Chapter 42
Lewis toyed with the glass of brandy on his desk. As reluctant as he was to admit it, his father may have had a point regarding how frequently he’d imbibed his brandy.
Not that Father could anymore. Now he spent his days lolling in a wicker wheelchair, drooling down his front, and his nights confined to bed.
Lewis had just returned from a duty call to his father in Gramercy. He cared enough about what the neighbors might think to visit at least once a week.
The house on Park Avenue was quiet. That mealy-mouthed b***h Lewis had married had taken the children to visit her sister up in Boston. Lewis knew that was just an excuse, though. Since he’d lost his right hand, she’d used every pretext she could come up with to avoid being in the same room with him, let alone the same ho
