Page 44 of The Gentleman Physician

Chapter Seventeen

Phillip and Edward stood solemnly at their father’s bedside, holding hands in a sweet and natural expression of their love for each other, with Virginia behind them, each of her hands resting on one of their shoulders. Lamps lit the room, the flickering light bathing the family in its gentle glow. Julia stood next to the window, hand over her heart, finding both beauty and tragedy in what she witnessed.

Charles Macon, Baron of Heatherton, had woken from a laudanum induced sleep, his eyes blazing with fever and gasping for air. His manservant had helped him sit up and drink, but once the baron could speak he sent for his wife.

He wanted to say goodbye.

Julia waited nearby, trying to give the family privacy, in case Virginia had need of her.

“Phillip.” His voice was barely more than the sound of his breath. “We have talked of being a gentleman. Helping your mother.”

“Yes, Father.” The six-year-old wore a grave expression, looking more somber than a child should, with his bare feet sticking out from under his nightshirt. The boys had been asleep when Julia went to fetch them.

“As you grow, look to her for guidance. And in time you will need to care for her. Be honorable man. Take care of Edward. Help him grow.” He drew in a ragged breath, the long speech taking its toll.

“Yes, Father.” Phillip’s chin quivered but he bit his lip and did not move. Julia admired his stalwart little soul.

Edward sniffled loudly.

“Edward.” Charles turned his eyes to his younger son. “I am sorry to leave you. You’re still so little. Four years old.” A small cough interrupted his speech, but he pressed on, his words slow and careful. “But I can already see the man you will become, intelligent and kind. Be a good boy for Mother. Help Phillip to be strong and brave. I love you.”

“Yes, Papa.” The boy barely managed the whispered words before turning to bury his face in his mother’s stomach, releasing his brother to cling to her and sob.

Julia took a step forward, wondering if she ought to take Edward from the room, but Virginia soothed him with gentle words.

“Sweet boy, it’s all right to cry. Papa knows you love him so much.”

“I love you all,” Charles said. “I always will.” His breath came in shallow gasps and his eyes, sunken in his thin face, he brought up to gaze at his wife. “Always, Virginia.”

“I know, love.” She smiled and bent to wrap her arms around both boys. “Say goodnight to your father. Julia will take you to the nursery and she will stay with you and Nurse Smyth.”

At last given something to do, Julia wiped the tears from her cheeks and rushed forward. She lifted Edward onto her hip, though he’d long since grown past being carried in that way, and took Phillip’s hand.

They would not stay in the room for the last of it. They need not be witness to the end of their father’s struggle. But she would do all she could to console them, and hopefully lull them back to sleep. There would be time enough for mourning in the months to come.

Julia guided the children down the hall. Their nurse waited at the doorway with mournful eyes and her mob cap askew. As Julia stepped into the nursery, she heard the door downstairs open and Nathaniel’s voice drifted up to her.

Peace settled in her heart. At least Virginia would not be alone. Nathaniel would stay until the end.

She tucked the boys back into bed, noting Phillip’s strong resemblance to his father. Neither boy had inherited their mother’s fair hair, but Edward had her green eyes. They were handsome little fellows and she felt in her heart they would make their father proud. Virginia and Charles had much to be grateful for, in regards to their children.

“Thank you, Cousin Julia,” little Edward whispered, his thumb creeping into his mouth. He’d done well without it for over a week, but Julia said nothing to discourage him. The boy should have whatever small comforts he needed this night of all nights.

“Julia?” Phillip asked.

“Yes, darling?”

“Father is going to heaven now, isn’t it?” The innocence of the question, the solemn little face above the covers, put a quaver in Julia’s voice as she answered.

“I think so, Phillip. And he will be so happy there, but he will miss you very much.”

Edward sniffled and put an arm over his eyes to hide his tears. Julia sat on the edge of his bed. “It’s all right, Edward. If you need to cry, you ought to.”

“Tell us a story, please?” Phillip asked, his voice desperate. His dark eyes were awash in more emotions than a child his size would know how to sort out. “Tell us about heaven and what it’s like. What will Father do there?”

She cleared her throat and glanced to Nurse Smyth, who had dragged over a rocking chair in which to sit.

“Aye, Miss Devon,” she said, nodding encouragement. “The boys do love your stories.” Tenderness shone on her face, and she raised one hand to lay against Phillip’s head. The boy didn’t protest the gentle touch.