She remembered Patience and how nothing had helped her stepmother. Swallowing her pride, Amy called Ellie.
“Ask Ben to send for Edith. Simon isn’t getting any better.”
Seventeen
Amy sat next to Simon, applying the cool, wet sponge to his burning flesh as she waited for Edith Williams. A frequent visitor at Kirkley Manor treating their childhood hurts, but also as the local midwife, Edith had delivered all of her sisters. In fact Edith had tended all the women in this house who’d died bearing children.
Amy often wondered how any of her sisters, or even she had been born, given the curse. If she gathered enough courage, she just might ask Edith. There had to be some kind of explanation.
Ellie came to the room, “How is he?”
“Hot,” Amy handed her the bucket of water. “Would you refill this?”
“Agatha said she’d spell you. You do need to sleep, you know. You won’t be any good to Simon if you get sick.” She took the bucket and started for the door.
Agatha arrived minutes later. “Let me sit with him for a time.”
“I’ll wait until our healer gets here,” Amy told her in a hushed voice.
“If you’re certain. I’ll be glad to relieve you. After all, if you don’t get some sleep you’ll sicken, and then you’ll be no good to Simon.”
Amy smiled, “Ellie said the same thing.”
Agatha patted Amy’s shoulder. “I mean it, my dear. We don’t intend for you to care for your husband all by yourself. I intend to do my part.”
Amy sighed. Agatha was well-meaning, but Amy didn’t think she could leave Simon. “I’ll nap here beside him.”
“Hurmph,” Agatha said and turned toward the door, “That’s not any kind of rest and you know it.”
“But, it will have to do for the present.”
Agatha turned around and glared at her. “Did anyone ever mention that you are a stubborn creature?”
“It was my father’s constant complaint.”
“I’ll return.” Agatha smoothed her hands down the ruffles of her skirt and left the room.
After Agatha had gone, Amy watched Simon’s bronze chest raise and fall rapidly. What had Edith said about a patient’s breathing? Nothing good, Amy decided.
Ellie arrived with the fresh bucket of water.
“Ben said to tell you Simon’s men took Harold to St. Mary’s. The authorities there weren’t keen on admitting Harold, so Simon needs to send a written message in the next day or two.”
“Did the men mention Simon was the magistrate for the area?” Amy dipped the sponge into the cold water.
“They must have, because St. Mary’s finally took him. Oh, and Dora is fine. Ben has men out looking for David and the other man who helped Harold. Not that they’ll find them. But, Ben said if Simon awoke, he’d want to know.” Ellie turned to leave. “Do you need anything else?”
Amy glanced at Simon then shook her head. She tried to keep the tension from her voice, “Just bring Edith here as soon as she arrives.”
Ellie nodded and was gone.
As the minutes crept by Amy noticed the afternoon shadows as they played against the walls of Simon’s room. She wrung her hands. Where was Edith?
Amy returned to sponging Simon down. She lowered the linen she had tucked around his waist when Ellie came into the room. Now, she lowered the cloth and stared at his naked flesh. She ran the sponge over his chest, his ribs, his waist. Once more, she soaked a cloth in the cool water and with her heart in her throat, she bathed his stomach, his lower abdomen, staring at the black curls surrounding his manhood. She had done this many times over the day and night, but every time she ran the sponge over his body, her blood raced through her veins and she had to fight for a breath. This man held her heart and if he died...
She rested her hand on his chest. It hurt to touch him with his skin so dry and hot. His fever had increased since this morning.
No sooner did she cool him off, when he began to complain about being cold. He shivered and his teeth chattered as he gave in to his chills.
“Cold. So cold.”
Amy glanced at the door. She needed Edith. Simon was no better. In fact he was worse. Fear crawled through her. He couldn’t die; he must not.
Another hour passed. Desperate, Amy called for Caro.
She demanded, “Send someone again for Edith. She should have been here hours ago. I need her.” She tried to keep the panic from her voice, but from the look on Caro’s face, Amy knew she hadn’t succeeded.
As Caro left the room, Amy heard voices from below. She recognized Edith’s voice and she sighed with relief.
Edith Williams bustled into the room, “They said his Lordship got a bullet in his side.”
Amy nodded. “He’s so hot. And he’s getting hotter. His skin is so dry. I fixed the tea like you taught me, and I’ve been cooling him with water, but he isn’t getting any cooler. In fact, I’m sure his temperature has risen.”
Edith frowned and slipped her cloak from her shoulders, depositing it in the closest chair. Amy stepped away from her post at the bed, relinquishing the care of her patient to their healer.
“I’da been here hours ago, but Molly Pritcher took her time birthing her latest youngen.”
“Molly had a baby?”
“Aye, now let’s see what we have here. Umm. When did he take the bullet?”
“Yesterday about noon time.”
Edith shook her graying head and frowned. “Shoulda come out of it a bit by now, I’m thinkin’. Tell me how you cleaned out the wound.”
Amy described what she had done. Edith nodded as Amy detailed the care she had taken.
“Well,” Edith said, “Let’s take a look. Could be a bit of cloth is still in the wound. I’ll need yer best lamps.”
Amy gasped. “We’ll have to stitch him up again.”
“Better that than fer the wound to poison. Get to it, girl.”
Amy bobbed her head. She had forgotten just how bossy Edith could be when she worked with something serious. Amy pushed the thoughts of restitching the wound to the back of her mind and hurried from the chamber to find the lamps Edith wanted.
She brought two of their best oil lamps to the sick room and stood at Edith’s side as she cut away Amy’s binding and the poultice.
“Oh-oh!” Edith exclaimed. “The whole area is red as fire. Don’t look good. Here, clean my scissors. Hold them in the flames. And, bring one of them lamps over here. That’s good. Put the one on the table, there at his head. You hold the other. And, don’t you go getting sick on me, you hear.”
Amy watched as Edith snipped at the stitches Amy had taken and eased the thread from Simon’s flesh. He stirred, groaned and tried to pull away from Edith.
“Calm him down, girl,” Edith ordered without raising her head. “You married him. Now, you settle him down.”
Amy rested her hand on his shoulder, “It’s all right. Edith and I will make it all right.”
“That’s right. Keep talkin’. I’m gonna have to probe.”
Amy winced. She could feel Simon’s pain.
“Amy,” Edith ordered when Simon started to twist and turn, “Yer gonna have to hold him down, keep him still. Get his aunt in here. She can hold that lamp.”
Amy went to the door and called for help. In seconds, Agatha was beside her.
“Aunt Agatha,” Amy hurried with introductions. “Edith needs your help while I hold Simon down.”
Agatha nodded and took the lamp from Amy. She glared at Edith, “You don’t use leeches, do you?”
Edith looked disgusted, “Don’t believe in ‘em. Drawing at the blood when a body’s already weak don’t make much sense to me. Well, ladies let’s get to it.”
Embarrassed with her task, Amy climbed onto the bed and lay next to Simon. Edith shook her head, “On him, girl. Hold his shoulders down. I don’t want him moving around. You’re not that little. I know you can hold him down for a minute or two.”
Amy nodded, swa
llowed her anxiety and lay across Simon, anchoring him to the bed. As Edith probed Simon groaned and attempted to twist away. Amy heard Edith grunt and then her satisfied sigh.
“Bit of cloth. That’s what’s caused all the trouble.” Edith laid her scissors aside and grabbed the stack of cloths Amy had arranged on the table.
“It’s bleeding good now. Time to stitch him up.”
She glanced at Amy. “When was the last time you slept, girl?”
“I--I don’t know.”
“I’ll need some brandy or whiskey for the needle and thread and you go get some rest. I’ll stay with your man. I’ll even stitch him up for you. Yer so tired you’d probably stitch him to the linens.” She chuckled at her joke.
Amy didn’t laugh. She had no intention of leaving Simon, despite what Edith said. She shook her head. “No, I’m staying here.”
“Take her with you,” Edith ordered, pointing to Agatha.
Amy shuddered. Agatha wasn’t one to take ordering about. But, Simon’s aunt surprised her.
“Come on, child.” She grabbed Amy’s arm. “Let’s get some food into you and then put you to bed. I’ll spell Edith in a bit. But, you are going to rest.”
Amy dragged her feet. “You’ll call me if there’s any change.”
“Of course,” Edith dipped the thread into the glass of brandy she’d prepared.
“No, I mean it. You must promise to wake me if there’s any change, good or--or bad.” Amy stood her ground.
“I tol’ you I would. Now get on with it. Yer dead on yer feet. If I need you, if there’s the slightest change, I’ll send someone fer you. Now, get!”
Amy took a hesitant step toward the door. Unless she wanted to do physical battle with the woman, Amy had to leave the room. She glanced back at the bed, but Edith was bent over, working on Simon and Amy couldn’t see a thing. She sighed and left him in the best care she knew.
Agatha led her through the connecting door into the mistress’s bedchamber. She hadn’t been in the room since Patience died, but she was too tired to think about any of that. Agatha sent for some milk toast and a cup of tea, and stayed with her until she ate the bread and drank half a cup of tea.
Amy hadn’t realized how tired she was until she sat on the bed. As soon as Agatha left, Amy pulled off her shoes and stretched out. She’d close her eyes for a few minutes, enough to satisfy the two women, and then she would go back to Simon.
She had no idea how long she slept. She knew she had closed her eyes and drifted off. But, only for a moment she thought. She jerked into an upright position and swung her feet to the floor. Darkness had fallen and she wondered how much time had passed. She slipped into her shoes and hurried through the connecting door.
Trying not to make a sound, she tiptoed into the master suite and gazed at the woman sitting in the chair next to Simon’s bed. She was nodding off to sleep just as Amy entered the chamber.
Amy crept to the bed and gazed at her husband. He still looked very flushed to her in the dim light. As she watched, he opened his eyes and stared at her. She read the confusion and pain in his glazed deep blue eyes. She smiled and he mumbled something about water.
Edith stirred as Amy reached for the glass on the table beside the bed.
“Ah, yer awake,” Edith stretched in her chair. “Come dawn, I’ll take my leave. He’s doing all right at the moment.”
“Will he recover?” Amy asked, her heart in her throat. She lifted his head and pressed the glass against his lips.
“It’s in the hands of the Almighty, girl. I can’t say. He’s a strong’un . He should recover, but we never know.”
Amy gasped, her heart sinking.
“You can’t leave him!” She set the glass back on the table and turned to look at Edith.
“I done all I can here,” Edith informed her. “Besides, I got others to check on. But, don’t worry. I’ll be back. He should be getting better by later today. We’ll know then.”
Amy bit her lower lip and turned back to her husband. He had to recover. The love she felt for him brought tears to her eyes and she almost choked trying to avoid shedding them. She pleaded, “You must come back soon.”
“Don’t you worry none. I’ll be back late this afternoon. Now, the horizon’s startin’ to lighten. I’m gonna leave. Keep him cooled off as much as possible. Give him that tea,” she pointed to a kettle at the edge of the hearth.
She stepped next to Amy who towered over her. She patted Amy’s arm. “Say yer prayers. With a little help from the Almighty, he’ll get better.”
Edith left and Amy sank to the side of the bed, her heart heavy with fear. Over the next hour, she begged, pleaded, and promised everything she could think of if only Simon could recover. She bathed him over and over with cool water and spooned tea into his mouth.
Agatha checked early on, then each of her sisters knocked on the door to bring Amy tea, to relieve her for a few moments, to replace the bucket of water. Even Ben came to see how Simon was doing. Amy couldn’t tell any of them how he was.
Simon twisted and turned, restless in his unconsciousness, and at times, he opened his eyes, but Amy knew he wasn’t registering anything around him. She fought her tears after each visitor left and prayed that Edith would return soon. At least with the healer beside her, Amy felt more confident.
Late that afternoon, Simon seemed to grow less restless. He appeared to really sleep for the first time since Harold had shot him. Amy waited for Edith. The healer would know if he was recovering.
It was almost time for tea when Edith arrived.
“Seen to my other duties. Now, how is our patient?” she tossed off her cloak and strode to the bed.
“I think he’s better. But, I’m not certain.”
Edith rested her hand on his head and then his chest.
“I do believe he’s cooler. His skin don’t feel as warm. Here,” she took Amy’s hand and laid it on Simon’s bare chest.
Amy shivered at the touch of his skin against her palm. She sighed and smiled a bit. “Yes, he does feel cooler.” She jerked her hand back to her side. Why did just the touch of her hand to his skin make her heart beat faster, a chill race down her spine? And, had Edith noticed?
She must not have, for she said, “Now then, order some tea while I change his dressings.”
She rolled up her shelves and went to the basin to wash her hands. “Then, we’ll see how he does.”
Amy ordered their tea while Edith worked over Simon. By the time tea arrived, Edith had finished redressing Simon’s wound. She patted the covers over him and sat down to have a cup of tea and something to eat.
Edith looked around the chamber and chuckled. “I sure do remember all the times I got the call from yer pa. Many’s the time he called on me to come take care of one of you. And, when one of you got sick, you all got sick.”
Amy smiled grimly. She had forgotten how Edith liked to talk. “Yes, you’ve been here many times.”
“I sure remember the first time I came here. It was with my ma, when yer mother birthed you. Poor thing. All she wanted was a big family. Then she caught the small-pox.”
“She had small pox?” Amy sat up straight in her chair. She always thought her mother died trying to bear another child.
“Aye, that she did. And it took her fast. Yer pa took you to Susan. She cared for you until after yer mother was buried. Then, she took care of you for a couple more months before yer pa up and married her.”
“Yes, I know,” Amy knew about that marriage.
Edith smiled. “By then my own ma had passed on. You was such a pretty little thing. Did you know I delivered both of Susan’s girls? Beth was sure a wee one, and I knew the minute Caro popped out she was gonna be tall. Lord, I ain’t never seen such a long baby.”
“What--what happened to Susan,” Amy whispered.
“Ah, Susan. Being a country girl, we all thought she could handle a pony cart, but we thought wrong. One afternoon, she took a pony cart off to the village, to vis
it with her friends. But, something scared the pony and the creature bolted. The cart hit a tree and Susan died afore they could get her home. Poor girl. Many hereabouts didn’t think she shoulda married yer pa. Thought Baron Kirkley too good for a common girl. Still, I think in his own way he did love her.”
Amy took a deep breath. She knew about Carmelita. After all, she had been in the room right before Carmelita lost her life. But she didn’t get a chance to offer her own knowledge about her second step-mother.
Simon's Brides Page 24
