The Illegitimate Duke

by Sophie Barnes

  Oh, Vivien!

  Juliette approached her friend with increasing despair. Her eyes were barely open, her breath wheezing past her lips as she offered a weak smile in greeting. “I would rather—” A cough made her body shudder for an agonizing length of time. “You should not see me like this.”

  “Nonsense,” Juliette told her as calmly as she possibly could. She placed her hand upon Vivien’s burning brow and expelled a fragmented breath. “Will you let me examine you?”

  “I didn’t think her condition warranted a physician, but I can send for one if you think it necessary,” Lady Arlington spoke from the door.

  Juliette feared that doing so might be too late. “There is no need,” she said with as much positivity as she was able. “I believe I know what this might be, but I cannot be sure unless you allow me to take a closer look.”

  “It’s all right,” Vivien whispered. “Go ahead.”

  Carefully, Juliette peeled back the covers and helped Vivien sit so she could pull up her nightgown. As she feared, a rash had started to spread across Vivien’s abdomen which, when combined with the fever and hacking dry cough, suggested a sickness more serious than a cold.

  “Have you experienced any nausea lately?” Juliette drew back to hide her distress as much as possible.

  “Some. Mostly, my back and my limbs really ache and I have a terrible headache.”

  “That’s probably because of the fever.” Juliette reached for Vivien’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before picking up the glass that sat on the bedside table and holding it to Vivien’s lips. “I will fetch some more water and some cloth so we can make a cool compress for you. Rest awhile until I return.”

  “I hope it is not too serious,” Lady Arlington said once she and Juliette had left Vivien’s bedchamber. “She does look worse than she did this morning.”

  Steadying herself against the banister, Juliette followed the dowager baroness down the stairs. Suppressing her fear would not be easy. Already, panic was building inside her, growing and expanding with each passing second.

  “Your niece is indeed quite ill.” The voice that spoke sounded foreign, completely devoid of all the emotions assailing her body. Her eyes began to sting, but since crying would serve no purpose, Juliette deliberately pushed back the tears and ignored the aching lump in her throat.

  By the time they arrived in the kitchen, she had squared her shoulders and accepted what had to be done. And that brought a strange sense of peace to her mind, which was something she would not have expected under the circumstances.

  Steeling herself, she gave her prognosis. “Although I am not an apothecary surgeon or a trained physician, I believe Vivien has typhus.”

  Lady Arlington, who’d begun pouring water from a large jug into a smaller one, went utterly still. She shook her head, alarm creeping into her eyes. “No. It cannot be.”

  “Of course there’s a chance I might be mistaken, but according to what I have read, Vivien’s symptoms are in accord with this disease and . . . considering the outbreak in St. Giles and the boy she brought home, I fear she may have contracted it.”

  “Dear God in heaven!”

  Juliette nodded. “If I am correct, measures must be taken to prevent further spread.” She paused for a second before saying, “No one can enter or leave this house for the next two weeks.”

  Lady Arlington stared at her, the jug in her hand completely forgotten. “But . . . You cannot be serious! We shall need food and any number of things that I cannot seem to think of right now.”

  “I am sorry, but quarantine is necessary. At least until we can be sure not to pass the disease on to others.” Resolve gripped Juliette’s body. “Since you may already be infected and there is no guarantee that covering my mouth is enough to keep me safe, it goes without saying that I shall remain here until this has passed.”

  “Juliette . . .” Lady Arlington looked thoroughly distraught, which was understandable, all things considered. After all, Juliette had just delivered the closest thing to a death sentence she possibly could.

  “Putting my family at risk by returning home is out of the question. Besides, you might need my help.”

  “I scarcely know what to say.” Lady Arlington’s voice broke, and the corners of her eyes began to glisten. “But what if you have not yet caught it? Staying here with us could ensure that you do.”

  Juliette nodded. “Yes, but to leave here, without knowing if I am carrying the disease with me, would be highly irresponsible. I cannot do it, though I will need to inform my brother of what has occurred. If you would be so kind as to lend me some writing utensils when we return upstairs, I will pen him a note.” She bit her lips while pondering the best path forward. “Perhaps I can toss it to a passerby from one of the upstairs’ windows and ask them to deliver it.”

  “It seems as though you have it all figured out.” Lady Arlington’s lips began to tremble, and when she spoke again, she sounded weak and defeated. “I am frightened by this. I cannot deny it.”

  “I know.” Juliette softened her voice and told her gently, “We must be strong, however, for Vivien and for ourselves. If we are lucky, we will avoid the suffering she has succumbed to, but if we are not, then we must endure it without inflicting this ailment on others.”

  “How you can be so calm in the midst of such dire circumstances, I do not know.”

  Juliette wasn’t sure she understood it either. Perhaps it was her experience with being sick that made her so, or perhaps it was knowing that typhus was survivable. Florian had lived through it, which meant there was hope. That thought alone was soothing, as were the endless thoughts of the man himself. She wondered how he was faring and prayed she would live to see him again.

  The possibility she might not sent a tear rolling down the side of her cheek. She swiped it away before Lady Arlington had a chance to see it. Strength and courage would get her through this and hopefully . . . hopefully . . . allow her to tell the man she loved how sorely she had missed him.

  Chapter 21

  The last week had passed with infernal slowness, but at least Florian had watched most of the remaining people onboard the quarantine ship return to shore. They would be well on their way back to London by now while Haines, the only remaining patient, was showing excellent signs of improvement.

  “Your symptoms were surprisingly mild compared to everyone else’s,” he told his colleague. “Perhaps you did have typhus as a boy and suffered a reoccurrence.”

  “I would not have thought it possible.” Reclining in a chair placed out on the deck in the sun, Haines watched while Florian mopped the spruce planking for the last time. Circling the ship while hunting for fish, a cheerful flock of seagulls kept them company.

  “Nor I.” It was curious how diseases worked, and Florian was wise enough to acknowledge he did not know everything about them. Far from it. “We were lucky,” he said. “This outbreak would undoubtedly have claimed more lives had it not been for Lady Juliette’s suggestion about this ship.”

  “And her help in procuring it.” There was a tiny pause before Haines said, “She will make some lucky fellow an excellent wife one day.”

  Florian shot the man a look. “Are you thinking of trying to court her?”

  “No. I would not dare encroach on another man’s territory.”

  Straightening, Florian stopped mopping for a second and frowned at Haines. “What are you saying?”

  At this point Haines rolled his eyes and sighed with excessive amounts of exasperation. “You are obviously interested in her. It is in the way your eyes light up whenever you speak her name.”

  Florian’s cheeks grew hot, and he realized to his horror that he was probably blushing. Damn! He quickly turned away and gave his attention to sloshing more water onto the deck. “I confess I find her appealing.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Very well. She is a woman of pleasing anatomical configuration whose ability to find solutions in a crisis deserves any man’
s admiration.”

  A loud snort was Haines’s immediate response. “You sound like an equine breeder showing off the merits of his favorite mare.”

  Expelling a sigh, Florian set the mop against a barrel and crossed his arms. “I do not excel at sharing my feelings with people. Hell, I rarely share them with myself, so you must forgive the clinical way in which I describe my affection.”

  “At least you are able to call it affection, which would suggest emotional attachment.”

  Florian groaned. “Precisely what I have been trying so hard to avoid.”

  “Why?”

  He could not possibly reveal that much, so he merely shrugged and walked to the railing and looked out over the water. The air was blessedly fresh out here, such a pleasant departure from the filthy city air.

  “With all the pain and death that surrounds me, shutting it out is easier than letting it in.” And since he’d no desire to continue this conversation with a man he wasn’t particularly close to, he quickly snatched the mop back up and resumed his task. “It will be good to return to some proper lodgings soon. I, for one, am looking forward to sleeping in a real bed and eating a fine piece of meat.”

  “As am I.”

  Florian glanced at Haines who looked like he might be drooling at the very idea of such luxury. “A good glass of wine would be welcome too. And an ice! I have been craving a visit to Gunther’s for the last two days.”

  Florian grinned and gave his attention to completing his chore. If all went well, they would leave the ship and return to London in another couple of days and he would finally . . . finally . . . be able to tell Juliette how much she’d come to mean to him.

  “You ought to be in bed yourself,” Vivien said. Her voice was so weak Juliette was forced to lean in closer so she could hear.

  “I will be fine.” I hope. A rawness within forced a cough from her throat even as she spoke. Since showing symptoms of the disease the day before, Juliette had stopped covering her mouth and nose with the linen, which made it easier for her to breathe. “You are the one I am most concerned about, Vivien. You—” The words caught and cracked with the desperation she felt on account of her friend’s deterioration.

  During the course of the past week, Vivien’s fever had lingered. When it had suddenly subsided, Juliette had been overjoyed, only to have her hopes crushed when it had returned, stronger than ever before and throwing Vivien’s mind into an often delirious state. Today when Juliette had come to check on her, she’d been distraught by the sight of gangrenous sores on Vivien’s fingers and toes and by the cadaverous stench she emitted. Washing her had tested Juliette’s composure when all she had wanted to do was succumb to the sobs knotting tightly inside her chest.

  “Juliette . . .” Vivien reached out, and Juliette caught her hand, cradling the frail thing as if it might break. “I fear Lord Portham has lost his chance to court me.”

  Tears brimmed in Juliette’s eyes, and unlike her previous efforts to force them back, she failed this time. Heat had begun creeping over her own forehead last evening and her weakening constitution apparently made her exceedingly weepy.

  “Don’t be silly.” She coughed again and pressed a hand to her aching belly. “That pompous man never stood a chance with someone as wonderful as you.” She forced a smile for Vivien’s benefit. “You deserve an earl at the very least.”

  “Perhaps one awaits me in heaven.” Vivien’s eyes closed on that thought. “Would such a thing not be lovely?”

  Unable to speak for fear she might choke on the misery of it all, Juliette simply sat, coughing from time to time while offering Vivien companionship. Lady Arlington had taken to her own bed three days earlier, so Juliette had made it her mission to care for these women as best as she could.

  A clink against the windowpane drew her attention. Rising, she assured Vivien she would be right back and then went to look out. As expected, it was Raphe. He had been stopping by every day since she’d informed him of her decision to isolate herself with Vivien and Lady Arlington. Just as on those previous occasions, he’d brought a basket of food which would be placed on the front step so she could fetch it later, once he was gone.

  “How are you?” His voice called up to her from below with such vitality, she could not help but envy the energy he possessed. And yet, in spite of his positive tone, there was no denying the layer of concern covering his eyes.

  “As expected,” she rasped while curling her fingers around the window frame for support. “I’ve a fever, my body aches all over and I am exhausted by fatigue. Compared with Vivien, however, I am in excellent condition.”

  Compassion settled upon his face, but beneath it, she saw the dread he struggled to hide from her. “I am sorry, Juliette.” His voice fractured on her name and he glanced away for a second before looking back up with renewed determination. “I have written to Florian, but have not heard back. The Dowager Duchess of Tremaine has once again offered to come and check on you herself or to send another physician if you prefer.”

  “No.” Juliette shook her head. “Florian is the only one who might resist infection. I will not allow anyone else near us.”

  “But . . .” Words seemed to fail him. He shook his head and raked both hands through his hair. “I do not know what to do. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Julie. You are my sister, and I swore I would always protect you and now . . . Why did you have to come here? Why—”

  “You know why.” The effort it took to raise her voice enough so he could hear was starting to wear her down.

  Pressing his lips together, he offered a jerky nod. “Yes. You are goodness itself, Juliette, and I love you. We all love you.”

  “As I love you.” Another bout of coughing overcame her, scraping over her throat until it felt raw. “Give my best to Gabriella and Amelia.”

  “I will come again tomorrow,” he promised before offering his best ducal bow and turning away. One hand rose to his cheek and gave it a swipe as he climbed into his carriage, waving one last time before the conveyance took off and rolled out of view.

  “We have fresh food,” Juliette told Vivien while offering the window her back. A strange stillness greeted her, creeping through her veins and shaking her heart. “Vivien?”

  Not a single sound emerged from the bed, not even the hint of slumber. Approaching slowly while alarm took hold of her body, Juliette forced her feet steadily forward until she was able to see her friend clearly. An uninhibited sob rose from her throat at the sight she beheld, of Vivien’s glassy eyes staring up at the ceiling, her lips slightly parted upon her final exhale.

  She’d died alone, in that brief moment in which Juliette had left her side.

  Pressing her knuckles to her mouth, Juliette muffled her grief while tears spilled over her cheeks. With trembling fingers she reached out and carefully lowered Vivien’s eyelids. She then proceeded to smooth the sheets around her while trying to come to terms with what came next. She had no idea what to do, truth was. To let another person into the house could prove detrimental and yet, leaving Vivien’s body here for more than a day was not an option either. Overwhelmed by sickness, tiredness and the hopelessness she faced, Juliette felt her last bit of stubborn determination evaporate. This was it. Before long, she would be following Vivien into the beyond. And before she did so, she was going to have to inform Lady Arlington of her niece’s passing.

  After dropping Haines off at his lodgings, Florian continued toward his own home. Having a bath and getting a change of clothes would be necessary before he headed over to the hospital or even considered meeting with Lady Juliette.

  “Welcome home, Your Grace,” Baker said the moment he opened the door and offered to take Florian’s bag, hat and gloves. “We are all extremely relieved to have you back safely.”

  “It was a trying ten days, I have to admit, but it was necessary.” Florian shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a hook on the wall.

  Baker set Florian’s hat on the hallway table. “Some co
rrespondence awaits your attention in your study, and the Duke of Huntley stopped by earlier in the week. He said to call on him as soon as you return.”

  Florian nodded. “Did he say what it was in regard to?”

  “No. He refused to mention it.”

  Well then, it would simply have to wait until Florian had put himself to rights. “If you could please ask Jillian to help you bring up some hot water from the kitchen, I would be much obliged.” He would usually have offered to lend a hand, but he was too bone-weary to do much of anything besides climb the stairs.

  He did so slowly, reaching the landing only minutes before Jillian and Baker arrived with the first pails of water. The small brass tub that permanently stood in an adjoining chamber was expeditiously filled, the servants departing swiftly so Florian could bathe in private.

  Lord, it felt good to slide into the soothing bathwater. The warmth of it lapped against his tired body from all sides, producing a deep calm. He had not gotten a proper night’s sleep in weeks, but now, with the typhus under control and the threat of further contagion drastically minimized, he would finally be able to enjoy some much-needed relaxation.

  Closing his eyes he leaned back and allowed a tentative smile. It would be wonderful seeing Juliette again. Of course there was still Bartholomew to consider. He’d have to meet with Henry as soon as possible to see if he’d discovered anything new about Armswell’s poisoning and the false claims about him seducing Elmwood’s wife. Proof of Bartholomew’s involvement would be essential when trying to bring him down.

  With this in mind, Florian washed himself, dried off and got dressed. Selecting a clean handkerchief from the top drawer of his dresser, he placed the piece of monogrammed fabric in his pocket and left his bedchamber.

  “You’ve a visitor,” Baker said when Florian arrived downstairs.

  He handed him a calling card and Florian instantly froze as he read the twirling script. Mr. William Mortedge. Invisible pins pricked at the nape of his neck while apprehension flared out across his skin.