake, sliding ungracefully off the horse before tying him to a hitching post. Taking off his boots, stockings, shirt, waistcoat, and coat, he waded into the lake in just his breeches.
* * *
The water was very cold and he shivered, even as he sank in further and further until he stopped feeling the bottom of the lake with his feet. He began to swim, slowly, trying to stay close to shore.
* * *
The water was biting cold and soon he was stone-cold sober, feeling like a fool. He began to swim to shore when he heard some high-piping voices approaching. He had no wish to be seen sans clothes and so he dipped lower in the water, trying to hide. He saw three figures approaching, dressed in simple enough gowns but of quality enough for him to know they were ladies.