Page 86 of The Mister I Married

He mounted the horse with the help of a groom then looked down at Emmy. “Will you send for the doctor?”

She nodded, her mouth grim. “Of course.”

Without another word, Alex urged Neptune into a gallop, the rain pelting his face and coat, and as they charged toward the lake, he sent up a prayer that he would find his father quickly, and that he would be safe and well.

“This is all my fault,” Emmy muttered, wringing cold hands as she paced the floor in the rose salon, her stockinged feet silent on the rug.

The gown she wore was mostly dry, but her boots were still damp and drying out in front of the fire. She should be there too, probably, but she was far too agitated to sit.

“It is not your fault,” Olivia said from her seat on the sofa beside Emmy’s brother. “You had no way of knowing that your leaving would affect Mr. Whitcomb so. You cannot blame yourself for this.”

Emmy tossed another desperate glance at the door, hoping to find Alex there with his father beside him, safe and sound, but the doorway remained stubbornly empty.

“She’s right, Em,” Griff said. “You are not to blame.”

He was wrong, but she did not argue. Her family’s assurances were well-meaning and appreciated, but she was to blame, and they all knew it. Her unfounded fears had sent her running from Bristlewood, and because of that her father-in-law was missing.

“Where are they?” she asked, throwing her arms up in frustration. “And where is the doctor? He should be here now, waiting with us, in case Mr. Whitcomb needs—”

She stopped short, biting back the awful words and shoving the terrible thought from her mind.

“All will be well,” Olivia said soothingly. “Your husband will find Mr. Whitcomb, and Tess will find the doctor, and all will be well.”

Emmy drew in a breath, repeating the words once more in her mind, desperate to believe them.

All will be well.

She wandered over to the window and peered down at the drive, disappointed to find it empty. Tess had left some time ago with a maid and a footman, intending to hunt the doctor down and bring him back to Bristlewood.

Emmy had almost told her she needn’t go herself, that the staff were more than capable of finding the doctor without her help, but the look of near-panic in Tess’s eyes had stayed her. Clearly she’d needed to be doing something.

Emmy could understand that feeling. She herself was nearly going mad with all the waiting and wondering. She could only imagine how Tess and Alex must be feeling.

As if the thought had conjured him up, her husband appeared out the window, riding toward the house on his horse, his father seated in front of him.

“Alex has returned, and his father is with him,” Emmy said, turning for the door with her heart in her throat.

She practically ran from the room, Olivia and Griffin following behind, and she entered the entrance hall just as Reeve pulled open the front door.

Alex strode inside with Mr. Whitcomb in his arms, motionless and sopping wet, his eyes closed, his wrinkled cheeks devoid of color.

“Is the doctor here?” Alex asked, his breath coming in short gasps as he dripped rain onto the floor.

Reeve shook his head, worry lining his normally-placid face. “Not yet, sir.”

“Tess has gone to fetch him,” Emmy offered, her gaze fastened on her father-in-law’s wan face. “How is he, Alex? Where did you find him?”

“In a boat on the lake,” he said grimly. “I need to get him dry and warm.”

Emmy’s brow knit. What was Mr. Whitcomb doing in a boat on the lake? And how long was he out there?

Carefully, Alex transferred his father into the arms of the young footman who had just arrived, and they all watched the man turn and climb the stairs for Mr. Whitcomb’s chamber.

“I’ll have tea sent up for him,” Emmy said to Alex. “And brandy, too.”

He gave a curt nod, his stare intense as he watched the footman carry his father away.

“Alex?” She touched his arm, barely brushing his damp sleeve with her fingers, though he seemed to stiffen slightly beneath the contact. “Are you well?”