by Regina Darcy
“Are you sure I’m not dying?”
She knew that he was joking to make the grim situation less intense, but tears began to pour from her eyes.
David instantly knew that he had blundered. “My dear one, I’m sorry. What an ass I am to make you unhappy again over Christmas. I am sorry for this.”
“You couldn’t help falling from your horse,” she said, trying to smile through her tears.
“At my age, I ought to know how to stay on a horse. Funny that I don’t remember a bit of it.”
“That might be the laudanum. The doctor wanted you to have plenty of it so that you would not move about through the night. And to keep the pain away.”
“So that’s why I’m trussed like a Christmas goose in my own bed. As to the pain. . . I believe the dosage is wearing off.”
“He’s coming in the morning. It’ll be morning soon, dearest.”
“Not soon enough. Perhaps a glass of whiskey . . . ”
“Let’s wait until Dr Parsons returns and hear what he says before you drink anything strong that might work against the laudanum. I’m sure he’ll be giving you more.”
“He’d better. Either that or a bottle of whiskey,” David said. “Now, what’s the diagnosis? I’ve broken an arm before, hurt like the blazes, but I don’t remember feeling like this.”
“You are older now, of course.”
“Unkind of you to remind me,” he said, but he sounded light-hearted about it. “What sort of break is it?”
“I don’t know . . . he didn’t go into medical detail.”
“Must be pretty bad . . . it’s bad, isn’t it, Theodosia?”
“I—”
“The truth.”
“He says your arm is shattered.”
“Shattered!”
“I’m not at all sure what he means. He did say that you must be very careful in following instructions so that it will mend. I’m going to nurse you.”
“You?”
“Yes! Why shouldn’t I?”
“No reason at all except that I shall be a nuisance.”
“You are my husband.”
David didn’t answer. Theodosia wondered if she had said something she ought not to have said. But then he spoke again. “I haven’t been much of a husband, have I?”
“You have fulfilled all your promises.”
“They were easy promises to make. Give you an allowance, promise you a settlement. Money makes for easy promises, doesn’t it? And yet, here you are, offering to nurse me.”
“Do you not want me to nurse you?” Theodosia asked with a confused frown.
“I don’t want to need you to nurse me. There is a difference.”
“Yes, but circumstances require that you get nursing. I am not trained and I have no experience, but I shall learn. Tabitha and Arthur are staying here to help. James is going to help with your care. Mrs Morris and Abbot will be here too.”
“I’ve done it up properly, haven’t I!” he exclaimed bitterly. “I’ve gone and ruined everyone’s Christmas.”
“Is that what you think?” Theodosia demanded. “We care about you and want to help and you berate yourself because Christmas will be different this year? Do you so resent needing help that you must chide us for giving, out of our affection for you, the care that you need?”
“You would understand if you were in my position. I have always managed for myself, until—”
“Until you married me? Was that what you intended to say?”
“No,” he said finally. “I intended to say that until I married you, I didn’t need anyone. Now I find that I need to hear your piano playing in the evening when I return and I need to see your face in the morning at breakfast. I need you as I have never needed anyone, but I could endure that because I was healthy and whole. Now you are a wife of less than a fortnight and I need a nurse. Can you not see how this feels for someone like me?”
Theodosia came closer to him and put her hand on his forehead. “I only see that you are suffering, David, and there is nothing I can do to help.”
“There is something you can do to help,” he said.
“Anything.”
“Don’t leave me.”
“Oh, David . . . as if I would.”
“Blast this arm . . . I can’t kiss you as a man ought to do.”
“I shall count it a debt,” she said, laughing, “to be paid in full when you are able.”
When Doctor Parsons arrived early in the morning, he saw that Theodosia, now respectably attired, was sitting at the bedside of her husband, soothing his forehead as he moaned.
“Dr Parsons,” she begged, “he is in such pain.”
“I’ll give him laudanum, but first I need to check him.”
“My arm?”
“No, I’ve wrapped it firmly and I want it to stay in place. I want to make sure that you aren’t feverish.”
He checked over his patient carefully. “I want to make sure that you eat,” he said. “Laudanum is a powerful drug. I don’t want you to eat too heartily, but you must have sustenance. Have your cook prepare broth,” he directed Theodosia. “Three times a day. Tomorrow we’ll see if he’s fit for more. I’ll leave the laudanum with you, milady. To be administered after he’s eaten. No more than the dosage that I direct you. We don’t want the Marquess to be healed of a broken arm only to become an opium-eater.
The doctor was satisfied by the expression of alarm that appeared in Theodosia’s eyes. “Yes,” he said. “It’s a threat and one which happens all too often. You then, you will do as your wife bids you to do? No laudanum until you’ve drunk a full bowl of broth.”
“I am not hungry.”
“You may not be, but inside, your body is hungry for what it needs.”
“It needs to be out of pain.”
“And so you will be. Eat first, then the medicine. I’ll be sending over a trained nurse later today to instruct you and your household in the care that he’ll be needing.”
“Thank you, Dr Parsons. We’re very grateful to you for your help.”
“I’ll be in the city all this month, all through Christmas,” the doctor said. “I’ll stop by every day to check on him.”
“Another one whose holiday I am ruining,” David muttered.
“Be glad that you are alive to ruin it,” the Doctor told him sharply. “A funeral is quicker, I grant you, but I’ve rarely heard of an instance where it was the preferred option.”
His acerbic words silenced David.
“Thank you, Parsons,” David said. “My apologies to all.”
“Just get better, man,” the Doctor said. “That is all that we need.” He turned to Theodosia. “I’ll have a word with your housekeeper and with Lady Randstand before I leave,” he said. “My lord,” he inclined his head.
They watched him leave the room. “I’m sorry for being such an ogre,” David said.
Theodosia touched his cheek. “You aren’t an ogre,” she said tenderly. “I want to tell Mrs Morris to hurry with the broth. The sooner you eat, the sooner you will get your medicine and the sooner the pain will depart.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Perhaps not, but you heard the doctor and we must do as he says.”
Her tone was both loving and firm. David sighed and closed his eyes as another wave of pain roiled through his body. He gritted his teeth but could not restrain himself from moaning as the pain stretched beyond his endurance.
“I shall hurry Mrs Morris,” Theodosia said desperately.
“Don’t leave.”
“But you are in pain—”
“Stay.”
Unable to deny her husband, Theodosia stayed.
It was not long before Mrs Morris brought up a hot bowl of broth on a tray.
She and Theodosia put more pillows behind David’s back so that he could sit up while she fed him.
“Milady, shall I bring you something?”
“No,” Theodosia answered. She would not eat in front of David, not wh
ile he was limited to broth. She could eat later.
“You must eat, you know,” David said as he swallowed the spoonful of broth she placed into his mouth.
“I shall do so.”
“I don’t expect you to starve merely because Parsons thinks me an invalid and has put me on this absurd regimen.”
“You said that you are not hungry,” she reminded him. “Therefore, this absurd regimen, as you call it, ought not to disappoint you.”
He was smiling ever so slightly as he swallowed the next spoonful of broth.
“Quite quick-witted, aren’t you?”
“Not particularly. But I am holding a bowl of hot broth in my hands and you ought to mind your tongue, or risk me spilling it on you and scalding you.”
“It would be a different sort of pain at any rate.”
“Different pain would not be an improvement.”
They went on in this way, a curious blend of banter and temper until the bowl was empty. She put the bowl and spoon on the tray and gave him the dosage of laudanum that was written in the doctor’s hand upon the bottle.
“You’ll stay,” he asked drowsily as the laudanum began to take effect.
“I’ll be here when you awake,” she promised.
He was asleep when the nurse arrived. She was a middle-aged woman with a strong build and a manner that brooked no-nonsense. She wasted no time in pleasantries.
“He’ll need someone to help him with the chamberpot,” she said. “I take it that will be you?” she said looking at the footman.
James looked uncertainly at Theodosia.
“She’s not strong enough to help him stand,” the nurse said. “It’s to be you. Now, as you’ve got the same parts as he, you’ll know what to do. He won’t care for being treated like a child, but the sooner you get him up and about, the better and that’s where it’ll start. As for bathing, you’ll need to do that too. He’ll need help. He hasn’t the support of the arm for getting into a bathtub, but he’ll need washing all over. Patients must be kept clean. There’s doctors who let their patients lie in their own filth. Dr Parsons doesn’t hold with that.”
“James,” Theodosia asked. “Are you quite sure that you—”
“I’m sure, milady,” James said. “His Lordship has always been good to me, and now he’s taking on my sister so that she can leave where she’s at . . . I’m glad to help.”
Theodosia knew that David would want his footman to be compensated for the extra work and she resolved to see to it. She would pay him out of the money that David had allocated for her personal expenses so that it would not diminish the household finances. She was not going to need all that money anyway and, just now, the thought of new dresses and hats seemed very frivolous.
The first dose of laudanum had been given so that he would rest and be free of pain for a period of time. It was not enough to render him unconscious and when he awoke, Theodosia summoned James to help him with the chamber pot and to give him a washing. David glowered at her.
“I feel like a blasted infant.”
“If you were an infant,” she said, “I could bathe you myself. James is willing to do it out of his regard for you. Will you treat his kindness with shabby insults?”
That silenced her husband. James knocked and entered the room. Theodosia left so that her husband would have his pride as well as his privacy.
“How is he?” Tabitha asked when her cousin came into the dining room.
“Well enough to be vexed,” Theodosia said.
“I’ll have Mrs Morris bring something for you,” Tabitha said.
“No, not yet. She can bring me up something after he’s taken the second dose of laudanum and is asleep again. I wish Dr Parsons could give us a schedule of some sort so that we would know when to expect signs of improvement.”
“It’s still very soon,” Arthur reminded her kindly. “Much too soon for him to make any predictions.”
“He didn’t check David’s arm,” Theodosia fretted.
“He likely doesn’t want to disturb the bones and put them out of place. If the arm stays immobile, there’s a better chance of it healing.”
Theodosia sighed. “I suppose so,” she conceded. “But it’s dreadfully hard, waiting, and I know that David is worried although he tries to seem as though he is only irritated.”
When she returned to David’s bedchamber, James was gone and her husband was in his bed, cleanly shaven and his hair combed.
“I suppose I’ve ended up with a valet after all,” he remarked. “A valet/nursemaid. Not many of those for hire.”
“No, not many. James may be the first of his kind. We shall have to increase his wages after this or every man in London who has had a fall will be trying to take him from us.”
She sat down in her chair, the bowl of broth she had received from Mrs Morris in her hands. “You can eat and then get your medicine,” she said. “As you rest, you are getting stronger.”
“I don’t feel very strong,” he said, opening his mouth for the spoonful of broth that appeared.
“You will, though,” she promised him.
He was silent and she did not wish to interrupt his thoughts. She would have been stunned had she known what he was thinking.
Despite his dismal condition, David only had eyes for his wife. She was so solicitous without being patronising. Even though he needed to be fed, she was not behaving as if he were a child. But what a good mother she would be, he thought. She would be attentive and compassionate, but also firm. If he could overcome his dread of fatherhood and his doubts that he could ever be the kind of father he had wanted his father to be, she would be the woman to mother a child of his body.
He closed his eyes. Flat on your back and you’re thinking of fathering a child, he mocked himself silently. That’s not part of the arrangement. Five years and done, that’s what you signed, that’s what she signed. All legal and quite clear.
Well, as clear and legal as such a document could be; he’d wager there weren’t many of those around. And now, here he was, wondering if perhaps, just perhaps, it might be possible.
He sensed movement and opened his eyes. Theodosia was putting the empty bowl on the tray and was pouring the laudanum into a spoon.
“For your pain,” she whispered and after he swallowed, she quickly kissed him on his forehead.
He was so quiet that at first she thought he had fallen asleep. But then he opened his eyes and said, “Not nearly as good as kissing in the carriage,” before closing his eyes again.
Theodosia smiled.
Yes, not nearly as good as kissing in the carriage.
TWELVE
David was adamant. He wasn’t going to remain in bed on Christmas Day and he wasn’t going to loll upon a bed like some d---d invalid, either. James, who had no option but to obey his master, came into the Marquess’ bedroom on Christmas Day, as he had been instructed.
“It’s Christmas Day, Theodosia,” David said. “As your husband, I am ordering you to go to your room and dress in something festive. You must see to our guests.”
“It’s only Tabitha and Arthur; they’ll understand why I prefer to stay up here with you.”
“But Mrs Morris has given up her Christmas holiday to prepare a meal for all of you. It would be churlish to let her efforts go to nought if you stay up here to feed me broth. James will see to things here.”
And so James did, after Theodosia reluctantly left the room. He heated water for a bath and helped the Marquess lower himself into it while keeping his bandaged arm and its sling free from the water. When he was finished bathing David and shaving him, James helped him to stand and then, once he was towelled dry, dressed him in clothing for the first time since the fall.
“I’m sick of wearing nothing but nightshirts, James,” David said. “When I’m better, I vow that I’m going to sleep as God made me, just like the natives on some tropical island.”
James was scandalised at the prediction but put it down to the effects of the la
udanum, even though the Marquess was taking less of the medicine. It was mostly at night so that he could sleep.
David examined himself in the mirror. “I’ve lost weight,” he complained.
“It’ll soon be back, my lord, once you’re eating real food again.”
“Yes, let us hope so. I feel as if I’m only half a man. Getting back to at least three-quarters of manhood will be an improvement.”
“Just put your arm around my waist, my lord, and lean on me—”
“James, my legs are perfectly able to support me. It’s my arm that is unreliable.”
“Yes, sir, but you haven’t been walking much since the fall.”
“I haven’t been allowed to do much, I remind you. Now then, I shall hold onto the railing and you shall stand in front of me. If I fall, regrettably I shall topple onto you, probably knock you down the stairs and break both our necks.”
“Yes, sir,” James said, apparently taking the Marquess at his word but willing to risk his life in service of his master.
“I shall try not to fall,” David said, sighing. James did not have much of a sense of humour, or perhaps he was so instilled with a sense of his mission that he did not feel the occasion deserved levity.
Theodosia and his guests did not know that he planned to join them for Christmas dinner. It was a surprise that he had hatched with James and he was determined to follow through with it. Their descent down the staircase was slow; as James had noted, David hadn’t done much walking and his days of being bedridden had kept him from standing overlong as well. He felt a trifle light-headed from being upright, but he gripped the railing more tightly and took each step slowly, his pace gradual and measured.
Finally, after what seemed an interminable amount of time, the staircase was behind them and it was a matter of walking, again with a slow gait, to the drawing-room. James, unable to resist a bit of drama for the occasion, flung open the doors.
“His Lordship, the Marquess of Marquenson,” he exclaimed.
Theodosia, Tabitha and Arthur turned at the words. Theodosia sprang from her chair and ran to David’s side.
“You are here!” she cried out.
“I have been here the entire time,” he said. “I simply have not been allowed to leave my prison. But now, with James as my accomplice, I am freed.”