Chapter Thirty-Three
I sat in my bed, looking up at the window. The day was clouded over still from the day before, the rain falling more harshly. Thunder sounded far off, a flash of lightening filled the room every so often. I was exhausted. I could barely keep my own head up. I felt dizzy, completely unable to even function without the aid of someone else.
On top of that, I had the embarrassment of being sick three times during the night. Rose or Colette helped me, but my chamber pot took the brunt of it. There was nothing in my stomach to expel, just water. My throat burned, and my body was shaky and sweaty afterward as I collapsed in their arms.
I felt worse. A new day, another day, and I felt worse. It felt as if the life was being drained out of me, the thought of my only comfort being Lucien. My thoughts of Lucien made me worse, though, causing me to weep. Did weeping help my situation? No, of course not. I would cry until I felt nauseous, again.
I could hear my mother’s voice in my ears, telling me that crying was not going to help the situation. It was always her voice telling me that weeping did nothing. It would only make me feel worse. “Act like a sauce bottle, and give yourself a shake,” she would say, but I didn’t have the energy for that.
At that moment, I missed my mother and how good she was at taking care of me when I was ill, which was often when I was younger. I remembered her auburn hair and green eyes, how easily comforting me was when she was around, but she was not there.
I could feel a cold sweat all over me. Drops stuck to my upper lip, my forehead, and my body, making it uncomfortable underneath my nightgown and the linens. It was the rule, though. I needed to be covered up. The physician, on his third visit, was adamant about it. I needed to be covered up and drink lots of fluids. Otherwise, we would need to use leeches—a thought that made me shudder.
I watched as the gray sky sat still, the rain falling against the glass. Light tapping that turned fierce and tapered off again. What did looking at the sky do? I disliked how the days had turned like my mood—dark, depressing, confining, and nothing but tears to rain down and the thundering of my head and heart. The similarities were painful, the rush of it running over me like the lightening. I disliked the imitation of the weather.
I sighed as Toulouse jumped up, purring with his eyes slightly closing as he pushed his head into my arm, obviously wanting me to pet him. I looked at him, that sharp pain returning. I remembered how happy Lucien was when he gave the little kitten to me. The kitten that was growing quickly into a full grown cat. Then, I remembered that night—the dinner party, our heated moment in the chapel, and our first time making love.
My eyes filled with tears, my heart feeling like it was going to fall out of my chest. Thunder filled the room. Toulouse continued to head-butt me, but I shook my head, my vision blurring from my tears. I crossed my arms from him.
The sight of my beloved creature pained me so much! This creature that stayed by me, guarding me, and keeping watch while I was sick. He barely left the room, except when he left to prowl about, get a meal, or go outside for a bit. I could barely look at him without that ache filling me, and the thought of petting him and loving him making it that much worse. I didn’t have the love of the one I truly wanted. Though Toulouse’s love was much appreciated, it was still painful.
Rose sat in the chair next to me, dozing, and not really paying attention. They all were able to relax, since I couldn’t get up. My legs would go out from me, and I would fall to the floor. I could barely support myself as I got up from the bed to use the stupid piss pot. I missed being able to visit the water closet, going by myself and not worrying about my maid or friend seeing me urinating in a porcelain pail behind my changing screen. It was an equivalent embarrassment to my calls of me going to be sick and needing assistance.
My fingertips felt cold, my lips dry…how much sleep have I actually gotten?
The only thought that comforted me was that my father was going to be home in a week—eight days, actually. He had written me, assured me that he was on the trek back. It was a ten-day travel back to Paris, but an easy one for him. I didn’t have the strength to lift a quill, so I couldn’t write him to tell him of my illness. I turned to Rose. Her eyes were closed, and she still wore the same attire as the day before.
“Rose?”
“Hmmm?” Her head turned toward me and her eyes opened slowly.
“Can you write a letter for me?” I pointed toward the secrétaire tiredly. A pain filled me as I thought of my many hours sitting at it while reading Lucien’s letters and writing my responses.
She nodded, yawned, and walked over to the secrétaire. She sat down at it and got everything settled.
“Who is it to?”
“My father,” I sighed. “Dear Pa-pa. I know this letter will be a surprise.”
I watched as she scratched it down, giving her a moment to collect all the words. Though, I was sure she had enough time, as my voice was slow, pressured. Even speaking was a chore.
“I thought I should inform you that I have taken ill, but Colette and her household are doing their best to get me well before I travel back to the country, as I will be staying with Colette’s grandmother until you return home.”
She looked up to me, confused. “What?”
“Once I am well enough, I am going to stay with Colette’s grandmother. She told me that at any time I could stay with her. I will also need you to please write a letter to warn her of my arrival in two days, on Saturday.”
She turned in the seat to face me. “No, Maddy darling. How do you know you will be well enough to travel?”
I shook my head. “I don’t, but I know that I cannot stay here.”
“Why? Do you know what Colette will say?”
She stood up, walked over to my right side, and sat down on the bed.
“He is everywhere,” I said, my eyes filling with tears. “I cannot even stand to look at Toulouse. I have to leave here.”
She looked to my hand, taking it in hers. “Well, at least wait a day. Will you do that for me? If tomorrow you feel you cannot stay here, I will write to Colette’s grandmother and send the letter to your father. All right?”
I shook my head, feeling agitated. “I can’t. I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can.” She stroked my cheek, wiping tears away. “Right now, you feel overwhelmed, because you are physically sick as well. As soon as you feel better, you will realize that everything is not as it seems.”
“If I do not?” I asked, another stream of tears slipping quickly down my face.
She shook her head. “You cannot think like that. I know that it hurts. I know that you feel terrible, but it is only because you are also sick. You need to rest. You need to get better physically before you can assess how you truly feel mentally. Please?”
I bit at my lip, nodding. “All right. I will wait until tomorrow. I warn you, though. I will still want to go tomorrow.”
She nodded. “That is fine. Just take the time to think it over, today. I will put the letter in the top drawer of the secrétaire, and if you want to leave still, I will finish it and send it off. Do you know where your father will be tomorrow night? Where he will be stopping?”
I shook my head, wiping my tears, “No, but his subordinate will know. He has been receiving word as much as I have from him.”
“All right. Do you want to try eating some soup? You need to eat something.” She stroked my hair off my face.
I shook my head. “No, I can’t. You know it will just come back up, again. I am sorry about you seeing me like this, for seeing that particularly, and my use of the chamber pot.”
She smiled. “Oh, I don’t mind. I took care of Albert. His death was not a quick one. He was sick for a while.”
“What…how did he die?” I asked, not knowing that story. All I knew of the Duc Albert Downs was that he had died and was a controlling man.
“Tuberculosis,” she said while standing. She walked around the bed and over to her chair.
She passed by it and grabbed my glass of water, handing it to me. “He was in a lot of pain near the end. He had his good days and bad days, but of course, those good days were still quite bad. His spine started to twist in the most horrendous way. When they did his autopsy, they found his lungs fused to his ribs.”
I swallowed my sip of water harshly, almost coughing as I felt it painfully go down, like I had swallowed a rock.
“This is different in that you will recover and be that bright and beautiful woman you were before.” She stroked my hair out of my face, careful of the blue ribbon that held it back.
“I doubt that.” I looked down to my glass.
She frowned. “He is a fool for what he has done to you.”
I kept my eyes on my glass, trying to keep the tears that had pooled in them from overflowing.
God, how many tears do I have left?
“I miss him. Is that not foolish?” I asked. “The terrible things he said to me, saying I was one of them. A villain. That’s what he called them once—villains. Am I really so bad?”
She shook her head. “He is being foolish, Maddy darling. You know that! What is worse is that he knows of Cognet. He knows how much of a little rat he is.”
“Apparently not. He thought me capable of deceiving him.” I sobbed, my whole body heaving and tears running down my face.
“Oh, don’t cry.” She sat up on the bed beside me and held me in her arms. “You did nothing wrong—”
“I should have told him. I should have told him about the party. I didn’t want him to get angry, but I should have told him,” I sniffed, a sob getting caught in my throat.
“There is nothing that you can change, darling.” She put her hands on either side of my face, pulling it up to look her in the eyes. “You cannot change it. I know it hurts, but you must trust me that it only hurts for a little while.”
“I hate feeling like this!”
“It will pass. Remember, I have been through this. It will be fine, I promise,” she assured me, trying to calm me.
I nodded, taking deep breaths to calm myself. “What of Armand?” I asked, sniffing and handing her the water.
“What of him?” Colette asked from the doorway.
We looked up at her, and I shook my head. “I was just wondering if anyone heard from him.”
“Of course not,” she said as she walked forward. Her green gown was not very bright, but it was a welcomed sight of color besides the tone of the bedchamber. “How do you feel?”
I shook my head. “No better than before.”
She frowned, walking over to Rose. “You are now relieved. I believe your attending lady brought you a fresh gown, and the cook has made you a plate of something.”
Rose nodded. “Sounds delicious. I shall be back, Maddy darling, after a little break.”
I nodded as I watched her walk out of the room. Colette walked up beside me and took her place, sitting in the chair by my bedside.
She pointed to a fairly good-sized porcelain bowl with little blue designs around the rim that sat on the side table. “Brielle brought this for if you feel sick, again. That way, we don’t need to make a dash for the chamber pot.”
I looked to it, nodding. “Lovely.”
“Are you hungry? I think you should probably try something, like soup?”
She went to grab the rope to summon Brielle but I shook my head.
“I will just vomit it back up, again. That is something I would rather much like to avoid.”
“Maddy, you need to eat. You haven’t eaten since last evening. You need to have something, or else you will waste away,” she said pointedly.
I looked to the window, my head lying back on the pillow. “So be it.”
“Stop being ridiculous, Madeleine. I know you are ill, but that does not give you the right to be so damned sullen.” She crossed her arms, glaring at me.
I turned to her. “It doesn’t? What of a broken heart? Does that not warrant a little pity? Does it make you happy that he has left me here, broken? That I am now ill because of it?”
“You being ill has nothing to do with it. You were probably catching this the days leading up to that little event you two had. Besides that, you know he’s going to come back to you, Madeleine,” she snapped.
I shook my head. “No, I do not know that.”
“Well, if you would let Rose or I write him to say you are sick—”
“No!” I shouted, sitting up and making my head spin. “You will not, or so help me God. I will not have him coming here in pity, because I am wasting away, as you say. I will not have him pity me for any reason!”
“Now, you are being ridiculous!” she said, standing.
“You already said that,” I said to her, my eyes feeling heavy. The dark circles that were most likely present under them felt heavy and noticeable. I lay back, swallowing hard. My head rested against the pillow softly, cradling it as my eyes drooped heavily. I turned back to the window.
She stood in silence, staring at me before she turned to the door. “I am going to get you that soup.”
“I will not eat it,” I said as she walked out of the room, not knowing if she heard me or not. I didn’t care.
Rose came in moments later and was able to convince me to eat some of the soup that was brought to me. It sat in my stomach for all of fifteen minutes before it came back up. The porcelain bowl coming in handy and seemingly easier on Rose and Colette, as all they needed to do was comfort me while I wept.
It was hours later, and I twitched painfully. The fever had returned and overcome me, and my body felt hot and uncomfortable. Colette sat beside me once again, dabbing a cool cloth over my face, which didn’t really help.
“We are calling for the physician.” She looked at her watch. “He should be here in about an hour.”
Sweat gathered on my forehead and made my nightgown stick to me uncomfortably.
What is going to take him so long? Is he in town, in Paris? Why is he so far away? Is he going to bleed me or use leeches?
“No leeches,” I said, my head throbbing. “No leeches, Colette.”
“If the doctor says that we need to, we are going to have to, Maddy,” she said, dipping the cloth into a bowl on her lap and wringing it out before dabbing it on my face and neck and down to my shoulders where my nightgown was pulled away.
“I don’t want them touching me,” I said, closing my eyes tightly. Perhaps if I wished that Lucien was there, he would be. He would suddenly appear and be sitting beside me. I would feel his lips on my forehead, his voice in my ears.
God, this fever is leaving me delusional.
I looked over at the clock. The black night caught my eye out the window, and the rain was still beating down.
Three in the morning? No wonder it will take the physician so long to get here.
“As the patient, you do not really have much of a say,” she said, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She was wearing a light lavender and violet gown, much like one of my own. Her face was still tired, though her eyes looked prominent in the candlelight around my room.
“I want to go home,” I said, my eyes filling with tears.
She frowned, her own eyes filling with tears. “You are breaking my heart. I wish I could take all this pain away from you.”
I closed my eyes tightly, the tears being squeezed out harshly. I kept my eyes closed, feeling Colette dab the cloth on me. Something had a pattern to it, suddenly making my body relax, and I fell into sleep. The physician’s voice woke me an hour later.
“It seems to be breaking, now. I think she will be fine. One of the midwives gave me this. It’s a drink that has ginger in it. It will help her stomach and keep the fever down, though she seems all right for now.”
“How should it be prepared?” Rose’s voice asked, the room blurring around me as I tried to open my eyes.
“Like a tea. Boil the water, and have her sip it slowly. Then, try to have her eat about an hour later. If she keeps it do
wn, then she is on the road to recovery.”
“Thank you,” Colette said, her voice fading out as I slipped into sleep once again.
My eyes fluttered open slowly, and my body shifted under the linens. It was daytime. The sun was shining, and birds were flying about outside my window. The horrid night before was now a distant nightmare, though I still felt terrible. I took a deep breath. A faint smell of leaves and vanilla on the air from my perfume and the opened window, though the breath burned down my throat, and my head spun as my eyes moved about the room.
Dare I sit up?
I looked to my left at Colette, who had her head in her arms on my bed, leaning over from the chair.
Brielle walked into the room, curtseying to me. “How are you feeling, Mademoiselle?”
“Terrible.” I shook my head gently, my voice coming out hoarsely.
Colette roused, looking around before she sat up, and wiping her face. “We should get you some more of that tea.”
I turned my head on the pillow toward her, “More of it? When did I have any of it?”
She licked her lips, blinking tiredly. “Last night. Well, early this morning. You were not very coherent. You had been sick, again. So, we followed the physician’s orders and gave you some of the tea, which smelled terrible. We had to fight you to drink it down, though I don’t blame you with an odor like that. Then, about fifteen minutes later, you were complaining that your stomach burned, but it subsided, and you fell asleep.”
I couldn’t remember…I didn’t really want to. I looked toward the secrétaire just as Rose walked into the room with a tray that held a teapot and a single cup.
“I thought that we might be in need of some more of this awful stuff,” she said as she put it down, smiling at me. “Feeling any better, today?”
“I want to finish that letter, Rose,” I said, pointing weakly to the secrétaire.
She looked at me, surprised, “Maddy darling—”
“You promised. You gave me your word. You said that if I still felt the same way today, you would finish it,” I said, licking my dry lips slowly.
Colette looked both of us over. “I may have just woken up, but what letter?”
Affaire de Coeur Page 43