CHAPTER 226: CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY SIX

Lady Blair snapped her medical bag shut with a crisp, definitive click. The afternoon sun streamed into Eric’s bedroom at the Carson mansion, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air and lending a warm, peaceful glow to the room.

"I’m surprised, Eric," Blair said, looking at him with a professional but genuinely pleased expression. She was a sharp, intelligent woman, whose calm demeanor hid a keen and observant mind. "You are doing much better now. Your sleep has improved, your moods are stable. Or is it just because it hasn’t rained lately?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eye.

Eric was sitting on the edge of his bed, where she had been conducting her assessment. He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that had become much more frequent in recent weeks. "It’s because I have someone who, when it does rain, drags me out into it and holds me tight until I stop feeling the dread," he replied, his voice full of a quiet love. He could hear the faint, happy sound of Delia’s laughter drifting up from the drawing room below, where she was entertaining his mother and grandmother.

Blair’s professional expression softened. "Indeed," she said simply. She understood. Delia was the best medicine he had ever had. "Well, continue to take your walks, and keep your mind occupied. You are on a very good path."

As she was about to leave, her hand on the doorknob, Eric’s voice stopped her. "I need your help, Blair."

Blair paused, turning back to him. Her expression was once again that of a doctor. "What is it, Eric?"

"It’s not for me, this time," he said, standing up and walking towards her. "I need you to perform a professional service. I need you to prove that my wife’s grandfather, Baron Edgar Ellington, is not mad." He saw the flicker of surprise in her eyes and continued. "His daughter-in-law has had him under a fraudulent conservatorship for years, based on a falsified medical assessment. I need a real one. Then, depending on the evaluation and the results, you might need to testify in an official capacity. Is that okay with you?"

Blair considered it for a moment, her gaze serious. "That won’t be a problem. I will make the arrangements to see him tomorrow," she replied. "But, Eric, you must understand, I will only tell the truth. If the evaluation results are not good, if the Baron is genuinely unwell, I will not manipulate my report for you or anyone else."

Eric let out a short, sarcastic laugh. "Of course, you won’t," he said. "You are an honest doctor, after all."

His change of tone made Blair’s eyes narrow slightly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"That’s why you told my wife all about my illness that time, wasn’t it?" he continued, the old grievance now a source of teasing between them. "You couldn’t possibly keep a secret, even for your patient."

Blair let out a sigh of slight annoyance, a sound he knew well. "You should have told her that yourself, from the beginning. It would have saved us all a great deal of trouble."

Eric was silent, looking around the room, at the bookshelves, at the fireplace, at anything but her.

Blair watched him, her instincts kicking in. He was hiding something. "Anything else you want to tell me?" she asked, her voice patient. "Or should I be on my way?"

Eric put on a fake look of confusion, his eyes wide and innocent. "What? No, nothing at all."

Blair sighed again, a long, weary sound. She walked over to a nearby armchair, pulled it across the rug, and sat down directly in front of him. "Alright, out with it," she said, folding her hands in her lap. "You have that look on your face. The one that says you’ve done something foolish and are trying to decide if you can get away with it. What is it this time?" She held up a hand. "And just so you know, I do not do counseling for married couples. I’m still unwed and blissfully ignorant of their specific troubles."

Eric looked genuinely shocked that she had seen through him so easily. "How did you know?"

"I’m a mind doctor, Eric. It’s my job to know," she replied dryly. She leaned forward. "So? What did you do?" She playfully hit her own forehead. "Please don’t tell me you’ve bought another failing shipping company without telling anyone."

"No, no, nothing like that," he said quickly. "Actually, there’s something I haven’t told my wife."

"Eric!" Blair said, her voice full of exasperation. "Is this becoming a thing for you now? Lying and hiding things from the one person you shouldn’t?"

"It’s not a lie!" he insisted, becoming defensive. "I just haven’t mentioned it."

Blair gave him a suspicious look.

Eric quickly defended himself. " I haven’t kept a mistress, or had any children outside our marriage, or gambled away the family fortune or involved myself in illegal tradings. It’s a small thing. It won’t be detrimental to anyone. It’s just... complicated. So, do I still need to tell her?" He was looking for her permission, for a professional opinion that would allow him to keep his small secret.

Blair looked at him, her humorous, teasing demeanor gone, replaced by a serious concern. "Eric," she said, her voice gentle but firm, "a relationship is not built on big truths and small secrets. It is built on a foundation of complete trust. If you start to decide what you do or don’t tell her based on what you think is ’detrimental’, you will start to hide everything that makes you look bad, or anything that might cause a difficult conversation. Do you think that’s a healthy relationship?"

Eric was silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. He knew she was right.

"I don’t know what this secret is," Blair continued, "but my advice is to tell her. And tell her soon. You should tell her before she finds it out herself from another source. Because the secret itself might be small, but the fact that you kept it from her could cause a misunderstanding that is much, much larger."

Eric lowered his head, a gesture of quiet defeat. He had come to her for a professional service and had ended up with a piece of personal advice that he didn’t want, but knew he needed.

Blair stood up, her point made. She moved the chair back to where she had found it and picked up her medical bag. "I’ll see myself out, then," she said, her tone back to its usual professional warmth. "I will come back again in a few days to give you my initial report on Baron Edgar." She offered him a small, formal curtsy and left, closing the door softly behind her.

Eric was left alone in the quiet room, the sound of Delia’s distant laughter now seeming less like a cheerful melody and more like a reminder of the trust he was putting at risk.