by Anne Herries
‘Do you think we can turn him?’ Jenny asked. ‘Or will it disturb his wound?’
‘I think perhaps we ought not to try,’ Mary advised. ‘If we cover the top half of him now, I could turn back the sheet from the bottom so that we can bathe his legs—that should cool him sufficiently, I would think.’
‘Yes, perhaps you are right,’ Jenny said. She drew the covers up over his chest, placing his hands inside the covers and keeping her back turned as Mary arranged the covers to protect Adam’s privacy once more. Then they bathed and dried his feet and legs before replacing the sheet and one light blanket. Jenny put a hand to his brow and discovered that it was cooler and dry. ‘I think that has helped him...’
The door opened and Paul entered. He approached the bed, a haunted expression in his eyes as he gazed down at his cousin.
‘How is he now?’
‘A little cooler,’ Jenny said. ‘Once we have the fever mixture he should soon start to feel easier. Hallam is going to take the receipt to the apothecary and bring back the ingredients for me to make up.’
‘Give it to me and I will fetch it,’ Paul said. ‘I feel so helpless. You were very good to come, Miss Hastings, since we hardly know you.’
‘I have felt a part of your family since that day,’ Jenny said and saw the pain in his eyes. ‘I am sincerely glad that Fontleroy has been taken into custody. At least now you may start to put the past behind you, sir.’
‘Would that I could...’ Paul’s face worked with his emotion. ‘I thought it would suffice when that devil was caught, but I find it does not. I wish I could go back somehow—stop what happened.’
‘We cannot turn the clock back, sir,’ Jenny said and reached out to touch his hand. To her horror, he started to weep bitterly. Hardly knowing why she did it, she reached out and drew his head down to her shoulder, patting his back. ‘I am so very sorry, Mr Ravenscar...so very sorry. I fear there is nothing I can say to comfort you.’
Paul drew back, stared at her and then, startling Jenny, he suddenly kissed her. She allowed it for a moment, then placed her hands against his shoulders, pushing him away.
‘No, sir. You must not...’
Paul jerked away and looked at her shamefacedly. ‘Forgive me. You were kind and I...’ He turned and went hurriedly from the room.
‘The gentleman...’ Mary said, making Jenny turn to look at her.
‘He was in distress, please forget what you saw. It meant nothing.’
‘I know that, miss.’ Mary pointed towards the bed. Turning, Jenny saw Adam looking at her, his eyes wide open and angry. ‘The gentleman saw...’
‘Adam...you are awake?’ Jenny went to him at once. ‘Has the fever broken?’
‘What are you doing here—and why were you kissing Paul?’ he asked hoarsely. ‘Water...I need water...’
‘Here you are, sir.’ Mary had guessed his need and was there at his side. She assisted him to swallow a little from the glass. He thanked her, lay back against the pillows and immediately closed his eyes.
‘Adam?’ Jenny placed a hand on his brow. He felt cooler. ‘Adam, are you conscious? You must know that Paul kissed me—he was in distress. It meant nothing to either of us.’
‘Go away...’ he muttered. ‘You shouldn’t...I don’t need you here...’
‘You asked for me...Adam.... You can’t think I wanted Paul to kiss me?’
There was no answer. Adam was sleeping deeply, as a little snore bore witness a few moments later. She frowned and drew back as Hallam entered the room once more.
‘I just saw Paul leaving in some distress. Adam isn’t worse, is he?’
‘He is a little better, I think. For a moment he was conscious, but now he is sleeping. His fever has broken for the moment, but we cannot be certain it will not come back. In my experience they often wane and then return with more vigour than before. You should still fetch the ingredients for that mixture, I think.’
‘Will you stay for a while until I return?’
‘Of course. His bandages need changing twice a day...’
‘I can do that,’ Hallam said. ‘I asked you to come because he called your name so desperately, but I did not expect you to nurse him, Miss Jenny. The landlord knows of a reliable woman and he has sent for her. If you tell her what is needed, I am sure she will be quite capable. It would not be fitting for you to stay here and nurse him—even if Mary stayed with you.’
‘Are you certain you can manage?’
‘We ought to do as Captain Ravenscar says,’ Mary put in. ‘For your sake, Miss Jenny.’
‘Yes, I dare say you are both right,’ Jenny said. She took a little silver-cased notebook from her purse and used the tiny pencil that was attached to it. Writing down the ingredients she needed for her mixture, she gave it to Hallam. ‘I shall sit here with him until you return—and then you may send us home in your chaise, sir.’
‘Of course. I am grateful that you came. If Adam saw you when he woke, he will know that you were here.’
‘He told me to go home,’ she admitted. ‘He would not think it suitable if I stayed to nurse him.’
‘I shall be as quick as possible,’ Hallam said, took her receipt and left the room.
‘Mary, will you empty the water we used and bring fresh, please?’ Jenny instructed. ‘Also ask the landlord for a large jug and some wine and sugar. The mixture I make needs both or it is foul to drink.’
‘But, miss...’ Mary hesitated, but Jenny’s look told her that she must obey and she went off, though reluctantly.
Jenny stood by Adam and looked down at him. He was certainly cooler for the moment and he looked peaceful. She hesitated, then bent down to kiss his lips.
‘Please get better, Adam,’ she said softly. ‘I love you so very much. I do not think I could bear it if—’ She caught back a sob, because it was ridiculous of her to cry when he seemed to be recovering. ‘You must know that I meant only to comfort Paul. It is you I love...you I care for, my dearest one.’
Adam slept on, not hearing her. She wiped the tears from her face, feeling foolish. If only he would wake up and talk to her for a moment, but she must not wake him for he needed his rest.
Would he recall what he’d seen when he woke? She thought it would possibly seem like a part of his fever to him.
* * *
Mary returned quickly and out of breath. She had clearly hurried, fearing to leave her mistress’s protégée alone in a bedroom with a gentleman—even if that gentleman was fast asleep. Jenny hid her smile and busied herself by setting out what she had.
* * *
Hallam returned within a short time, during which Adam did not stir. He had brought all the ingredients that Jenny needed, as well as a mixture the apothecary had recommended himself. Jenny made up her own and poured a small measure, which she handed to Hallam.
‘This is the amount he should take three times a day. If you or the nurse give it to him, make sure you do not exceed the dose. It is not dangerous, but it might make him sick if he had too much—and I would not use what the apothecary sent unless you trust his remedy more than mine?’
‘I trust you implicitly,’ Hallam said, and poured the other mixture into the slop basin in the washstand cupboard. ‘And now I shall arrange for my driver to take you home, ladies.’
Jenny glanced at Adam regretfully as she followed him from the room. She did not look back as she closed the door behind her.
* * *
Adam opened his eyes as the door shut. He pushed himself up against the pillows gingerly, feeling the pain in his shoulder start up. Jenny had left the glass beside him on the chest. He picked it up with his right hand, thanking his lucky stars that it was his left shoulder that had taken Fontleroy’s ball. Sipping the mixture tentatively, he discovered it tasted reasonable, though there was an underlying bitt
erness. He swallowed it all in one go and then pulled a face as he caught the aftertaste that the wine and sugar had masked.
‘Trying to poison me, Jenny?’ he murmured and smiled oddly.
His mind was a little hazy, but he was vaguely aware of two female voices in the room. He thought that they might have bathed him and it was after that that he began to feel a little easier. He’d woken for a moment and seen Paul in a woman’s arms. He’d been kissing her—then she’d turned and he knew she was Jenny.
Why was she kissing Paul? He recalled telling her she should go home and asking for water...then he’d fallen into a deep sleep. He thought he might have dreamed for a while, because he’d heard a woman’s voice telling him that she loved him.
Was it Jenny’s voice? Had she truly been here?
Adam felt bewildered. His shoulder hurt like the very devil and he felt weak, which he knew from experience was par for the course after losing a deal of blood. He would come about in a few days—but what had happened in this room a short time ago?
Had Jenny truly told him she loved him? Had she kissed him on the lips—or was that a part of the whole mad dream? She could not have been kissing Paul so he must have dreamed it all. Had she been here in the room at all?
Yet as he lay back again and closed his eyes he thought he could smell her perfume—and someone had prepared that mixture for him. Someone had told Hallam that he should take it three times a day...which there was no way he would if he had a choice. The taste was awful and Adam would be better in a day or so...
* * *
Adam was not better immediately. Later that evening, when Hallam and the nurse returned to change his bandage, they discovered that his fever had returned. He was talking wildly and thrashing his arms and legs and Hallam had to hold him down while the nurse changed the bandage. He then poured the required dosage and forced it between Adam’s lips. Adam fought and muttered, but most of it went down as Hallam intended.
‘Damn you...foul...’ Adam muttered but slumped back against the pillows almost at once.
In a few moments he was snoring. Hallam decided to follow Jenny’s instructions and instructed the nurse to fetch cool water. Between them they bathed him and saw a distinct improvement.
‘He should rest for a while now, sir,’ the nurse said. ‘If you would like me to stay for a few hours, you should get some sleep yourself.’
‘I shall return in three hours so that you can get off to your other patients,’ Hallam said. ‘It was good of you to come, ma’am.’
‘I always try to help Dr Harnwell’s patients. He don’t trust many, sir, though I says it myself. I do my best for folk and there’s some as take your money and do nothing.’
Hallam thanked her again and left her to care for Adam. He decided to write a note and deliver it to Miss Jenny. She was sure to be anxious for news.
Chapter Twelve
‘Who is your letter from?’ Lady Dawlish asked when Jenny opened it. They had been out to dinner and were just returned after a pleasant evening that had been a little overshadowed by Jenny’s unspoken fear for Captain Miller.
‘It is from Major Ravenscar,’ Jenny said. ‘He says that Captain Miller’s fever returned, but the mixture I left for him seems to have eased him again. He is sleeping peacefully once more.’
Thank God! Oh, thank God. She could not have borne it had he gone into a decline and died. She had been keeping herself on a tight rein and now she almost collapsed with relief.
‘How worrying,’ Lady Dawlish said. ‘I had an uncle who died of a gunshot wound sustained in a duel. It was the fever that killed him, too.’
‘Please do not,’ Jenny said in a faint voice. ‘I pray that Captain Miller will not succumb to his fever. Do you think I should go round to his lodgings again, ma’am?’
‘He has a nurse and Hallam is quite capable,’ Lady Dawlish said. ‘You know that I would not forbid you for the world, dearest—but I think I must advise against it.’
‘I know you are right,’ Jenny said, her throat tight with suppressed emotion. How could she stay away when Adam needed her? And yet she must. She could not visit an unmarried gentleman in his bedroom without incurring censure. The first time had been risk enough, but to go again now when he had an efficient nurse would be thought highly improper in her. ‘There is sufficient of the mixture to last three days. I shall ask if more is required then.’
‘Then I am certain he is as comfortable as possible and there is nothing more you could contribute to his welfare.’
‘Of course you are right, ma’am,’ Jenny agreed, though her heart rebelled.
She kissed Lady Dawlish goodnight and then went up the stairs to the landing, where she met Lucy. She said goodnight to her friend, who seemed a little odd, quite pale and distressed, then went into her bedroom. She sat down on the bed, feeling close to tears. If only she could be there with Adam—if only she were able to nurse him herself, but she had already risked her reputation by visiting him once. Besides, Adam would not want her at his bedside. If she insisted on visiting him when he had his cousins and a nurse to care for him, she would lay herself open to gossip—she might compromise herself, and that would be unfair to Adam.
As a gentleman he might feel compelled to ask her to marry him and that would be most uncomfortable. Much as she longed to be his wife, she did not want it to happen that way.
Brushing a hand across her eyes, she tried to think of other things. A small posy of flowers had been delivered that afternoon, and a note of apology. It had not been signed, but she knew it had come from Paul.
Lucy had been curious, smelling the sweet roses and glancing at the letter, as if she wished to know what was in it.
‘Who is your admirer?’ she asked. ‘Has he begged you to flee to Gretna with him?’
Her tone was teasing, but Jenny knew she was very curious about the posy. Unable to explain what had had happened with Paul in Adam’s sickroom, Jenny shook her head and pretended not to know who they had come from.
She had screwed up the note and placed it amongst the kindling in the fire grate in her room, where it would be burned the next time a fire was lit. Jenny had forgot it while they were out for the evening, but when she returned to her room she thought it best to set it to the candle and burn it. However, when she bent to retrieve the note, she could not find it at first—then discovered it had been torn into several pieces.
Now how had that happened? Had one of the maids seen it and read it before tearing it into shreds?
She recalled Paul’s words, which had been ambiguous to say the least. He’d thanked her for her kindness, blamed himself for his careless action in kissing her and begged her to forgive him. He had been overcome by his emotions and forgot himself and hoped he had not distressed her too much.
Jenny suddenly felt cold all over. Had Lucy entered her room and read the note—had she known it had come from Paul, even though it was unsigned? If she had, it would explain the way she had stared at Jenny so oddly—almost as if she disliked her.
Jenny felt most uncomfortable. She had not told Lucy about the incident because she felt it embarrassing to Paul. He had wept in her arms and the kiss had been the kiss of a man in terrible distress. All he’d wanted from her was comfort—but to someone who had not been there to witness it, it might seem so much more.
If Lucy had read that note and recognised Paul’s handwriting, she might think Jenny had encouraged him to kiss her. How could she explain? If she’d told Lucy when the flowers arrived it would have been easier, but the mere fact that she’d kept it secret and then tried to dispose of the note seemed damning.
Jenny was almost certain that her friend was in love with Paul. Lucy had not said so in as many words, but Jenny had seen something in Lucy’s eyes that told her she was not indifferent to him. If she’d read the note, she would naturally feel
that Jenny had betrayed her.
Ought she to go to Lucy’s room and try to explain? She hesitated for a moment, because it was not something she wished to do, but her concern for her friend made her leave her room and go along the hallway. She reached Lucy’s room, which was slightly ajar. She hesitated, hearing Lady Dawlish’s voice and the sound of Lucy’s weeping.
‘What is the matter, dearest?’ Lady Dawlish was asking. ‘You cannot be crying for nothing.’
‘I am,’ Lucy said thickly through her tears. ‘It is nothing, Mama—and I shall not tell you. Please go away and leave me alone...’
Jenny turned away with a heavy heart. She could not intrude at such a moment. Lucy obviously thought the worst. She would have to find a way of telling her the truth soon, because she did not want a foolish incident that meant nothing to her to come between them.
* * *
Adam opened his eyes and looked at his cousin. Hallam had yet another glass of some foul mixture in his hand, but he pushed his hand away and inched his way into a sitting position against the pillows.
‘Enough, no more, Hal,’ he said. ‘Unless you want to kill me off?’
‘Miss Jenny’s mixture has served you well,’ Hallam said and grinned at him. ‘She warned me it was foul stuff when she made the second batch for me, but she added a little honey this time to try to make it more palatable.’
‘Well, she did not succeed,’ Adam said. ‘I feel as if I have been run over by a coach and horses—how long have I been stuck in this damned bed?’
‘Four days,’ Hal told him. ‘We thought the fever had gone twice, but it came back again. It’s no wonder you feel weak—you’ve been ill, Cousin.’