by Rose Pearson
That made him consider matters in a very different light. This terrible fever that had taken such a grip of his house now brought fresh matters into view, making Gideon realize that he would have to consider his future with Georgina with a great deal of seriousness. Could he really marry someone who cared so little for him, and for whom he did not give more than half a thought upon occasion? She was beautiful, yes, but he realized he knew very little about her. He did not know, nor did he care, about what she did with her time, what novels she enjoyed or what music she preferred. He did not know whether she enjoyed walking or riding the most. Surely one ought to know such things about one’s betrothed?
The thought continued to gnaw at him as he made his way back towards the house, the basket of eggs in his hand. It was not as though he did not have enough on his mind already, but the sudden realization that he had not once thought of Georgina in this last week continued to plague him.
Walking in through the servant’s entrance, he set down the eggs carefully before going to check on the two footmen who, thanks to Josephine’s hard work and tender care now appeared to be doing a good deal better. Josephine had said she hoped they would make a full recovery and, as he stepped into the room to see them both eating broth of their own accord, a smile spread across his face.
“My lord,” one of them said, still looking a little feverish but a good deal better none the less. “I think I should be able to get out of bed soon and help you, as I ought. I –”
Gideon held up a hand. “You are not to get out of your bed and resume your duties until Miss Josephine says that you are ready to do so,” he replied, with a small smile. “You look a good deal better the both of you, and I am greatly relieved to see that.”
The second footman, Marks, smiled with relief. “I am glad of it too, my lord.”
“It is very good to see your strength returning,” Gideon said, feeling his stomach grumble slightly at the sight and smell of the broth the two footmen had. “If you should need anything, you need but ring for Jones or Miss Josephine – or myself, if they are busy.”
The two footmen nodded and gave him their thanks and Gideon excused himself, feeling his hunger growing all the more.
There was plenty of broth but Gideon had to admit that he was growing a little tired of eating the same thing every day. Making his way to the pantry, he began to look through the shelves but found himself growing angry, realizing that he had very little idea what to do with any of it. For heaven’s sake, he did not even know how to make a loaf of bread! It was either Gillian, the kitchen maid, or Miss Josephine who baked one every morning. Normally, Gillian would have been able to make something more than just broth and bread for dinner but his mother had required a little more attention of late, which he did not know was either a good thing or a bad. Either way, she was not present and able to make him anything, which meant he was entirely on his own.
Something moved in the bag of flour he was looking at, making him jump with fright. Staggering back, he felt his breath catch in his chest in disgust, realizing that there were insects of some kind in the flour. Insects! That flour could not be used, surely!
“And just how many more are there within these walls?” he muttered to himself, his eyes going from one sack of flour to another, feeling his stomach churn. He had been working so hard and now all of the food in the pantry might well be contaminated by all kinds of creatures! Running his hands through his hair, Gideon let out a long, heavy sigh. He had no idea where to go to fetch more flour and, even if he did have clean flour, he could not make something out of it. Aside from looking after the animals and managing to sweep a floor or two, he was next to useless.
His stomach growled louder and, muttering darkly under his breath, Gideon stomped out of the pantry – only to walk straight into Miss Josephine.
“Oh!”
Catching her arms, Gideon made to steady Miss Josephine as she staggered back, his hands tight as he held her steadily.
“Goodness, Lord Dunstable, I did not see you there,” Miss Josephine said, with a small smile. “Are you quite all right? Whatever were you doing in the pantry?”
Slowly, he let her go, his arms falling to his sides as frustration and disappointment ran through him. “I thought to find something to eat,” he replied, with a shrug of his shoulders. “But it is next to useless. There are insects of some kinds in the flour and besides which, I – I do not have any skill with such matters.”
He let his gaze slip from Miss Josephine, afraid that she would laugh at him but, to his surprise, she stepped forward and looked over his shoulder into the pantry.
“Show me.”
Looking at her, he saw her eyes warm as she smiled at him – and something began to curl in his belly.
“Show me the insects,” she insisted, taking his hand when he did not immediately move. “If they’re what I think they are, then there is no reason that we cannot use the flour as it is.”
“As it is?” he repeated, astonished enough by her reaction to move into the pantry with her. “We cannot use flour that has those things in it, surely?”
Miss Josephine let out a laugh as he pointed to the sack of flour. “My dear sir, you have very little understanding of what life is like for those beneath your station. When I lived with my parents, we often found these weevils in our flour.” She tipped her head and smiled at him. “My mother sieved them out as best she could and then used the flour regardless – just as we will do now.”
This made him pause, a realization of just how different their lives were beginning to sweep over him. “I see. You are quite right, Miss Josephine. I do not understand such a way of living.”
“That is not your fault,” she replied, gently, putting one hand on his arm. “I did not intend to shame you. It is just that your reaction to something such as this did make me laugh.”
He could not help but smile despite the heat in his face. “I understand,” he replied, gently. “Thank you, Miss Josephine.”
She dropped her hand and, for a moment, the air crackled between them. They were in such a small space, almost pressed together as their eyes met, his gaze holding hers.
And then, Miss Josephine cleared her throat.
“Might you take this sack out to the kitchen?” she asked, stepping past him. “I will find the sieve and we will make ourselves a pie or two.”
His stomach growled loudly and, to his embarrassment, Miss Josephine heard it, throwing her head back in laughter. Gideon, despite his red face, found himself joining in the laughter, the mirth lifting his spirits.
“I can tell you are hungry, Lord Dunstable,” Miss Josephine chuckled, as he set the flour on the worn kitchen table. “Should you be able to help me, then I think we could make a couple of meat pies and perhaps an apple pie or two for dessert? Would that satisfy your hunger pangs?”
Smiling at her, Gideon spread his hands. “If you are not too exhausted, Miss Josephine. I would not like you to weary yourself even more than you have been doing.”
“Well, Lord Dunstable, the very reason I came to find you was to inform you that I believe your mother has greatly improved today,” Miss Josephine replied, setting down the sieve onto the table before going in search of a bowl. “That is why Gillian has been with her for so long. Lady Dunstable has been hungry today, which is a very good sign. Gillian has been giving her broth and bread, as well as water whenever she is thirsty. She is not yet able to rise from her bed but I hope she will be able to sit up tomorrow. I know she will be glad to see you.”
Gideon felt his breath sucked from his body, forced to lean on the table in front of him for a moment. His mother was not going to die, it seemed. The fever had not taken her. She was recovering.
“And your sister is not as sick as your mother was, I do not think,” Miss Josephine continued, her voice gentling as she saw his expression. “I feel sure she will recover also. Doctor Thomas always said that after nine days, the patient is more than likely to make an improvement. Miss Pe
ters is strong. She will do that, my lord, I am certain of it.”
His breath shuddered out of him, his entire body trembling violently for a moment. This was more than he had expected, more than he could almost take in. He was not going to be left alone. He would have his sister and his mother back again, in time.
“Thank you, Miss Josephine,” he breathed, his voice breaking with emotion. “I cannot share with you just how much gratitude I have for what you have done.” Tears sprang to his eyes and he blinked them away rapidly, his gaze dropping to the table as he dragged air into his lungs.
Something warm touched his hand and he twisted his head to look at her, seeing Miss Josephine’s gentle expression. She was standing so close to him, trying to comfort him as best she could and his appreciation grew all the more.
“Thank you, Miss Josephine,” he said again, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Thank you.”
“You have done your part too, my lord,” she replied, as her fingers twined with his. “Your mother has recovered, thanks to you and to Jones also. She will require you to be by her side all the more these next few days. Which is why,” she continued, a little more briskly, “we must make these pies. Lady Dunstable will need to eat something a little more substantial in the coming days. Gillian did say that there was meat in the pantry, in the cool box.”
Gideon reluctantly let go of her hand, looking at her with such admiration that he could feel it warm all through him. Here was a lady with more fortitude, more strength and more determination than he himself possessed. She had fought on with an almost relentless spirit, doing all she could to keep his mother and sister battling against the fever, whilst still somehow managing to cook, clean and generally aid him in his running of the house.
Without being aware that he was even doing it, he pulled Miss Josephine into his arms and held her tightly, feeling his breathing growing ragged as he battled the tears that came to his eyes once again.
He tried to thank her but nothing came from his lips other than a harsh sigh. Miss Josephine seemed to understand, however, for her arms wrapped about his waist, her head resting gently against his chest.
When she tipped her head up to look at him, a gentle smile on her face, he could not help but lean down and press his lips to her cheek. How had he ever been so blessed as to have such a wonderful creature stumble into his path? Had he not ended up at the Devil’s basement, then he might never have found her, might never have known the relief that came with his mother and sister’s recovery. Raising his head, he heard her breath catch and, for a moment, an entirely different emotion ran through him.
Their eyes locked as he saw her cheeks color, surprised that he found himself thinking that, despite the tiredness in her eyes, she was rather pretty. Dismissing the thought, he smiled at her and saw her tentatively smile back, the blush darkening her cheeks all the more.
“You are going to be quite all right, Lord Dunstable,” she whispered, as he slowly, reluctantly let her go. “Everything is going to be just as it once was. All it needs is a little more time.”
“A little more time,” he murmured, suddenly realizing that one day soon, Miss Josephine would no longer be in his life and finding his heart dropping to the floor at the thought. “You will stay until you are certain they are both truly recovered?”
Her smile broadened. “But of course, my lord,” she replied, moving back towards the weevil-infested flour. “You have my word.”
It was all he needed.
9
“And how are you today, Lady Dunstable?”
The lady smiled back at Josephine and Josephine noticed that there was a little color in her cheeks this morning. It had been five days since she had first told Lord Dunstable that she believed his mother was on the way to a full recovery and since then, not only had Lady Dunstable improved but his sister, Miss Peters, had begun to recover also. The footmen below stairs continued to improve, to the point that one of them was already out of bed and attempting to help where he could, despite Josephine’s warnings to take his time and not put himself under any additional strain.
“I feel a good deal more like myself, Josephine,” Lady Dunstable said, resting her head back against the pillows. “Might I get up this morning? Even for a short time?”
Josephine hesitated for a moment but nodded. She did not know how to deal with a lady of quality wanting to rise from her bed, having only the experience of the poor and needy in the Devil’s basement back in Smithfield Market. Once they had been able enough to rise, Doctor Thomas had sent them back to their home – if they still had one – to be cared for by relatives, if they still had any. Otherwise, they were sent to one of the recovery wards, which had been set up all around London for those who had nowhere else to go but had managed to survive the fever.
“So long as you have Gillian with you,” she said, slowly. “And so long as you return to your bed the moment you begin to feel tired. The fever will have taken your strength and you will need to build it up slowly.”
Lady Dunstable beamed with delight at this news and Josephine felt glad for such a biddable patient. Had she told Lady Dunstable that she ought to remain abed for another day or so, Josephine knew that she would not have complained.
“I had best to see Miss Peters.” Josephine rose to her feet, just as Lord Dunstable came in. “Do excuse me.”
“But of course,” Lady Dunstable smiled, as Lord Dunstable came to sit by her side. “Thank you, Josephine.”
Josephine caught Lord Dunstable’s eye for a moment and saw him smile at her, his gaze lingering for an overly long moment. Her heart quickened but she turned her head away, berating herself for such foolishness. Lord Dunstable was a baron and she nothing more than a maid, if that. Whilst it was true that they had grown close over these last, difficult days, there was nothing more to it than that. She ought not to let her heart fill with thoughts of him, not when she was to leave this house very soon.
“Miss Peters,” she said, forcing herself to think only of her patient. “I am glad to see you sitting up this morning. How do you feel?”
Miss Peters smiled wanly, as Gillian set aside the broth she had been feeding the lady.
“I am a little better, I think,” Miss Peters replied, weakly. “Although I am very tired.”
Josephine smiled gently and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “That is to be expected, Miss Peters. I –”
“Francine, please,” Miss Peters interrupted, putting one hand over Josephine’s. “You have done so much for me that I cannot allow you to remain so proper in your address. Please, Josephine.”
Josephine smiled happily, recalling just how upset Miss Peters had been at her arrival and finding herself grateful that Miss Peters’ opinion of her had changed so drastically. “Thank you, Francine,” she replied, pleasantly. “As I was saying, you have battled scarlet fever for some days and now, I’m afraid, it will take time for you to recover entirely. Your skin will need to be bathed and it may peel.” She saw Francine frown and felt herself grow all the more sympathetic. “I will do all I can for you to soften the discomfort,” she promised. “Your throat still aches, does it?”
Francine nodded. “A little, but it does not burn as it once did.”
Satisfied to hear this, Josephine let out a long breath of relief. “I am very glad to hear you say so, Francine. You are well on the way to recovery and, given that myself and Jones have not caught the fever, I would suggest that you need not fear catching it again. It seems as though having it once prevents you from having to endure it again.”
“That is a small mercy,” Francine replied, attempting to push herself up a little more. “And how is Mama?”
“Much better,” Josephine replied, firmly. “She will want to see you, I am sure. Perhaps tomorrow she will have enough strength to come to your room.”
Francine nodded and smiled, a single tear trickling down her cheek. “I am so glad. Thank you, Josephine.”
“I did not do it all,” Josephine s
aid gently. “Your brother has worked tirelessly, as have Jones and Gillian. Everyone has been doing their utmost to ensure you and Lady Dunstable have recovered.”
There was a moment of silence as Josephine held Francine’s gaze.
“And yet, I think we have you to thank the most, Josephine.”
She turned her head and caught Lord Dunstable’s eye, her stomach tightening as he came closer. She could not look away, seeing the warmth in his eyes and finding herself unable to turn away. He put one hand on her shoulder and her heart slammed against her chest, her breathing quickening just a little.
“You are a marvel, my dear Josephine,” he said, with such tenderness that Josephine felt her face flush with heat. “You have brought my sister and my mother through the most terrible of illnesses. In time, I believe our home will return to how it once was.”
“You mean to call the servants back?” Francine asked, breaking the moment that had been steadily growing between Josephine and Lord Dunstable.
“In a day or so,” Lord Dunstable replied, his gaze lifting from Josephine and allowing her to breathe a little easier. “Once you are both stronger. We appear to be managing quite well, it seems.” His hand rose from Josephine’s shoulder and she stood at once, thinking to leave Lord Dunstable and his sister alone.
“I should return to the kitchens to prepare something to eat,” she said, seeing Francine’s eyes grow heavy. “Gillian, might you go to Lady Dunstable’s side? She wishes to sit in her seat by the fire.”
“There is no need,” Lord Dunstable said, easily. “I have helped her to her chair and she is enjoying tea and a few small biscuits I managed to unearth in the kitchen.”
