In My Wildest Fantasies Read Online Free PDF

confident, and Devon felt certain that whatever problems had arisen while he was gone, they had been kept well in hand.
    "Good God, man," Blake said, pumping his hand firmly and squeezing his elbow. "You've been in the sun. You look like a pirate."
    Devon laughed. "I spent every possible minute up on deck during the crossing, which I am sure you would have done, too, had you been there. This rain...." He turned to direct his comment at Charlotte and their mother. "Will it ever stop?"
    "We are all wondering the same thing," Blake replied, then his voice took on a twinge of resignation. "But the weather is a taboo subject around here. Isn't that right, Mother?"
    She nodded. "Yes, it is."
    Devon narrowed his gaze, looking at each of them in turn.
    He faced his brother again. "You have all worked very hard to drag me home from America, and I can see you are itching to tell me something. Accompany me to the library, if you will, Blake. You know how I hate being kept in the dark."
    Blake's face clouded over with uneasiness. He took a deep breath and let it out. "Indeed, there is much to discuss, and there is no point putting it off. The library it is, then. Is it too early in the day for a brandy?"
    "Not by my watch," Devon replied. "Judging by the look of dread on your face, something tells me I'm going to need it."
    "So here it is in a nutshell," Blake said, his voice somber as he handed a glass to Devon. "It's Father. I am sorry to be the one to tell you this, but he appears to be...Well, there is no polite way to put it. We all believe he is..." He paused a moment and took a drink. "Father is going mad."
    Devon accepted the glass without looking at it, because it was all he could do to keep his eyes steady on his brother. "Mad, you say."
    "Yes, mad. Rattled in the brain, nutty as a fruitcake, cuckoo, loony, out of his tree..."
    Devon held up a hand. "I get the picture, Blake. Has the physician been summoned?"
    "Yes, a few times over the past few months, but he assures us Father is in perfect health."
    "But you believe otherwise," Devon said, watching his brother carefully as he sipped his brandy. "Did you tell this to the doctor?"
    "Of course. Mother and I both have, but whenever he comes to perform an examination, Father is perfectly lucid and explains everything quite sensibly, so the doctor thinks we are overreacting, and that we simply do not understand his eccentric disposition." Blake strode across the room to the desk in front of the window and leaned back upon it. "Dr. Lambert's a bloody brownnoser if you ask me. He's been the family physican for thirty years and he expects something from Father in the will, no doubt. He doesn't want to cross him." His voice grew resigned. "Father is sixty-nine now, Devon. He is not going to live forever."
    Devon gazed down at the brandy in his glass. "I am aware." He took a slow sip. Outside the window, the rain came down harder, driving against the panes. "But tell me of his behavior. What evidence do you have to support your suspicions?"
    Blake's dark brows lifted--as if he had a whole list of examples, but didn't know where to begin.
    "About six months ago, he began to have trouble sleeping. Now, every night, he gets up and wanders the dark corridors for hours in his nightshirt and slippers. He often talks to himself and speaks about our ancestors and what he knows about their lives."
    Devon went to the sofa and sat down. For a long moment, he considered what his brother was describing to him.
    "I admit," he said, "that this is disturbing to hear, but perhaps the doctor has a point. You said yourself that Father is sixty-nine now. This sounds to me like nothing more than the eccentricities of old age. He is simply reminiscing about the past. Perhaps that is why the doctor is not overly concerned."
    His brother took another sip of brandy. He looked tired all of a sudden and shook his head.
    "You seem disappointed," Devon said, as a small twinge of displeasure nipped at his mood. "Were