“Mrs. Ragmoore, I’ve brought Sir Alfred’s niece.”

The nurse smiled at Lottie and rose from her chair. “Oh, the famous Lottie!” she said in a thick northern accent. “I’ve heard plenty about you. Your uncle will be so happy to see you.”

Lottie returned the woman’s infectious smile. “It’s very nice to meet you. Thank you for taking care of him.”

Mrs. Ragmoore glanced back at the doorway. “He’s just woken from a nap. He might be a little spotty, but he’ll be wanting to see you. Make sure to talk loud and slow. And don’t worry if he doesn’t respond right away. Give him time and he’ll get the words out.”

Lottie pressed her hands against her stomach to settle her nerves. “I understand.”

Mrs. Ragmoore turned and led the way into the bedroom. Uncle Alfred was propped up in his bed resting against a mountain of pillows. The nurse approached his bedside. “Your niece is here, sir,” she practically bellowed. The old man turned toward her, but Lottie stood frozen in place, trapped in the doorway.

Mr. Wetherby had to guide her toward the bedside. As she drew closer, she inhaled sharply. Uncle Alfred, usually the most commanding presence in any room, was now a shadow of his former self. He had lost a great deal of weight and looked so frail in his buttoned-up nightshirt that Lottie found herself blinking back tears.

“It’s all right,” Mr. Wetherby murmured. “He wasn’t eating very much at first, but now his appetite has begun to return.”

She was suddenly very grateful for his presence. Without thinking, she gripped his arm. “Thank you,” she whispered. As Mr. Wetherby’s gaze took on an unfamiliar intensity, Lottie turned away and moved beside Mrs. Ragmoore. “Hello, Uncle Alfred,” she said with a watery smile. “I’ve heard you’ve fallen ill.”

The old man stared at her with crushing relief. “Lottie.” His voice was low and hoarse. He reached out his trembling left hand while the other lay motionless on his chest.

Lottie immediately gripped it in both her palms. “I’m here.”

Uncle Alfred then slowly glanced behind her. “Alec?” he asked as he turned back to her. The hopeful note in his voice was devastating.

Lottie had to swallow hard past the lump in her throat. She shook her head. “He stayed behind. In Venice.”

Uncle Alfred looked disappointed but gave a little nod. “I see.”

Though she had every reason to hate Alec, all she felt was remorse for his absence.

Whatever your issues with Sir Alfred are, whatever led you to do this, go to him now. Make your peace while you still can.

But Alec needed to make his peace with Uncle Alfred just as much as she did. If not more.

Lottie glanced at Mr. Wetherby. The earlier heat was now gone, replaced by an all-too-familiar frown of disapproval. Any talk about the past or Alec would have to wait for morning. “Alec kept me safe, Uncle. He did his duty. You should be very proud.”