‘Mother—’
‘No, Philippa, I won’t be persuaded on this. It’s dangerous. The whole family could be infected for all we know. I’ll not let you be at risk.’
Pippa stiffened and she took a deep breath. ‘I need to see Gil.’
‘Write a note, as I am doing.’
Gently, she kissed her mother’s soft cheek and swept out of the room. ‘A note won’t do.’
Esther followed her onto the verandah and down the steps, arguing all the way, but Pippa ignored her and continued making for the stables.
‘Pippa?’ Millie called as she hurried from her cottage. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Yes, Gil is very sick and I must go to him.’ Pippa kissed her cheek, too, as though in farewell. She knew the risk she was taking; she could catch the disease and never return to her valley, but she couldn’t think of that now.
‘Oh, Millie.’ Esther puffed, seizing her arm. ‘Stop her, oh, please God, stop her.’
Alarm filtered across Millie’s face. ‘Why?’
‘Scarlet fever!’ Esther cried. ‘She’s going to a house of scarlet fever!’
‘Nothing will happen to me, Mother. Do not worry.’ Pippa lifted her skirts and crossed the footbridge. ‘Take care of her for me, Millie. I may be gone for the night.’ Not wanting to hear their protests, she rushed to the stable block and ducked inside. Unable to stand idle as Peter saddled Honey, Pippa tried to help, but in her eagerness to get to Sutton Forrest, she was all fingers and thumbs. With great patience, Peter finished the task and led Honey outside.
As Pippa mounted, Millie came to her side. ‘This is madness, Pippa. We can’t risk losing you.’
‘I cannot help that, not this time.’
‘It is not your place to go, not now. He’s to be married to another, isn’t he?’
Pippa braced against the pain that knifed her. ‘He’s my friend.’
‘What good will it achieve to endanger yourself? What of the stud, your family?’
Gripping the reins, she looked down on her dearest friend. ‘Without Gil …’ She couldn’t finish the sentence, for a lump the size of a rock seemed lodged in her throat.
Despite her larger size, Millie swept forward and reached up to clutch at Pippa’s hands. ‘You love him, then?’
‘Yes …’ Pippa felt the urge to slump into the saddle and sob, but she couldn’t weaken, not now. Gil needed her, just like she had needed him on so many occasions.
‘For both your sakes, I hope he recovers, but you mustn’t set yourself up for more hurt.’
‘It’s too late for that.’
‘I want you to be happy. To find a good man to care for as I have found in Robson, but Gil is promised to another.’
‘Tell that to my heart, Millie,’ she snapped.
‘I’m sorry.’ Millie stepped back, breaking their contact. ‘God speed.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Pippa halted Honey at the entrance to the drive. Beyond the trees, she glimpsed carriages in front of the Ashfords’ grand house. A trickle of fear shivered over her skin. She didn’t want to go further and perhaps learn of soul-destroying news.
‘Can I help ye, Miss Noble?’
Pippa jumped at the voice and twisted around to stare at the familiar old gardener, who appeared from behind a tree.
He bowed and took off his hat, revealing a head of wispy grey hair. ‘I didn’t mean to startle ye, miss.’
Pippa licked her dry lips, summoning her courage. ‘What is the news of Mr Gil?’
His expression softened, his eyes downcast. ‘Not good, miss, not good at all.’
‘He lives?’
‘By a slender thread, I’m told.’ He glanced at the house. ‘They’d be happy to see a new face, miss, if you’re going in. Miss Augusta is in a fearful torment as the master and mistress insist she go away until the danger is over, but she won’t. We heard her yelling through the windows.’
Pippa nodded once and nudged Honey forward. What was she doing talking to the gardener when Gil and Augusta needed her? A groom near the carriage took Honey’s bridle when Pippa dismounted. As she shook out her skirts, the front door was flung open and Augusta dashed down the steps and into Pippa’s arms.
‘Oh, you came.’ Augusta sobbed as though her heart would break. ‘I knew you would.’
‘I only just heard. I’m so sorry.’ Pippa held her, blinking back tears.
‘I should have written. I’ve been mean and unforgiving over what happened in Melbourne.’ Augusta sobbed harder.
‘Shush, now. I was at fault, not you.’
‘We’re still friends?’
‘Absolutely. Forever.’ Pippa kissed her cheek. ‘Shall we go inside?’
Augusta sniffled and shook her head. ‘No, it’s awful in there. Can we not walk through the gardens?’ She took Pippa’s arm and drew her away from the house.
Lifting her skirts, Pippa strolled across the lawn, though she couldn’t help glancing at the bedroom windows above her, wanting to go inside and be with Gil. ‘How is he?’
‘Weak. So very weak.’ Augusta pressed a damp handkerchief to her eyes.
‘But he will survive?’ Not trusting her shaky legs, Pippa sat on a white iron bench positioned by the rose bed.
Augusta joined her. ‘We don’t know. The doctor says he might, but who can tell?’
‘How did he catch it?’
‘We were in Sydney.’
‘Yes, I know—’
‘What you don’t know of is Gil’s behaviour,’ Augusta sneered. ‘It’s all your fault, really.’
Affronted, Pippa reared back. ‘How is it so?’
Glancing away, Augusta sniffed. ‘If you hadn’t rejected Gil, none of this would have happened.’
Smarting at the attack, Pippa stood. ‘I fail to see how my refusal gave Gil scarlet fever!’
‘Oh, forgive me. I’m being hateful again. I’m just so worried he’ll die.’ Screwing her handkerchief into a sodden ball, Augusta sighed. ‘Of course you aren’t responsible for his actions.’
‘Tell me what happened.’
‘He became reckless in Sydney. To get you out of his mind, he frequented places he normally would never go near. He hardly came home, and when he did he was drunk.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Father found him at an opium den, in brothels, and all the worst areas of town. That’s how he contracted it.’
Tortured by the suffering she’d put Gil through, Pippa stared at her feet. ‘I never imagined he felt so strongly.’
‘Yes, you did. You chose to ignore it.’
Pippa winced, for it was true. ‘What about this woman he met?’
‘Camille.’
‘Surely he couldn’t have been too wounded by my rejection if he so quickly proposed to her?’
‘It was an impulsive act on a night when Gil had drunk too much.’ Augusta gave a mocking laugh. ‘She meant nothing to him and she knew it. I believe she said yes to marriage only to make another man jealous. Gil believed it, too, and it made him worse. He felt no woman wanted him.’
Pippa took Augusta’s hand. ‘What occurred then?’
‘Last week Camille called it off. I, for one, am thankful. He didn’t love her. I don’t think he even liked her. Gil would have made a terrible mistake marrying her.’
Then he is free … Pippa closed her eyes in relief.
Augusta smoothed her pink skirts flat, her hand trembling. ‘He’s so full of hate and disillusionment. He thinks his life is over, that there is nothing to live for, that no one will love him.’ Tears welled in her eyes again and spilt down her cheeks. ‘Pippa, whether you love him or not, you must help him find the strength to want to live! Promise you’ll help us. If you value our friendship, say you will.’
A sob caught in Pippa’s throat. ‘I … I do love him, not as a brother as I thought, but as a man. He means everything to me.’
Augusta sprang to her feet, her eyes wide and hopeful. ‘Then you must tell him at once!’ Grabbing Pippa’s hand,
she dragged her across the lawn to the house.
Stumbling to a stop at the front steps, Pippa tugged her hand free as the door opened.
Tabitha stood in the hall, waiting. Her burgundy dress bleached the colour from her face. She came forward and clasped Pippa to her. ‘Thank you for coming.’
Pushing past them, Augusta rushed for the stairs. ‘We must let Pippa go to him—’
‘Quiet, girl!’ Tabitha demanded. ‘Where is your sense of decency?’
Pippa touched Tabitha’s arm. ‘How is he?’
‘Alive, but for how long is anyone’s guess.’ Tabitha blinked back tears from eyes red and swollen from weeping. ‘Edgar and the doctor are with him now.’
Pippa nodded, amazed at how old and small the woman looked since she last saw her before travelling to the goldfields. ‘Gil is strong. He will pull through.’
‘We all thought the same at first, but he’s so frail now.’ The older woman’s bottom lip trembled. ‘Will you see him, Pippa?’ Tabitha squeezed her hand. ‘I know it is a risk, a terrible risk, but perhaps if you talk to him …’
‘That’s what I was saying!’ Augusta darted back to her mother’s side, her face aglow. ‘Pippa just confessed to being in love with Gil. Isn’t that splendid? Now he will get better again.’
Tabitha looked to Pippa. ‘Is that true?’
‘Yes, Mrs Ashford, it is.’
‘Then let us pray it isn’t too late.’
Above them a door opened and the doctor and Edgar descended the staircase. Pippa blinked at the elderly man Edgar had become. His smile for her was warm, yet tinged with sadness, and Pippa’s heart somersaulted against her ribs.
Tabitha swayed, but Edgar steadied her. ‘He’s not gone, dear. He still clings to life.’
The doctor rubbed his forehead in weariness. ‘There’s a good chance he’s over the worst of it. His vomiting has stopped in the last hour. I believe he’s at day four or five of the disease, as his tongue is coated in a thick white substance, but it should start to peel in the next day or two.’
‘What can we do?’ Augusta asked.
‘Keep him cool, the fever is still on him. The rash will fade eventually. Try to get some water past his lips, but be careful; his tongue is swollen, so he’ll have difficulty swallowing.’
Weeping into a handkerchief, Tabitha allowed Augusta to guide her into the drawing room while the doctor conversed with Edgar at the front door.
Pippa glanced at the staircase, then back at the two men. Gathering her skirts, she dashed upstairs. She had to open three doors before finding the right one. On the threshold, she paused, uncertain.
The drawn curtains made the room dark, shadowy. Stale air tortured her nose. She jumped in surprise when a maid rose from a chair on the far side of the bed.
On trembling legs, Pippa stepped closer, frightened by what she might see.
‘He’s resting for the moment, miss.’ The maid bobbed her head.
Slowly Pippa turned to the man who’d come to mean so much to her. She frowned and blinked hard. There had to be some mistake. The wasted man, whose flesh had been stripped from his bones, couldn’t be the handsome, laughing Gil Ashford.
For an instant she wanted to smile and call everyone in to tell them it was all right, they’d been wrong, that it wasn’t Gil at all. Then reality crowded in on her, denying her the falsehood she so badly wanted to believe. It was very much her beloved Gil.
She crammed her knuckles into her mouth, smothering the groan of agony that erupted. Her knees gave out and she crumbled onto the floor beside his bed.
‘Oh, miss!’ The maid rushed around to her, but Pippa waved her away.
‘I … I wish to be alone with him.’
The maid bobbed a curtsy. ‘I’ll be outside the door if you need me.’
Pippa, on her knees, stared at Gil’s flushed face. Where his strained skin wasn’t red, it was a dirty yellow colour. Sweat beaded his forehead and upper lip. On the small table next to the bed were a water bowl and towels. Pippa dampened a cloth and dabbed Gil’s face. Heat radiated from him.
‘See what happens when left to your own devices, Ashford?’ She smiled, her tender love bruising her heart. ‘Open your eyes, Gil. It’s Pippa. I’m home again.’
He moved his head and, taking courage from that, she slipped her fingers under his large hand and brought it to her cheek. ‘You have to get well. Do you hear me?’
He remained still. Only his chest rose and fell with shallow breathing. Pippa stepped around the bed and sat in the chair the maid had used. Taking Gil’s other hand, she kissed it and held it in both of hers. She settled into the chair, prepared to sit beside him for as long as it took.
The door opened and Tabitha entered, her gaze darting to her son’s face and then to Pippa. ‘He hasn’t woken?’
‘No.’
‘Will you stay a while? I can send up a tray and have a room prepared for you should you wish it.’
‘I’ll stay, yes. Thank you.’ Pippa glanced at Gil; she’d stay by him for the rest of her life if she could.
‘Do whatever you can to keep him alive, Pippa, for I cannot lose my son.’
‘I cannot lose him, either.’
‘I hope you mean it.’ Tabitha straightened. ‘He’s been to hell and back because of what he feels for you. I’ll not let you hurt him again.’
Gently stroking Gil’s hot cheek, Pippa swallowed. ‘As soon as he is well, we’ll be married. I promise you.’
‘You will?’ Tabitha’s expression showed doubt. ‘I’d always hoped so, but you didn’t seem keen on the idea of marriage. He’s been mad for you for so long. We’ve watched Gil suffer for the last couple of years, let me tell you.’
‘I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know what I wanted until I thought it was too late.’
‘Yes, a common story for us all at one time or another.’ Bending over, Tabitha kissed his brow and then left the room.
On the mantle above the small fireplace, a gold clock ticked as if to remind her of the hours and minutes she’d been away from Gil. Well, she’d make it up to him, if he’d let her.
Pippa woke and moved her shoulders. Darts of pain shot down her arms and she muttered a groan. She’d fallen asleep by the bed, her arms folded under her head. Flexing her neck and blinking to focus, she gazed at Gil before leaning forward to touch his flushed face. He tossed his head, frowning in his sleep. His legs twitched and his hand rose off the bedcovers only to fall again with a thump.
Making soothing sounds, she settled him and dripped water onto his dry lips. Gil’s eyelids flickered and his throat convulsed before he calmed once more.
With a helpless sigh, she looked around the room, which had darkened while she slept. A gap in the curtains showed that dusk was making way for night. She lit the lamp by the bed, spilling a soft golden glow across the room. Restless, she walked to the tallboy standing against the far wall. On top of it lay Gil’s hairbrush, razor, and other personal items. A small drawing lay there as well. It was a sketch she’d done of Gil and Augusta as they sat around a picnic last spring. She couldn’t remember giving it to Gil, but she must have.
‘I … stole … it.’
Gil’s weak words filtered through her daydreaming. Pippa spun and rushed to sit by the bed, grasping his warm hand in hers. ‘You’re awake.’
He licked his parched, cracked lips. ‘So … it seems. Wish … I hadn’t.’
Anger at his negativity blotted at her happiness. ‘Don’t talk such foolishness. I won’t have it.’
‘Must … always have your own … way …’ he croaked.
His words reminded her of their last meeting at the inn in Ballarat. Then, as now, he’d flung her selfishness in her face. He hadn’t forgiven her, and the thought chilled her to her marrow.
Frowning, clearly uncomfortable, Gil closed his eyes on a sigh. ‘Drink?’
‘Yes, of course.’ After pouring a glass of water from the jug, she lifted his head to help him sip. The endeavour wasn�
�t very successful, but Gil seemed satisfied despite his wet nightshirt. Pippa wiped away the spilt water and adjusted his pillows. ‘Rest now. Sleep. I’ll tell your parents.’
‘Too hot.’
‘It’s the fever.’ She smoothed the damp hair on his forehead. ‘Sleep, Gil.’
‘Why … you here?’ His green eyes narrowed. ‘Deathbed … farewell?’
Before she could think of a suitable answer, exhaustion overtook him.
Watching him sleep, she stemmed the tears his words caused. She’d imagined their reunion would be affectionate, tender, romantic. Instead he was angry. No, not angry. He was uncaring. Whether he lived or died was of no concern to him, and she had done that. She had made him feel he had nothing to live for. Shame and guilt filled her. While she’d been looking for ways to earn more money, Gil had been sending himself to an early grave. And he’d nearly succeeded.
Resuming her seat, Pippa sighed with the weight of responsibility that sat on her chest, crushing her breath. Had she found her love for him too late? What if he no longer wanted her?
Hours passed with visits from the family and the doctor. The little gold timepiece struck midnight, then one o’clock. Pippa dozed in the chair, but never for more than twenty minutes. Her body decided to keep its own time clock and she’d jolt awake at intervals to check him, thinking she’d slept for hours instead of minutes.
When a rooster crowed, stirring her from another doze, Pippa stretched and smothered a yawn. Grey light seeped into the room. In shock, she realised Gil watched her. His gaze lingered on her face.
Reaching over, she felt his brow. It was warm, but not unbearably hot as before. ‘Good morning.’
‘I … I thought I’d dreamt you …’
She smiled, love squeezing her heart. ‘You didn’t. How do you feel?’ She poured another glass of water for him and helped him up to sip it.
‘Better.’
‘Good.’
An awkward silence descended and Pippa wasn’t certain what to say or do next. Her stomach twisted into knots. Suddenly, she couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she stood and tugged the flat sheets straighter.
Gil lifted his hand and dropped it again. ‘Looks like I couldn’t … even die properly.’
Where Rainbows End Page 27