What Love Demands by Renata North

Author:Renata North [North, Renata]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC027170 FICTION / Romance / Historical / Victorian
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2023-02-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Before she entered the sick room, Cora spoke with Mrs. Tucker who informed her that Mr. Tucker was in a rare lucid state though already calling for spirits at daybreak.

“If he doesn’t get the drink, he flies into a rage and says the ugliest things. Yesterday, after he screamed blue murder and called me Satan’s witchy spawn, his eyes rolled back, and he went into fits. When he came to his senses, I spooned an ounce of brandy into his mouth and that calmed him, though he soon wanted more.”

“You did the right thing, Mrs. Tucker,” said Cora. “The drink will take him. It’s likely only a matter of days, but he’ll suffer less if he receives what he craves.”

“But didn’t you tell him to lay off it?” Mrs. Tucker took Cora’s cape and hung it on a hook by the door.

“Yes, I did. And if he had, it might have bought him some time, given his liver a chance to heal. But now his organs are so weak, he’s past the point of no return and it’s better if he has the comfort of his vice.”

“The drink.”

“Precisely. I’ll look in on him, Mrs. Tucker, but by what you’re telling me, I think it mightn’t be too soon to fetch your vicar.”

“Very well.” Mrs. Tucker’s eyes glistened with tears. “You warned me the final days would come.”

Cora took Mrs. Tucker’s hand and spoke softly. “You’ve kept Mr. Tucker alive longer than most wives would’ve managed.”

“Because I love him, Cora,” she sobbed. “When he’s sober, or at least only a little drunk, he’s the kindest, most thoughtful husband a wife could want. Charles’ good days more than make up for the bad days. And on those days, well…” Mrs. Tucker scowled. “Those days he’s the very devil.”

Cora frowned in empathy. “Drink is a curse and the ruin of many a man. Mr. Tucker has always been very kind to Aunt Jenny and me. Father valued his friendship very highly and respected his advice.”

“So many people have told me the same, and it’s bittersweet to hear it.”

After she collected herself, Mrs. Tucker said, “Could you take him a glass? I feel as if I’m poisoning him whenever I bring it to him. As if I’m kicking him closer to the edge of a cliff.”

“Yes, I can do that,” Cora nodded. “You mentioned he’s lucid, so I’ll broach the subject of his future. Better he has a drink in hand than—”

From the floor above, a startling, shrill cry lifted the fine hair on Cora’s neck. “Sweetums! Where’s my bottle?”

“Coming, Charles,” Mrs. Tucker called back. “Cora’s here and she’ll bring it up.”

“Tell her to hurry, will you? I don’t have all day.”

With a pained look up the stairs, Mrs. Tucker muttered, “You do have all day, you bloody old buzzard.” Seeing Cora’s raised eyebrows, she said, “He is an old buzzard. A lovable old buzzard and he shall have whatever he wants, bless the old devil. On Cora’s orders.”

****

For the reward of a

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