Kat was unaffected by his appalling question. With perfect calm she said, “Something like that. Could you get my medicine? The pain . . .” That seemed to be the last word she could muster the strength to say, but she grimaced, and he knew she was hurting a great deal more than she’d been letting on. Her determination to say what she felt the need to say had given her an illogical measure of strength, but it was all used up now. She’d stated her edict, and she would now go back into her oblivion, leaving him and Amala to deal with the repercussions.

With Amala’s help, Henry gave Kat the usual spoonful of foul-tasting liquid that eased her pain and helped her sleep. Another drink of water followed before he carefully guided her head back to the pillow, where she became so still so suddenly that she already looked dead. If not for the sound of her shallow breathing, he might think that her declarations had come with her dying breath. But even if she still held on for days, he had a feeling she’d spoken the last of anything significant she might say. She’d obviously had serious conversations about her final wishes with her parents. She looked serene and at peace. Henry was glad for that; he only wished that he could feel anything close to the same.

Since it was typically Amala’s time to sit with Kat, he pressed a kiss to Kat’s forehead and hurried from the room without uttering a single word to Amala. He could feel the anger inside of him growing, even though he knew it was only masking a barrage of other emotions that he didn’t know how to face or deal with. He only knew that he had to be alone until he could find a way to gain some control over what Kat had just thrown in his face—on her deathbed, no less. He rushed down the back stairs, wanting to avoid running into anyone in the family, and hurried out to the carriage house, ignoring the bitter cold and the fact that he’d not even bothered to grab a coat. He was grateful to find no one there, which wasn’t unusual since Everett had died. The stable hands who had taken over his tasks never put the time or care into their work that Everett had.