by Jane Charles
“However, the poor man had never contracted measles as a boy, unlike his friends.”
“Oh, dear,” Cait muttered and slid her gaze to Eve.
Eve did her best to mask her emotions, but worry began to eat at her with the knowledge that her guardian was suffering the same illness as so many girls in the school. They would recover quickly enough, but adults tended to suffer more.
“It’s the other reason I am here.” Claudia turned fully to Eve. “He is not well. The doctor has even mentioned grave.”
Why was Claudia looking at her? Nobody knew of Eve’s connection to Kilsyth, other than Cait, in whom she’d confided. Not even Mrs. Wiggons or Bernadette knew that in addition to bringing the news of Brendan’s death to Cait that Eve had also left her guardian.
“Why did you think Kilsyth came to Kirksbury?”
That question alone caused her heart to speed.
“I can assure you, Kilsyth didn’t come to visit my husband, but for you.”
He knew she was here! How had he figured it out?
Her stomach tied in knots. Why had Kilsyth come for her? Was it because he cared or because it was his duty as her guardian. Eve was almost afraid to find out the answer.
“He waited until the crises of illness passed, or that had been his plan because he wasn’t going to expose himself to the disease. Except, he contracted the illness anyway and has been ill for two days.”
“How ill is he?”
“I mentioned grave. The doctor is concerned.”
Eve brought a hand to her tightening throat as panic set in. She wanted to run away to protect her heart, but she certainly never wished Kilsyth ill.
“As he came here for you, I thought perhaps you might wish to go to him before…”
Claudia didn’t finish her sentence, but it was clear she was about to say “it’s too late.”
Cait stood. “I’ll go with you Eve.”
She dismissed her sister. “You need to stay and help the students. If I need you, I’ll send for you.” Eve set her tea aside and straightened her skirt with trembling fingers. “How bad is he?”
“His fever has been high, and he’s suffered a bit of delirium. We’ve tried to make him comfortable, but…”
Eve swallowed against the lump in her throat. Kilsyth could not die. She would not allow it.
Chapter 25
He couldn’t die. Not before he saw Eve again. But Henry was so bloody miserable that he wanted to die.
Maybe he was already dead. It certainly felt as if the flames of hell were licking at his skin, the heat ready to devour him at any minute.
Why did we keep her? He should ask Pickmore, but he wasn’t here. If Henry had have let Eve go as she wished, he’d still have his heart.
She hated him, and with good reason.
He’d treated her atrociously and knew better.
She had gumption and was the most beautiful woman of his acquaintance. Intelligent and sweet and the most expressive green eyes.
Why the blazes had he ever thought she’d make a good spy?
Actually, she’d make an excellent spy amongst Society, but he couldn’t allow that. It was too dangerous. Eve must be safe.
What if he was already in hell? He was on fire, and even his throat burned, and his body ached worse than when he had rolled with the carriage.
He should have gone to church more, but intellectually he never really believed in God or Satan. It was too hard to comprehend.
He should have followed his mother’s blind faith because this could be hell.
They thought being called the Devils of Dalston a lark. There was nothing humorous about being devils. At least, not any more.
And, he’d never see Eve again. She’d never know that he’d fallen in love with her.
Love. Another incomprehensible idea, like heaven and hell.
He’d been such an idiot. Oh, if he were only given one more chance, Henry would grovel and do whatever was necessary to win her back and make up for all of the wrongs.
If he were in hell, where were the screams of anguish? Or were all the lost souls forced to cry out silently? Instead, he only caught bits of murmuring far beyond him, softer tones, and he couldn’t make out any of the words being said.
Was this another form of torture? He’d hear voices, but never understand?
If Henry could but open his eyes and look around, maybe he’d have an answer, but his eyelids refused to rise no matter how much he wished. And, perhaps he didn’t want to see the horrors before him. At least not yet.
One day he’d open his eyes. Maybe.
For a brief moment, cold comfort caressed his brow, then his face, but disappeared.
Was he to be allowed only a brief moment of comfort before the heat invaded again?
Henry licked his parched lips, wishing for water or tea, but nothing came. There was no water in hell and his mouth would remain dry and soon, his lips would crack from the heat.
Eve. His heart ached with the loss. If only he’d told her of his feelings while he had a chance. Would it have made a difference? Would she have run away?
Except, he wasn’t even certain of the love before she was gone. It took her leaving to face the reality of his heart.
He’d been a bloody fool and now he’d pay for all of eternity.
Another cool cloth brushed across his face bringing temporary relief. If his face was being cooled, why couldn’t he have a sip of water? He tried to lick his lips again but his mouth was as dry as a desert.
Murmurs grew near and he strained to hear, to make out the words, but they were too quiet.
Something lifted him from behind. Was he going to be thrust into the flames now?
Panic rose and he tried to fight but it was if his limbs were restrained and he had no strength to fight. A moment later something was pressed to his lips and a trickle of cool water caressed his tongue. Henry strained to take in more but whatever demon was helping him teased with only a few drops at a time. He needed more. So much more, but then it was taken away and he drifted backwards again.
Then the murmurs disappeared and he was left in silence
Eve had been beside Kilsyth’s bed for nearly a day but there’d been no improvement. He was out of his mind with fever. She assumed he suffered from delirium because the few words she’d been able to make out made no sense. At least not in any context that she could understand. However, he had said her name a few times. She just wished she knew whether his thoughts were pleasant or not.
His fever had spiked a few moments ago and it was time to cool him down again. They had been able to manage it, for short times, but were never able to make the fever break completely and she feared what would become of him if they couldn’t bring it down permanently.
“Please give Lord Kilsyth more Dover’s Powder, then strip and wash his body until his temperature drops,” she instructed the footman who stood by the door. There was always a footman close for anything she needed.
“He did drink the water, and for that I’m grateful. If you can, see if you can get him to drink more.”
“Of course, Miss Doyle,” he answered as she quit the room.
Exhausted, she leaned against the corridor wall after the chamber door closed behind her.
“Is he any better?”
Eve glanced up to find Pickmore walking toward her. He held his side as if movement still pained him.
“No. Not really,” she finally answered.
“You should rest.”
“I can’t. Not until he is on the mend.” Eve glanced back at the closed door. “I just wish I knew what he was saying, or could understand more of his words, but I’m afraid even then, nothing would make sense.”
Pickmore frowned. “He’s talking.”
“He’s delirious, but some words were clear.”
“Come downstairs. Tea is waiting and we can discuss them while he is being seen to.” Reluctantly, Eve allowed Pickmore to lead her from the chamber door. Perhaps a cup of tea would restore her ene
rgy, though it would do little to restore her hope.
“So, what has Kilsyth muttered in his delirium?” Pickmore asked as they entered the sitting room.
Eve stopped and looked around. She’d forgotten that others were also at Harrington Manor. She’d met them, of course, when they came to check on Kilsyth and introduced themselves, but she’d not encountered his friends gathered in one place like they were now, and when they came to their feet at her entrance, it was all rather intimidating.
“I’m certain it’s not important,” Eve finally said as she took a chair.
“Humor me,” Pickmore insisted.
Eve was just as certain he wished to keep her mind off of Kilsyth’s fever and the direness of the situation.
“Very well.” She pulled a sheet of foolscap and spectacles from a pocket. “I started writing down the words I understood in hopes of them making sense, but they don’t.”
“Kilsyth is talking in his delirium?” Ashford asked with concern. “I hope it’s of current events and not reliving his days at Eton and Cambridge.”
Keegan laughed. “I doubt Miss Doyle would have mentioned it if he were.”
“She’d be too scandalized to do so,” Norbright laughed.
Pickmore had told her that Kilsyth had once been a prankster, but she found it difficult to believe. He was far too serious all of the time to have ever been free enough to try to make a fool out of another.
“Tea, Eve?” Lady Norbright asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Are you certain you don’t wish to rest?” Her blue eyes laced with concern.
“I’ll rest when Lord Kilsyth is better. I don’t want to be asleep if he should take a turn…”
“Fear not, Miss Doyle. Kilsyth is far too stubborn to die,” Pickmore insisted. “You, of all people, know how obstinate he can be.”
A smile pulled at her lips. Kilsyth was persistent and dictatorial. He’d not leave this earth until he was ready.
“Thank you,” Eve accepted the tea and took a sip.
“So, what has Kilsyth been mumbling about?” Keegan asked. “If you wrote it down, it can’t be so scandalous.”
“The words I was able to capture made little sense, I assure you.” She then picked up the parchment and read. “Hell, Pickmore, knew better, keep her, intelligent, good spy, Society, Eve, safe, devils, idiot, torture, Eve, run away, fool, eternity.”
She set it aside and looked up to find Kilsyths’ friends staring at her.
“As I said, the words make little sense.”
“He mentioned you twice,” Lady Norbright offered.
While Eve wanted to be hopeful, she wasn’t. He could have been saying her name in any context and the fact that he was out of his mind with fever meant it was unlikely there was any comprehensible thought process.
“I’m concerned about you, Miss Doyle,” Pickmore said after a moment. “Kilsyth would have my head if you became ill due to exhaustion. You should allow us to sit with him while you rest.”
“I am fine, Captain Pickmore,” she assured him.
“I’m in agreement, Miss Doyle,” Ashford said with concern. “We should be taking care of our friend. Not you.”
“It is of no trouble, and I am his ward.” She took another sip.
“You know, getting up and down those stairs each day is an inconvenience. Once I go up, I’ll sit with him tonight and sleep tomorrow.”
“I agree,” Norbright said. “I’ll take a shift as well. Miss Doyle should rest.”
Eve set her tea cup aside and looked at the gentlemen gathered. They’d sat with Kilsyth before she had arrived then easily given up a seat beside the bed for her. They’d come to check on him a few times, but none hovered. Why the concern now? It wasn’t just for her.
She picked up the list of words and read them again. What did they note that she hadn’t?
What were they afraid of her finding out?
Hell, Pickmore, knew better, keep her, intelligent, good spy, Society, Eve, safe, devils, idiot, torture, Eve, run away, fool, eternity.
Hell meant nothing to her and could be used in any context from the place to a curse.
Pickmore, knew better, keep her.
“Did you not think Kilsyth should have kept me?” she directed the question at the captain. “Who should have known better?”
“Kilsyth didn’t intend to keep you at first. In fact, he assumed your brother was there to try and fleece him. It was after he realized the grave circumstance that you were in that he decided to remain as your guardian.”
“But, did you think I should have gone?” Eve asked pointedly.
Pickmore rubbed his temples. “I can’t honestly recall, Miss Doyle. I had concerns, but I didn’t expect Kilsyth to throw you out on the street, either.”
They hadn’t known each other that first day and she could well understand why Pickmore may have urged caution.
Eve glanced at the list again. Intelligent. It was another generic word that could mean almost anything so she decided not to waste further time on it.
Good spy, Society. This time she frowned. Why would Kilsyth know anything about a good spy and what did it have to do with Society?
“Eve, I can assure you that most of those words meant something, as you’ve determined yourself,” Lady Norbright began. “However, you would not have given them further consideration had the gentlemen in this room not lacked subtlety.”
Eve glanced from one face to the next. There was real concern and she mentally reviewed the list and one word popped up. “Are you afraid that I’ll learn that Kilsyth is one of the Devils of Dalston?”
“Why would you think such a thing?” Keegan asked.
“I overheard his mother speaking of it with Pickmore one morning. She had hoped Kilsyth would be done with them.” A smile pulled at her lips. “With you. You are all Devils, aren’t you?”
At least they had the good sense to look away from her in embarrassment, though they didn’t fit the image of what she had in her head for an infamous Devil of Dalston. These were gentlemen who had been kind to her. Respectable even. Of course, they were injured so their rakish ways would need to be put aside until they recovered, but these men did not fit the image. Then again, many in Society wore a mask….Wore a mask!
She glanced at the list again. Good spy, Society.
Was Kilsyth a spy?
Goodness, perhaps she should rest. Her imagination was certainly getting away from her.
Lady Norbright took the list from Eve and handed it to Pickmore. “She’s begun to figure it out and she will the rest.”
“Not necessarily,” he grumbled quietly as if he were a chastised child.
“First of all, she is not going to relinquish the care of Kilsyth over to the four of you. And, as such, she will hear more because it is doubtful Kilsyth will be free of his delirium until the fever passes.” Lady Norbright leveled her eyes on Pickmore. “You’d best come clean now.”
“Can we trust her?” Ashford speared Eve a look as if he didn’t care for her.
“She’s barely left Kilsyth’s side. Do you think she’d see him recovered and then speak out of turn and leave him vulnerable, or risk the danger?” Lady Norbright retorted with a raised eyebrow.
What could be so dire and serious, unless they were all spies.
“Besides, she’s bound to learn sooner or later from Kilsyth.”
Eve doubted that, but she’d really like to know what secret they were trying to protect.
“Of course, you are correct,” Ashford blew out a sigh then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Tell her but make sure she understands the gravity of what she’s about to learn.”
“I’m fairly certain you just did that yourself,” Pickmore grumbled and turned to Eve.
Chapter 26
Henry opened his eyes to a dark room. The only light came from a candle on a far table. How late was it?
Eve sat in a chair, her legs tucked and curled beneath her and her head resting against
the back, and eyes closed.
Why was she sleeping in a chair?
He pushed up on his elbows, then fell back against the pillows. Bloody hell! A newborn had more strength than he did.
What the blazes…? Measles. Lady Norbright had told him that he had measles and sent him to bed. His cough had gotten worse and the rash had spread, but how long ago was that? How long did measles last and when did Eve arrive? And, why the blazes was she sleeping in a chair?
“Is there anything I can get you, Lord Kilsyth?”
He blinked up at a footman who seemed to have come from nowhere.
“Can you help me sit and bring me some water.” His mouth was so dry.
“Of course.” The man helped Henry sit forward because he barely had the strength to do so himself, then added pillows behind Henry so that he could remain upright before handing him a cool glass of water. The cool water was a relief to his parched throat.
“How long has Miss Doyle been here?”
“Two days, Lord Kilsyth.”
“Two days!”
His voice boomed, louder than he’d expected and he quickly glanced over to Eve. She stirred, then slowly opened her eyes. In an instant, she pulled herself from the chair, smoothed her skirts and rushed forward. Without asking, she placed the back of her hand to his forehead and then cheeks before she blew out a sigh. “Your fever has finally broken, thank goodness.”
“I had a fever?”
“A very high fever. You were delirious. We feared…”
Had she expected him to die? How sick had he been if she’d been here for two days? How long had it been since he was sent to his chamber? “How long have I been sick?”
“This is the fifth day.” She offered him a relieved smile. “But you will recover.”
“I don’t remember much beyond being sent to my bed like a child,” he grumbled.
She laughed. “Well, you were very sick so maybe it’s best that you don’t recall.”
Now that Eve was closer, Henry could study her better. She looked awful. Her hair, which was at one time in place, had pieces coming loose and tendrils curled about her head and shoulders, and was in need of brushing. There were also dark smudges beneath her soft green eyes and there was little color to her cheeks. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.