Chapter 2087

Later that evening, after dinner, Cecilia stepped into the vast living room of Rainsworth Manor and was greeted by a wall of raw, pungent alcohol fumes.

Cecilia paused in the doorway, a tight furrow pinching the space between her brows. “What on earth happened here?”

She hurried across the room. Only then did she see Nathaniel sprawled bonelessly across the couch, his jacket half-open, his tie twisted in his fist like a tourniquet.

He kept yanking at the silk, muttering words lost in a fog of liquor.

After setting the grocery bags on a side table, she leaned in and spoke his name as gently as she could. “Nathaniel.”

He slept fitfully, head lolling against the cushions, too drunk to register the voice that had guided him home for years.

The reek of whiskey hit her hard. Cecilia grimaced and turned toward the hallway, ready to call for Theresa and have a pot of sobering soup started.