The Duke's Bidding

Chapter 13

There were times when the aftermath of a good storm lulled him to sleep. Tonight was not one of those. John prowled the room akin to a caged tiger. It was one of the downsides of being back on land. He felt trapped and could do nothing about it. Yesterday was his first day back at Cedar Lane and John spent most of it worrying about the girl. She was restless in her sleep, and that kept him from getting any rest himself. Throughout the day, he and Robert spent time catching up and reminiscing on the past. It was hard to imagine that years had passed, the two of them quickly fell in their old habits, talking about their triumphs and setbacks, happiness and sorrows. For a few hours, it felt like they were never apart. He really did miss his old friend.

It was now two in the morning, and John was experiencing cabin fever all over again. The storm had forced everyone to stay indoors, and after two days of non-stop rain, it was too muddy to try riding. When he lived on board his ship, moments like this didn't phase John. He would head to the bow and stare out to the open sea, breathe in the salty air or even climb the mast and marvel at the clear skies. But being back in society meant being trapped indoors, even if it was his own home. Maybe a book might help. Impatient, John headed to the library hoping the effort would help calm him enough to sleep.

The passage of eight long years had not brought any changes to the Library. John climbed to the loft where he kept a shelf dedicated to his personal books. He ran his fingers against the spines of a few of them and came across a volume on public education. He couldn't help smiling at the memory it triggered. He looked over at the cluster of chairs near the alcove. He still remembered finding the pair of pink slippers peeking out from under the window curtain. He was sure that his prank would absolve him and entertain Robert and himself but he didn't account for her reaction. I wonder whatever happened to her.

John grabbed the most boring book he could find and sauntered down the stairs. That's when he noticed the pile of books stacked on the floor by the Duke's favorite armchair. Curious. His father was meticulous in his habits and would never allow such a mess. This made John wonder about the content of the books. From what he was told, the Duke rarely visited Cedar Lane. This meant that the staff was given specific instructions to leave this pile alone. John knelt and looked through the stack. The strangest book caught his attention-a red leather bound volume with a handwritten title, A History of Pirates: Infested in the China Sea, scrawled neatly across the cover. It was an unusual book to say the least. It was an account of translated reports from Chinese to English. In it, on loose pieces of paper were questions about the work, neatly scrawled in his father's distinct style. John skimmed the first few pages, vaguely understanding the gist of the content. Conquerors are deemed successful robbers, while robbers are unsuccessful conquerors-leave it to the Duke to find the most obscure account of piracy and use it to gain information about his son's whereabouts.

John shook his head. Although he was surprised, it made complete sense that his father would read about his routes. The Duke always kept abreast of all his adventures.

Twenty minutes later, John walked back to his room, jauntily whistling a maritime tune about the fate of a seafaring pirate, with a tattered copy of A Treatise on Mummifying Corpses in Ancient Egypt. That should put him right to sleep.

He walked through the connecting door to check on the girl before settling down with his book. He was actually looking forward to getting some sleep tonight. He could see she was asleep but her breathing was uneven, he reached out and touched her temple. Heat was radiating from her temple, he swore under his breath. So much for settling down with his book. John took the pitcher and basin from the side table to her bedside. What can I use? He poured some water in the basin, went to the other room, and grabbed a clean cravat from his dresser. Returning to her side, John spent the next twenty minutes trying to cool her down by wiping her face and hands with the cloth.