CHAPTER 14
Sterling looked over his shoulder when the bedroom door opened.
“Are you still here?” the Marquess of Mattenden asked as he entered the room. He walked to the bed and looked down on his sister. “How is she?”
Sterling lowered his gaze from Amanda’s brother and looked to where Amanda lay.
The siblings’ coloring was almost identical: blond hair, azure blue eyes, and similar facial features. Only Lord Mattenden’s were more rugged than Amanda’s. Hers were nearly perfect, where her brother would be called handsome—or would have been before the nasty scar that would forever mar his features.
“She hasn’t awakened yet,” Sterling answered, letting his gaze return to where Amanda lay.
Mattenden walked to the other side of the bed and pulled up a chair. After he sat, he took his sister’s hand in his and held it. “She’s strong,” he whispered. “She’ll survive. She has to. I’m not sure I could live with myself if she didn’t.”
Sterling looked into Amanda’s brother’s face. His features were lined with regret.
“It’s my fault she was shot,” Mattenden said in words that were riddled with remorse. “All of this is my fault.”
“She tried to help you because she loves you,” Sterling said.
“I know,” Mattenden answered. “And I don’t know why. I’ve failed at being a brother to her. I’ve failed to take care of her.”
A wetness filled Mattenden’s eyes. He released his sister’s hand and rose. “What did the doctor say?” he asked as he looked out the window onto the street below.
“He could not give me an answer one way or the other. He said what you said. She’s young. She’s healthy. Those are in her favor. And as long as she doesn’t develop a fever, there is a chance she will survive.”
“But if she develops a fever?”
“She more than likely will not survive it. The bullet was deeply imbedded and he had to dig to remove it. Even though he worked as carefully as he could, there’s always a chance that infection could set in and she will develop a fever.”
Mattenden lowered his head as if the weight of the burden he carried was too heavy to support it. “She’s always been special to me. The two of us grew up united to thwart our three sisters. They were older by several years, and considered us nuisances. I, at least, was a male and the Mattenden heir, so held a special place in our parents’ eyes. Amanda was considered by our mother as another unsuccessful attempt in securing the succession. Another unwanted pregnancy that ended in failure. I don’t think Amanda ever looked at it that way, but it was obvious to the rest of us. Only Father made any effort to make her feel loved, and show her affection. Mother was too occupied making good matches for our older sisters to be bothered with Amanda.”
Mattenden looked over his shoulder to where Sterling sat. “Do you care for her?”
When Sterling didn’t answer immediately, Mattenden smiled and focused again on the scene beyond the window.
“Of course, you do,” he said. “One only has to see the way you look at her to know you do.”
After a few moments, Mattenden returned to his chair beside the bed and sat. “I hesitate to ask for your help, Your Grace, and if it were just me, I wouldn’t. I got into this situation by myself, and I should be left to suffer the consequences of my actions. But there’s Amanda to consider now. She’s been targeted by those involved, and they won’t give up until they’ve killed her.”
Sterling sat back in his chair and studied Amanda’s brother. He’d never had any dealings with the marquess before, and although Mattenden’s reputation was far from stellar, Sterling couldn’t help but like him. Perhaps it was because he was Amanda’s brother and physically they resembled each other. Whatever, Mattenden was correct. Amanda was obviously close to discovering something incriminating and had been targeted by those involved in human trafficking. If she survived this attempt on her life, there would be another. They wouldn’t give up until she’d been eliminated as a threat.
“Do you have an idea of how to proceed?”
“You will help me?” Mattenden asked.
“I will help you because of your sister. As you said, I consider her special in a certain sense.” Sterling sat forward. “Do you have an idea in mind?”
Mattenden shook his head. “Not yet. But there has to be a way to expose the people involved.”
“I will give your situation some thought and we can discuss some possibilities after dinner.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Mattenden looked seriously relieved, and solemnly grateful. “Would you like me to sit with Amanda for a while?”
Sterling shook his head. “Get some rest. You’ll need to regain your strength if we’re going to find the people who did this to your sister.”
Mattenden nodded, then left the room.
Sterling was alone with Amanda again, except for the nurse who’d arrived earlier. Mrs. Flearly seemed competent in the extreme and he was glad for her help.
He touched the back of his hand to her forehead to check for fever. Thankfully, her flesh was cool. He wet a clean cloth with fresh water and placed it against her lips. She didn’t suck on it like he’d hoped she would, but the water dampened her dry mouth. Then, he held her small, limp hand in his and willed his strength to travel into her body. He didn’t consider the fact that she hadn’t wakened since she’d been shot a good sign. He knew the longer she remained unconscious the easier it would be for her to slip away from him.
He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze and prayed she’d squeeze his in return.
She didn’t.
. . .
Sterling wasn’t sure what woke him. Perhaps the rustling from her bed. Perhaps the occasional moan. Perhaps just instinct that something was wrong. But when he looked at her thrashing on the bed, he knew his worst fears had become his living nightmare. Amanda was raging with fever.
Mrs. Flearly was already fussing over her.
He rose and placed his hand against her face. She was burning hot. “How long has she been like this?” he asked, wringing out a cloth from the basin of cool water by her bed. He placed it on her neck and face.
“Not long,” the nurse answered. Only a few minutes.”
“Is there anything else we can do?”
The nurse shook her head. “Just keep her cool, and comfortable.” The nurse paused, then added, “and prepare for the worst.”
That blunt assessment struck terror inside him. Of course, he’d known death was a possibility. The doctor had warned him that it was. But he’d refused to seriously consider it.
We were talking about Amanda Radburn. She was one of the strongest, healthiest females he knew. She wasn’t one of the sickly Society females who swooned at the least provocation, and felt faint at the slightest cause. She was tough. She was a fighter.
But when Sterling placed a fresh cloth against her cheek, she didn’t seem tough. She seemed small, and fragile. She looked as if the fight he was used to seeing in her had disappeared.
“I’ll go below and get some fresh water,” the nurse said, gathering a pail and the damp cloths. “We’ll need it. I’m afraid this is going to be a very long night.”
Sterling waited until the door closed behind the nurse, then leaned over the bed. “My lady, I consider it very rude of you to cause me such concern. Especially when I’ve done everything in my power to assist you. I find it the height of ingratitude to make me worry so.” He placed a fresh cloth on her cheek. “I demand to know what you have to say for yourself.”
She didn’t answer. Of course, he knew she wouldn’t. She did nothing except thrash her head from side to side.
“Shh, my sweet,” he whispered when she moaned in her delirium. “I’m right here. I won’t leave you.” He dampened his cloth and placed it on her forehead. “Promise you won’t leave me. I’m not sure how easy it would be for me to survive without you.”
Sterling dipped his cloth in the basin again and squeezed the water
from it. He wasn’t sure where that thought had come from. He wasn’t sure when he’d considered that Cecelia’s friend might occupy a place in his life. Or what place that might be. He was glad he was spared from having to put a great deal of thought into that answer.
The door opened and Mrs. Flearly walked in, her arms laden with clean cloths and towels. Two footmen followed carrying a large bathing tub, and several servants followed with pails of water.
“Set the tub here,” she ordered, pointing to a spot far away from the hearth.
The footmen did as they were told, and the servants placed the pails of water beside the tub. Only then did Sterling realize that only two of the pails contained water. The others contained ice.
“That will be all,” she instructed the servants. “I’ll call when I need more ice.”
Sterling’s respect for the nurse ratcheted higher. How she’d managed to get ice in that quantity this quickly was beyond him. But she had. And for some reason, hearing the glittering crystals hit the copper tub gave him the first hope he’d felt in hours.
“What do you intend to do with the ice?” he asked. He couldn’t imagine it had a use. Especially a use that involved Amanda.
“It will be used as a last resort.”
“A last resort?”
“Yes. We will try to get the lady’s fever down by using cool cloths. If that doesn’t help in an hour or two, we’ll place her in a tub of ice water. I’ve heard that works on occasion. But not always. Which is why I hesitate to try it unless we have to.
“Now,” she said, filling a basin with ice and water. “We will begin an aggressive campaign to attempt to break the lady’s fever.”
Sterling focused on the no-nonsense nurse. “You couldn’t have learned this in an army field hospital, Nurse Flearly.”
She lifted her gaze. “No, you’re right. Lucky I was to be one of the forty nurses chosen to go with Miss Nightingale to the Crimea, you know. But even Miss Nightengale couldn’t make ice in that hellhole, if you’ll pardon my sayin’ so, Your Grace.”
“I suppose not. But you certainly come with excellent credentials.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. I learned from the best.” Mrs. Flearly placed several towels out on the bed beside Amanda and systematically placed a small pile of ice in the center of each one. “This will be grueling work, Your Grace. Perhaps you’d prefer one of your staff to assist me.”
“No, Mrs. Flearly. I don’t intend to leave.”
“Very well, then. Fill the center of each towel with ice, then tie the corners together thusly.” She tied the four corners together and knotted them. “When you have them securely tied, dip the ice into the basin of water, then place the cloth on the lady. I’ll let you focus on her face, neck and chest. I’ll concentrate on the lower part of her body.”
Sterling began the job he was given. When he had the first towel ready, Mrs. Flearly grabbed his hand and steered the wet towel filled with ice to the crook of Amanda’s neck, just below her ear.
“Now, place the next one on the other side.” She pulled the top ribbon on Amanda’s nightgown and exposed her chest. “Place several across her chest and against her shoulder. Take care with her wound, though.”
Sterling did as he was told, ignoring how Amanda’s breasts were nearly exposed.
Over and over, he dipped the ice-filled towels in water and placed them wherever they reached Amanda’s burning flesh. He even placed towels around her head.
Mrs. Flearly arranged her ice-filled towels around Amanda’s fevered body, even on her wrists. When she had the ice-filled towels arranged, she grabbed another stack of towels, dipped them in ice water, and placed them the length of Amanda’s legs.
“Hold her gown up,” she ordered, and Sterling lifted Amanda’s gown and the nurse placed another icy towel on Amanda’s torso. When they finished, there wasn’t a place on Amanda’s body that wasn’t covered with cold towels.
. . .
All through the night, footmen carried up pails of ice, as well as pails of cold water. The kitchen sent up trays with food, but neither he nor Mrs. Flearly took time to eat. They were too busy replacing the towels on Amanda’s body to take time to eat.
Harry came to see how his sister was doing shortly after dawn and helped replace the icy towels long enough for Mrs. Flearly and Sterling to take much-needed breaks. He couldn’t manage to assist them for long, however. He wasn’t strong enough to endure much physical exertion, and Mrs. Flearly sent him back to rest the first time she saw him stagger on his feet.
The physician arrived midmorning. He examined Amanda for a few minutes, then asked to speak with Mrs. Flearly in private.
Sterling knew what he undoubtedly said, but didn’t insist on hearing it repeated. He knew he would tell Mrs. Flearly that Amanda wasn’t improving. But Sterling already knew that. There’d been times during the early morning when her thrashing had been violent. Times when he’d had to stop replacing the ice-filled cloths on her burning flesh to hold her still for fear she would injure herself. Times when he’d had to lock his fingers around her wrists to keep her from tearing the clothes from her body.
Even though he hadn’t asked what the doctor said, his worst fears unfolded when Mrs. Flearly ordered three upstairs maids to line the large bathing tub with thick towels.
“Perhaps you’d like to step outside for a few moments, Your Grace, while we transfer Lady Amanda to the tub.”
“As a last resort?” he asked, although he didn’t want to hear the answer.
She nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. As a last resort.”
His gaze traveled to Amanda’s fever-ravaged body and her face swam before him. The thought that he might lose her terrified him.
When had she become so important to him?
The thought of four females jostling Amanda as they moved her to the tub was unthinkable. “Have my staff arrange everything to your liking, Mrs. Flearly, then they can leave. I’ll carry Lady Amanda to the tub.”
She nodded. “Very well, Your Grace.”
She supervised the staff preparing the tub, and Sterling took the opportunity to sit for a moment at Amanda’s side. “Lady Amanda,” he whispered in her ear. “I implore you to stay strong. Please. I hesitate to think what my life would be like without you as a part of it.”
He brushed his hand across her fevered forehead, then dipped his fingers in the basin of cold water and touched them to her parched lips.
“I truly enjoyed the kisses we shared, Amanda,” he whispered in her ear, “and beg you to stay with me so we might share more such enjoyable moments in the future.”
She didn’t answer, of course. Nor did she give any indication that she’d heard him.
“Are you ready, Your Grace?” Mrs. Flearly said from behind him.
“Yes,” he answered, pushing himself away from Amanda. But first he placed a kiss to her cheek. Then another to her lips.
He rose and looked at the nurse. “What is it you would like me to do?”
“If you would turn for a moment, I’ll remove the lady’s gown. Then you can carry her to the tub.”
Sterling turned until Mrs. Flearly gave the order he could turn back.
Amanda lay on the bed with only a sheet covering her body. He slid his hands beneath the sheet under her and lifted her in his arms, then carried her to the tub. She seemed so light. So fragile. So delicate.
“Place her in the tub, Your Grace.”
He nodded, then lowered her onto the towels and held her while Mrs. Flearly positioned a pillow beneath her head. When she was sure Amanda was settled, she dumped one pail after another of ice over her. Once Amanda was covered in ice, she poured several of the pails of cool water into the tub.
Even though Amanda was surrounded by icy cold water, her face remained flushed from the heat, and perspiration still streamed from her body.
Hour after hour went by as he and Mrs. Flearly replaced the ice as it melted. If there was a change, Sterling couldn’t see it.
He placed another pail of ice over Amanda, then stood and rolled his aching shoulders.
“I suggest you rest for a bit, Your Grace. I’ll keep watch.”
Sterling shook his head. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Amanda. If she wasn’t going to survive, he wanted to spend every second he had with her.
“I’ll take the first watch, Mrs. Flearly. You rest for a while.”
As if she knew he was determined to stay at Amanda’s side, she nodded, then turned to the connecting room where a cot had been installed for their use. “Call if you need anything, Your Grace.”
“Yes, thank you. I will.”
He sat in the chair beside the tub and watched for any indication that Amanda was improving from the treatment. But there were no signs that she was. Her face remained flushed, her body still thrashed from the fever, and she moved so violently at times he had to physically restrain her.
One agonizing hour after another passed with no indication that her fever had broken and he knew she could not survive much longer. He saw how weak she’d become. He could feel how distant she seemed. Deep in his heart he knew she was leaving this world and traveling to the next.
He closed his eyes to say another prayer to God Almighty that He not take Amanda away from him. His sister would never forgive him if he failed to keep Amanda safe. They were best friends. The result would be that he would not only lose his sister for the rest of his life, but he’d lose a woman who’d become more special to him than he’d imagined any woman could.
He prayed a final plea, then opened his eyes.
His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. Her face was no longer flushed, but pale as death. Her head no longer thrashed from side to side, but lay unmoving. Her body no longer shivered with the chills that had plagued her along with the fever. Instead, she lay deathly still.
Sterling watched her breathing, praying that he’d see the rise and fall of her chest, but she didn’t move.
He knelt beside the tub and placed his hand to her cheek. “Mrs. Flearly!”
The Dark Duke Page 14