A Perfect Weakness

by Jennifer A. Davids

  “I’ll send someone right away.” The feminine voice came from behind him.

  John turned. Miss Howard. Penelope. All he wanted to do was stand there and take her in, ask her how she was, and embrace her in a wordless apology for staying away. Instead, he motioned for his housekeeper and maids to follow her.

  “Thank you, Nurse Howard.” He did take note of how pale she looked. “I’m sure you know where Mrs. Lynch, Maud, and Janet will be most needed.”

  Did she sway slightly as she led the other women away? He caught Arthur’s eye. “When was the last time she slept? Or ate?”

  “Too long,” he replied, rising from his chair. “Mrs. Trull went back to Fairview to rest, and she tried to get her to go too, but she refused.”

  John tapped a fist against his leg. If she kept this up, she would collapse.

  Arthur spoke again.

  “There’s a cot in the matron’s office, sir. Now that Mrs. Lynch and the others are here, you may be able to convince her to take a break.”

  If he couldn’t convince her, he had every intention of forcing her. “See what instruments and supplies we have on hand, then have someone go for water.”

  John walked out into the hall just as Miss Howard was exiting the women’s ward with a bucket. What did she think she was doing? A footman from Hartsbury started past, and John ordered him to take the bucket from her. He then took her by the arm.

  “But I told Mrs. Lynch I would return,” she protested.

  “Then she’ll be waiting a few hours,” he replied. They came to the open door of the matron’s office, and he stabbed his finger at the cot. “Rest. Now.”

  Rather than come up with another argument, she raised a hand to her eyes and seemed to almost wilt. Her other hand gripped his forearm for support.

  “I am so very tired. I don’t even know how long we’ve been at this.” She swayed, and John swept her up in his arms. Why hadn’t he come sooner? Fool. He settled her into the cot. She grasped his hand as he rose. He squeezed her fingers.

  “Rest,” he whispered. Then, in spite of himself, he knelt and brushed a kiss across her forehead. Her eyes slipped shut, and he forced himself to move away.

  When he returned to the hall, he almost ran into Mrs. Lynch just outside the door. “I was in search of Miss Howard, my lord. She told us she would return with instructions.”

  He pulled the door shut behind him. “Nurse Howard is resting. I will be there as soon as I check on Mr. Wilcox.”

  “Very good, sir.” She walked back to the women’s ward. He had the uneasy feeling she had spied on him but brushed the idea away. There were too many other things to worry about. Arthur would need his help administering the treatment he’d found. He might have revolutionary ideas about the spread of sickness, but John was almost certain he was on to something.

  “Lord Turner.”

  Who shook his shoulder? It wasn’t George. He opened the windows to wake him. Never shook him. He lifted his head. Dr. Royston’s office? Of course, the epidemic. How could he have fallen asleep? He started to rise, but someone pushed him back down and placed a cup of tea in front of him. Miss Howard moved away from the desk to open a nearby window. It was dawn. Dawn? It had been dark when he came in here.

  “How long was I asleep?”

  “Several hours,” she replied. “I wanted to let you sleep longer, but more cases have come in.” She sat in the chair in front of the desk. “I don’t understand. Why are people still becoming ill?”

  “I don’t know.” It had been almost two days now since they started the venous saline treatment. The water injections had made a significant difference, and nearly every patient who had been in the hospital when he first arrived had been sent home to recover. But more had taken their place. “I’ve sent word that everyone should keep their windows open and their surroundings clean. It should be working.”

  “What about Arthur’s theory?”

  “How can the same water that’s curing people be making them ill?” He stood and walked over to the washstand and splashed his face. He shook the towel he used to dry off. “We’d all be ill if that were the case.”

  He slapped the cloth down and braced his hands against the stand. This was his fault. He’d come too late. If he had been here sooner, he and Arthur might have found the treatment days sooner. Fewer people would have been laid out behind the hospital if it weren’t for his inaction. And they might have been closer to finding the true cause behind this outbreak.

  “Your coming made a difference, my lord.”

  John’s heart almost parted from his body. How well she read him. How perfect she was for him. Over the past two days, they had worked seamlessly, side by side, she knowing what he needed before he asked for it. As she did now. Except he didn’t deserve it. “I should have come sooner.”

  “But you came. Thank you, Doctor.”

  “Don’t call me that.” He swung around. She stood too close to him. He walked around her toward the door.

  “That is what you are.” The jagged edge to her voice brought him to a halt. “You have more than proved that over these past days.”

  “I’ve only proved that I’m a fool.” He strode out the door and didn’t stop until he was outside.

  The sharp morning air bit at him. If only it would swallow him whole. He should send her home. Thanks to Mr. Worth, two nurses would arrive today. Parker and Mrs. Lynch were taking turns going back and forth between here and the Hall. Fairview was close enough for her to go with one of them.

  A rider came tearing up the road toward the hospital. He pulled up in a shower of dust and pebbles and jumped down to hand John a note. His jaw tightened as he read it.

  Isabella Abbott had cholera.

  CHAPTER 26

  John checked Miss Abbott’s pulse, then laid her arm back across her waist. She didn’t wake. He turned to her aunt and father who stood near the door of her room. “She’s all right for now. But she’ll need to have the water injections if she’s going to recover.”

  For once, Dorothea Baines seemed at a loss as she crept toward the bed. “I cannot imagine how she could have contracted it.” She looked at her brother. He said nothing; his face looked as if it might shatter at any moment. Mrs. Baines gathered herself and seemed to regain a semblance of her acerbic spirit. “What do you need from us, Lord Turner?”

  “Ideally, you should let me take her to the hospital where I can look after her myself.”

  “That will not be necessary,” she replied. “She will be treated here.”

  “Fine. I will send a nurse to sit with her and administer the injections. She will have everything that’s needed and instructions on how your cook is to prepare the water.”

  “We would also appreciate it if you would send her maid back to us,” she said. “I cannot imagine why she sent her over.”

  He’d argue if he had the energy. Miss Phillips had been worth her weight in gold. She wasn’t given to hysterics and had a soothing way with the patients. He’d even been tempted to teach her how to administer the injections. Maybe he should. She would be the best choice to care for Miss Abbott.

  Arthur burst into the room, followed by a footman. “Where did she last get a drink of water?”

  “I’m sorry, Sir James,” the footman said. “I tried to stop him. He charged in the instant I opened the door.”

  “We will discuss that later. Leave us.” Mrs. Baines directed her ire at Arthur. “What do you mean barging in here? What does water have to do with anything?”

  “Nothing,” John said. “Please excuse him. He should be at the hospital.” He grasped Arthur’s arm.

  Arthur shook him off. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I knew you would insist on coming, and I needed you to stay put.”

  Arthur stepped around him to the end of the bed and stared at Miss Abbott. He rubbed his forehead. “What has she had to drink? From where?”

  “I told you that can’t possibly be the cause,” John said
. “We’re successfully treating people with water.”

  He met John’s glare. “It’s not the same water.”

  “Water is water.”

  Mrs. Baines cleared her throat. “My niece takes her water from Hartsbury’s private pump. We all do. And as you can see, only she is ill.”

  John took hold of Arthur. “Come on. We’ll discuss this on the way back.”

  He jerked free. “I’m staying. I’m going to give her the treatment myself.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.” Fury sparked in Mrs. Baines’s eyes. “Leave here at once.”

  “Arthur.” Miss Abbott raised her hand an inch or so before it flopped back across her waist.

  Her aunt flew to her side. “You’re going to be fine, Isabella.”

  She tried to take her niece’s hand, but Isabella pulled free from her grasp. “Arthur …” Her eyes opened and closed. She took a few deep breaths.

  Arthur approached, but her aunt blocked his way.

  John ran a hand through his hair. What was Arthur thinking? If his outlandish theories didn’t finish his career, Mrs. Baines and Sir James would ruin it.

  Sir James stepped forward and pulled his sister out of the way. “Let him pass, Dorothea.”

  Arthur sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand in both of his. “Izzy.”

  She opened her eyes and smiled. “You’re here.”

  “Yes, I’ve come. When did you last take a drink of water? Where?”

  She tried to swallow. “The well … where we … leave our book. When … you sent word you … needed help … I was thirsty.”

  Arthur raised her hand and kissed it before leaning forward and placing another kiss on her forehead.

  Good thing Sir James still had a hold of his sister’s arm. Mrs. Baines looked ready to pounce like a lioness protecting her cub.

  Arthur urged Miss Abbott to rest and rose. He deliberately bumped into John’s shoulder as he strode from the room.

  “I apologize for his behavior,” John said to Sir James. “I’ll send Miss Abbott’s maid and everything that is needed over at once.”

  Before they could respond, he left the room and went after Arthur, but he was already riding away from Hartsbury as John stepped out of the house.

  Dr. Royston grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I have to admit, I’m impressed.”

  John leaned back in the chair next to the doctor’s bed. “I wish this treatment were more effective, but the mortality rate has decreased dramatically. If we could figure out what’s causing it, we might stand a chance.”

  “The instructions you’ve sent will work,” the doctor said. “We must give it time.”

  “It’s been two days now, and I have to wonder.”

  Dr. Royston grimaced. “Don’t tell me you’re even considering that ridiculous water theory?”

  “Of course not, but there has to be something we’ve overlooked.”

  “Hmpf. You need to get Arthur Wilcox under control. Where is he now?”

  “I understand he went back to the Hall.” John had gone to the hospital first to arrange for Miss Abbott’s care before coming next door to check on Dr. Royston. When he asked after Arthur, he was told the young man had just left, mentioning that he needed something at the Hall.

  “Perhaps he should remain there after this is all over,” the doctor said.

  “No. Whatever his ideas are, I’ve seen him work. He’ll make a fine doctor.”

  “If his ridiculous ideas don’t kill someone first.” The older man slid down in his bed a little. The fever had left him exhausted.

  John rose. “I’ll let you rest.”

  “Thank you. But bear in mind, I still have my reservations about that lad.”

  John returned to the hospital. He wanted to sink into the cot in the doctor’s office, but there was something else he needed to do first. Parker walked out from the men’s ward and took John’s coat as he shrugged out of it. By the looks of him, he hadn’t been there long. He still wore both vest and tie.

  “Has Mrs. Lynch left for the Hall yet?” John asked.

  “No, my lord, but she is just about to.”

  John told him to have her wait and went in search of Miss Howard, finding her alone in the kitchen, preparing a pot of water for the injections. He’d been gone for almost two hours. Had she rested as he’d told her to before he left? Probably not. As he stepped over to her, she raised her head.

  “How is Miss Abbott?” she asked as she stirred the water.

  “She’s young and strong. I think she’ll survive.” Judging by the way she and Arthur had looked at one another, she had a lot to live for.

  Miss Howard measured out the muriate of soda and added it. She glanced up at him. Her eyes were more gray than blue, but they still held trust. And they shouldn’t.

  “It’s time you went home,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I can’t. There’s too much to do.”

  “The nurses from Mr. Worth will be here later today. Mrs. Lynch is leaving for the Hall shortly. She’ll take you to Fairview.”

  She gave the water a final stir and pulled it off the stove to the worktable behind her. “I’ll let them know there is more saline cooling.” She turned and stumbled.

  John caught her by the shoulders. “You’re going home.”

  “Is that an order from my doctor?”

  He shook her and spoke through gritted teeth. “I told you not to call me that. I don’t deserve it.”

  “Yes. You do.” Her chin trembled, and she steadied it before continuing, “I’ve watched you and worked with you. You rode in exactly when you were needed and fought bravely. I’ve never worked with a better doctor.”

  “I’m no knight in shining armor, Penelope.”

  “You are to me.”

  No. No, he wouldn’t do this to her. He wouldn’t have her thinking as Maggie had—that he was something he wasn’t and could never be. “I am far from perfect.”

  “I know that.”

  “No. You don’t.” He released her, and she slouched against the worktable. “You have no idea what I’ve done.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You are not beyond redemption.” She stumbled over and reached out to him. “Please, please let me help you.”

  He batted her hands away. It was time she saw him as a monster. “No. I’ve had enough of your help. Is that all you can do? Nose around in other people’s business? Leave me alone. I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help.” He grasped her arm and all but shoved her to the door. “Go home. And don’t come back.”

  She felt nothing. A woman sat across from her. Mrs. Lynch? Yes. That’s who it was. The Hall’s housekeeper. Lord Turner’s housekeeper. Had he really told her not to come back? Worse, had he told her he didn’t need her help? She rested her head in her hands. It was too much.

  “Are you all right?” This couldn’t be Mrs. Lynch. The voice sounded too kind. But they were the only occupants of the coach.

  Penelope took a moment before answering. “I’m quite tired.”

  “Of course you are.” The housekeeper moved to sit beside her. “You’ve been working very hard. I’ve watched you. And I’m afraid I misjudged you in the past. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. I mean, that is quite all right.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m so sorry, I’m not really making any sense.”

  Her throat closed. Her world had gone all topsy-turvy. Mrs. Lynch was being kind and Lord Turner cruel. His harsh words echoed in her ears. Leave me alone. I don’t want your help. Had she been wrong about him all along? Was he really no different than Edmund Kern?

  “My dear, you’ve gone so pale. Are you sure you’re not ill?”

  Penelope closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

  Would she? After hearing such words from him, would she ever be fine again?

  The coach stopped in front of Fairview.

  “Penelope—may I call you that? Let me get out and help you down
.”

  “Yes, that might be wise.”

  The door to Fairview opened, and Fanny rushed out. “Are you all right, Miss Penny?”

  “She’s exhausted,” Mrs. Lynch replied. She supported Penelope with an arm around her shoulders. “Where is Mrs. Trull?”

  “She’s visitin’ for Miss Penny.”

  “Then you will have to help me get her to bed.”

  The stairs seemed to take forever to climb. Once in her room, it seemed Fanny was taking far too long loosening her stays. All she wanted was her bed and the oblivion of sleep. Perhaps she was dreaming. She had to be dreaming.

  She pulled away from her maid’s hands and stumbled to her bed, nearly upsetting her bedside table.

  “Oh, but Miss Penny, I’ve not finished.” Fanny’s words floated somewhere above her head as did Mrs. Lynch’s reply.

  “Leave that and cover her up. I’ll tidy her bedside table.”

  Penelope mumbled her thanks before blackness took her.

  CHAPTER 27

  John slumped back in the chair behind Dr. Royston’s desk. Two hours. In that time, two more had died, people were still getting sick, and Penelope Howard had gone home. He still tasted the acid from the words he had spoken to her. But it had to be done. For both their sakes. As soon as Dr. Royston was up and about, he would leave the hospital and then Woodley.

  In the meantime, he needed help. He’d sent George to fetch Arthur. They should be arriving soon. Aside from Arthur’s help, John needed to speak with him. Arthur was putting his future in jeopardy by continuing to cling to his water-borne disease theory. He leaned his head back. Just a few minutes’ sleep.

  George burst through the door. “My lord, you need to come, right now!”

  “What is it?” John grabbed his coat and followed his valet.

  “It’s Arthur.” They rushed through the front hall and out the door. “He’s about to do something monumentally stupid.”

  A horse was ready and waiting for each of them.

  “What?” John asked as they mounted.