Mystified

by Renee Bernard

  Which meant all her father’s entreaties to get the woman to stay off her feet for a while and heal properly had been entirely ignored for months and months.

  She reached the main courtyard of the inn just as a beautifully appointed Brougham carriage with polished brass lanterns arrived to cause a choreographed flurry of groomsmen to come out and for Mr. Thackery to step into his doorway with a proud expression on his face. The carriage had a footman in full livery and a coachman to attend their employer and Elethea slowed her steps out of curiosity to see what grand lady or gentleman would alight from the carriage’s interior.

  A tall handsome young gentleman began to step out without taking his footman’s arm and before he fell, Elethea knew he would. His color was wrong, too pale but for the stripes of flushed heat on his cheeks, a sheen of sweat on his brow and the wild look in his eyes as if he were being pushed out to face a firing squad and not the friendly yard of a country inn.

  She began to move toward him without hesitation and overheard him tell the footman that he was never ill only to collapse at the man’s feet.

  “Mr. Hambly! Mr. Hambly!” The footman knelt to try to spare his employer’s dignity, but his distress was making a mess of it. The coachman jumped from his perch and all the men were rushing to encircle the poor elegant soul in the mud.

  Elethea was by his side long before the circle closed to take command.

  “Mr. Thackery, help me to get him inside. A private room where he can be attended, if you please.”

  “Yes, Miss Fairfax! Jules help me there!” The men shifted to lift him up and began to carry him out of the weather. Thackery was shaking his head. “God, let it not be a catching thing! Please God, not a catching thing!”

  “Hush, Mr. Thackery,” Elethea said. “You mustn’t alarm your guests if there is no cause and we’ll send for my father to get all sorted but for now, we must get him comfortable.” She looked to the footman who had the gentleman’s feet. “This is Mr. Hambly?”

  “Yes, miss. Heir presumptive and next Earl of Banfield, out from his estates at—”

  She cut off his rambling introduction with a smile. “This is Bocka Morrow. We are very familiar with your master’s position and the courtesies he is due but if you care for him at all, then see that you assist us in getting him up out of the mud and inside to get dry and warm, sir.”

  “Y-yes, of course.” The men shifted to do as she’d asked with an urgency that betrayed their concern for poor Mr. Hambly. The gentleman was lifted from the muck and Mr. Thackery led the way inside with Elethea taking up the rear, bypassing the main common room and guiding them to the best room on his first floor. The narrow stairs provided a small impediment and Elethea caught his head to hold him steady as she warily eyed the solid bannister and feared for the gentleman’s skull.

  His hair was a riot of soft dark curls but Elethea frowned as the heat of his head radiated against her palms as if she were trying to cradle something drafted from a fireplace. A high fever and nowhere near breaking…poor thing.

  As they crossed the threshold to the room, things began to happen very quickly. The gentleman was laid as he was across the bed and Elethea had to sigh at the impulsive action that demonstrated their lack of forethought as his muddy clothes soiled the coverlet.

  “I’ll send Ben for Dr. Fairfax! Is your father at the house?”

  “No, he’s at the Carrols. Send Ben to my father there and see if he can come. Until he arrives, let’s do what we can for Mr. Hambly.” Elethea surveyed the room while Mr. Thackery stepped into the doorway to yell for Ben and set things in motion. It was definitely the inn’s finest in honor of the man’s high status but she wasn’t assessing it for its aesthetics or the fine view it afforded of the hillsides and the sea. It was snug and not too drafty. It had a small fireplace and the bed was a good size to be comfortable for her patient.

  “Ben’s off, good lad,” Mr. Thackery announced as he returned to the room’s interior. “He’s as fast as a whippet that one so there’s a comfort. What do you need, Miss Fairfax?”

  “I have my medicine bag, thank goodness, but if there is still chamomile growing in your garden, or mint, I won’t complain if it’s offered. Help me get him to bed. Then I’ll need a good fire in the fireplace, fresh linens and a kettle of water to make a tonic. Oh, and sea salt! May…may I borrow an apron, Mr. Thackery?”

  “Of course! And should I fetch Mrs. Thackery’s remedy box? I think she’s got a few helpful herbs and poultice mixtures on hand,”Mr. Thackery said quickly.

  “That would be very helpful. Thank you, Mr. Thackery. Now, please. We need to get him out of these soaked layers and see to his comfort to—”

  “Wait!” The footman stepped forward, his cheeks turning the ruddy color of clay. “I’m not sure this is…altogether proper. Should we not wait for a physician or a…rather than expose this young lady to…anything…unseemly?”

  Mr. Jolly Thackery’s shoulders stiffened and his chin came up before Elethea could compose an answer of her own. “No better healer in the county than Miss Fairfax, begging your pardon and as her father is the proper doctor you’re squawking for and as we’ve just sent Ben after him, I’d say there is nothing more proper than getting your man out of his wet and muddy clothes and hell, get his boots off so we can get him truly into bed to regain his senses or are you suggesting we fold our hands and leave you to it there?”

  Elethea reached out to touch Jolly’s shoulder, the gentle contact enough to halt his tirade. “Please, I’m sure this kind man spoke only from concern for his master and, of course,” she said softly and favored the footman with a smile, “out of concern for me to defend my reputation. Is that not so?”

  “Yes, Miss. I meant no offense.”

  “And none was taken. If someone will fetch Mr. Hambly’s baggage, we’ll have something dry and warm to put him in and of course, when the moment comes to preserve the gentleman’s dignity and my own, I will step outside into the hallway. And I wonder if someone must also alert the family at Keyvnor of Mr. Hambly’s plight. They will be worried at his delayed arrival and we must reassure them that he is in good hands and that a doctor has been called.”

  “I can go! The horses are changed out and I’ll bring his bags up to leave here.” The young footman’s relief at an assigned task was obvious.

  Elethea nodded. “It would be a great service to all. I thank you.”

  The footman was gone in a blink, the driver immediately behind him and Jolly shook his head. “Well, that’s for the good.”

  “Here, help me, Mr. Thackery.”

  Their attention focused completely where it was needed most. True to her word, once they’d removed his boots and coat and as much as maidenly modesty allowed, she shifted out the door to follow up on the kettle of water and ensure that someone had arranged for more firewood. She found an apron and then directed the maid with Mr. Hambly’s bags up the stairs.

  Finally, back inside the room, Jolly had the fire blazing and was preparing to make his own retreat. For all his manly bluster and bravado, Jolly Thackery had a healthy mortal fear of illness and no desire to linger in a sick room. “If it’s…a contagious thing, you’ll let me know straight away, yes? As soon as you’re able, yes, Miss Fairfax?”

  “Of course, Mr. Thackery. But to be safe until it’s sorted, send no maids and see that we keep himself to himself. I’ll stay to act as nurse and all will be well.”

  “My wife is sure to fret!”

  “She may fret as much as she likes, but she’s to stay well out of it and off her feet today. I’ll mix up the special poultice I promised her and send it down for her comfort.”

  “You’re an angel, Miss.” Jolly glanced at the unconscious man in the bed. “God help him—that family don’t need a thimble-full more of misery before they all drown.”

  “Hush! Such talk! Off with you, Mr. Thackery. Please show Father up the instant he arrives.”

  “Yes, yes, I will!” He left in a relieved rush and a
t last, the door was shut tight behind him and she was alone with Blade Hambly.

  Elethea went to him quickly, assessing his temperature with the back of her hand then with her fingertips as she dragged them gently across his forehead. It was a dry, feverish brow and her concern mounted.

  “It must break, Mr. Hambly. The fever should draw from you in a sweat, sir,” she told him respectfully as if he were awake and with her. “If it were an infection or a wound…”

  She took a deep breath and began a more thorough inspection of him, seeking a cause for his illness or additional signs of his ailment. She swept his hair aside and eyed his throat and shoulders, then his bare chest for any marks or boils. A fiery red rash fanned up from his chest to his throat and Elethea’s breath caught in her throat.

  Scarlet fever…merciful Goddess, no!

  His skin was flushed as if from a cauldron within him and if her study yielded anything else it was merely proof that the footman wasn’t the only one capable of blushing or worrying about how inappropriate her circumstances might be. Elethea did her best to give a matronly and firm internal lecture to any hints of mounting terror nibbling at her thoughts.

  Stop acting like a silly girl and draw up your resolve, Ella Fairfax! It’s an intimate war, this. For you must keep the rest of them out of this room and well out of it if you can, so this is not the time to fuss about how much of the dear man you are getting to see…

  Elethea’s resolve hardened to steel. “We’ve no time for sighs, Mr. Hambly. I’m sure you are spoiled with them and with ladies who are foolish enough to be distracted by how pretty you are, but I am no such girl.” Speaking aloud made her feel better and reminded her of her purpose. “I am a healer. I have made a private study of my Father’s profession but I shall confide to you a great secret that I am also a true daughter skilled in the Craft and the Old Ways. All that aside, if I mean to sigh at how handsome you are, I shall do it in quiet privacy at a much later time, sir, but now we shall see you back to health.”

  She stood to gather some cold water to make compresses and then sat back next to him, cleaning his face and trying to cool his skin. The small gesture of comfort gave her time to gather her thoughts and formulate her battle plan. No good ever came from panicked hurry, so Elethea used the calm cadence of her breathing to set the pace of her movements and to ground her fears. She leaned over to press her ear against his bare chest, listening to his heart and to his breathing. His lungs sounded clear enough and his heart was strong, though the pace of its beat was too hurried for her comfort.

  It beats as if he seeks to outrun this…

  “All right, Mr. Hambly. The fever is the enemy, true enough, but we shall draw him out onto the battlefield and slay him together, all right?” Elethea replaced the cold cloth. “I suspect that fever has just gotten a foothold and caught you by surprise, didn’t it? Men who are never ill are easy prey but let’s send it off and get you back on your path.”

  Elethea smiled. Fevers were not of course, animated creatures but it served her imagination well to pretend that it was and to divert her mind as she spoke to Mr. Hambly. Sweating fevers had carried off more souls than she wished to number. Her plan fell into place. She’d force the fever to pitch to sweat out the poisons, give him herbal tea and what remedies she could brew all the while to fuel his strength and then before the crisis, she would cool him off as best she could and force him back to the land of the living.

  She went back to the door and called out to Mr. Thackery who was returning with his wife’s remedy box, fresh linens and extra candles as promised along with a handful of roughly picked weeds in his other hand.

  “Mr. Thackery,” she said as calmly as she could. “Just set the things there and listen to me carefully.”

  “Oh, God,” Mr. Thackery said. “It’s the plague, ain’t it?”

  “Not the plague but catching yes. Scarlet fever. I’ll manage him alone until Father comes. Can you put a bucket of salt water and cleaning supplies outside the door? I’ll want to wash the walls and floors when I can. Anything you bring—set it outside the door and knock, and be on your way. But not Ben. Not any of the maids. Just you, if you can. Agreed?”

  “Agreed! Oh, God…” Mr. Thackery rubbed his forehead as he stepped back to keep a healthy distance. “I’m thanking the powers that you were on hand, Miss Fairfax! But I’m afearing for you in there…”

  She shook her head and forced a bright smile. “I caught scarlet fever when I was ten and am none the worse for it, yes? What’s to fear? I am as hale as oaks and far too stubborn, as you know.”

  He smiled. “You are that. I’ll leave you to it then. Call out at a shout if you need anything else and I’ll come.”

  Elethea pulled everything inside and closed the door behind her quickly. One glance at the bed told her that the fever was starting to grow as the man in the bed began to thrash a bit and fight against the bedclothes. She rolled up her sleeves and went to him to sit next to him as she unpacked her supplies and readied her potions. Elethea added another coverlet around him, gently wrestling it over his shoulders.

  His eyes fluttered open to reveal a startling blue color that she had not guessed at but she knew instantly that his intense gaze was looking through her at the shadow realm of fevers and nightmares.

  “The stones are too many,” he whispered. “Too many to count.”

  “Like stars,” she said. “A number we are not meant to know, Mr. Hambly. There now. Do not trouble yourself to count them.”

  “I have to take care of them…I have to protect them…don’t I? The stones…need someone to…the castle cannot fall. I cannot fail the…stones…family…ghosts…” He reached up to grip her upper arm with one of his hands, his hold firm but not enough to be cruel. It was the hold of a man desperate not to fall. “I can’t hold them…by myself…It’s crumbling!”

  A lump formed in her throat at the raw emotion in his face. She touched his face with her cool fingertips and he calmed, his grip lessening. “I’ll help you then. We’ll hold them together and keep all safe, yes?”

  “And you’ll tell me the number.”

  “And I will tell you the number but only once we’ve put the fire out. Do you feel it?”

  He nodded solemnly, his gaze meeting hers full of trust but without recognition.

  “We must put out the fire. It is a wicked fire but we have the power to end it,” she said.

  “I’m cursed,” he whispered, a man in earnest terror.

  “No, surely not,” Elethea replied and covered his hands with hers. “I will not allow it.”

  “Promise?”

  “The stones of the Castle Keyvnor are black because they have survived the forge of the titans of the earth, Mr. Hambly. Did you know that? Fire made them stronger and you will be all the stronger for this test, yes?”

  “Yes.” He started to pull from her, as if he would sit up. “I am expected…no time for angels. Angels shouldn’t be so pretty. Very distracting.”

  Her heart sped up foolishly at the incoherent compliment. It was the first one she had ever received from a gentleman and one he would never have given her in his right mind.

  Even so, I shall accept and hold it tight, won’t I?

  “Mr. Hambly, you must stay still and rest.” Elethea quickly thwarted his efforts to shift from the bed by lifting his arms to deprive him of leverage. It was a nurse’s trick since he was far too strong to wrestle directly and in his delirium, beyond reason. “You must stay still to count, Mr. Hambly. All right?”

  “Yes. I lost track… It is your fault for being so beautiful. But I shall start over.”

  He closed his eyes and slipped back into a restless slumber and Elethea took advantage of the moment to pull the kettle and add her herbs to start brewing. She added cold water to the bowl of cloths and set them aside on the table, then began to clean whatever surfaces she could to tidy the space and banish chaos. All the while she kept a close eye on him and marveled that her one and only introducti
on to the next Earl of Banfield should be so strange—and sadly perfect.

  Perhaps this is what Gran meant? She did say something about securing the future for the family and what clearer holder of that future than the heir? If I can save him…

  If.

  Father will be here very soon so I shall just do all I can and then we must leave it to the Fates.

  Elethea made a sign over her heart and then over his. “We yield to fate, Mr. Hambly, but not without a fight.”

  And not without leaving a piece of ourselves on the field…

  She leaned over to draw up the covers again and without thinking of it, began to sing to him.

  Chapter 4

  Blade could feel the fire that licked at the stones of Castle Keyvnor at his back but he dared not turn around. Terror at the threat was strange, coming in waves tinged with shame and an aching emptiness that made no sense but heightened his misery all the same.

  I’m burning to death.

  Am I?

  He could hear an ocean, waves stroking a beach somewhere and that gave him pause. Black blocked and chiseled stones floated in mid-air and he was moving among them, pushing them aside effortlessly as a man would walk through a field with dandelion seeds drifting on the wind.

  I should know the number. Is not every stone part of…I’m to guard the legacy and protect…everyone who lives in…

  The name escaped him for a moment but the fire drove him forward. It was harder and harder to lift his feet from the ground and Blade looked down to see why the grass had begun to clutch at his ankles.

  No grass. Black mud. Getting deeper.

  Now there was panic. A strangling dark fear that if he couldn’t move the fire would catch him, consume him and all would be lost.

  She.

  Every frantic thread of the moment was pulled taut and then froze into place. The fire, the mud, the stones—all held their places and Blade nearly cried out in relief and surprise at the reprieve.