“Of course, my lady.” The man was moving off up the hall, no doubt in search of the requested servants even as Suzette reached the door to the office. Too anxious to bother knocking, she opened it at once and started in, only to pause abruptly at the state of the room. The first thing of note was the smell, the acrid scent of stale pipe smoke and old booze permeated the air and struck her like a fist. Suzette wrinkled her nose with a disgust that only increased as her gaze slid over the empty glasses and plates strewn about the room. Most seemed concentrated around two chairs set by the fire, though there were nearly as many covering the desk’s surface around their father’s slumped form. While the glasses were all empty of liquid, each plate held a half-eaten or untouched meal left to spoil. It was apparent their father had spent most of this last month in this room. Judging by the smell and state of things, he’d spent most of that time drinking and puffing away on his pipe and very little time or energy eating.

“Oh dear,” Lisa breathed. “Something must be terribly wrong.”

Suzette grimaced at the vast understatement. This just was not like the Cedrick Madison who had raised them. Obviously, there was something terribly wrong. Their father was without a jacket, his shirtsleeves rolled up, and his hair a ruffled mess. He also lay with his head on his arms on the desktop, obviously asleep, or passed out. She couldn’t be sure which.

Swallowing the lump that worry had lodged in her throat, Suzette pushed the door closed and moved toward the desk, saying softly, “Father?”

“He is just sleeping, isn’t he?” Lisa asked worriedly as they paused at the front of the desk.

Concern growing at the question, Suzette leaned forward to nudge her father’s arm and was immediately sorry she had. He did respond to it, rearing upright and then dropping back in his seat, but the man they were now confronted with was even less the Cedrick Madison they knew than they’d first thought. This man had bloodshot eyes, a sallow complexion, and a couple weeks’ worth of facial hair that held bits of food caught in it. He also wore a shirt that obviously hadn’t been changed in a while, but was a wordless menu of the meals he’d half eaten lately. He smelled atrocious.

Suzette retrieved a hanky from up her sleeve and held it to her nose so as to avoid the smell.

“Papa?” Lisa breathed with disbelief.

Cedrick Madison blinked at them owlishly, confusion on his face. “Damn me, what’re ye doin’ here?” he asked, his voice faint and bewildered as his bleary gaze slid from Suzette to Lisa, and then he peered around with uncertainty. “Where’m I? Did I come home, then?”