The Lady's Fate (The Reluctant Grooms Volume II)

by Anne Gallagher

  “Thank you, Grennan. You’ve done the right thing.” Ellis touched the man’s elbow.

  Manning appeared in the doorway holding Haverlane’s coat, hat, and gloves. “Draco is saddled and waiting in the mews, my lord.”

  “Thank you, Manning. Please find Grennan something to eat and a bed for the night,” he said as he swung the coat over his shoulders.

  “Begging your pardon, my lord, but I will come back in the carriage with the doctor if you please. I cannot leave Mrs. Jeffers alone,” Grennan said.

  “That will be fine, Grennan. Manning, send a note round to Robert. George will have to do without me.”

  “Very good, sir. Godspeed, my lord,” Manning said to his retreating back.

  Ellis pressed Draco as fast as he dared on the muddy roads. The old horse must have sensed the urgency in his master for he did not falter and kept up the gallop as if the hounds of hell were at his heels. They reached the village by nightfall. After securing John Kendrick, the blacksmith, to follow him to the Hall to care for Draco, Ellis raced to Fairhaven.

  Draco barely stopped before Ellis jumped down from the saddle and ran into the kitchen. Finding no one there, he ran through the house and up the stairs to his daughter’s room and not finding her, his heart dropped. Where was she?

  Sounds coming from the wing that belonged to him had him running down the hall. In his bedroom, he found Violet and Mrs. Jeffers hovering over Jane.

  “Oh, my lord, praise be to God in the highest, I am glad you are come,” Mrs. Jeffers wailed. Tears coursed down the old woman’s cheeks.

  Violet turned to him. Ellis could hardly believe she was the same woman he had left only four weeks ago. Violet’s eyes were sunken and tinged with dark blue circles. Grennan’s estimate of two stone was hardly accurate. It seemed more like three. Her dress hung off her shoulders. The hollows in Violet’s face held a ghostly pallor, in contrast to the bright red of her cheeks.

  Ellis took off his coat and flung it across a chair along with his hat and gloves. He moved closer to the bed. “There, there, Jeffie. The doctor is on his way.” Ellis touched her shoulder. “Let me do that. You go down and make some tea. The doctor will be arriving shortly.”

  “Yes, of course, my lord.” The old woman stood.

  Ellis patted her shoulder. “Everything will be all right Jeffie, you’ll see.”

  He moved to the other side of the bed, took the wet towel, and began to wipe his daughter down. Jane lay like a limp doll, bathed in sweat. Her hair stuck to her scalp, her eyelids wore the same blue tones as Violet. Where was his bright, cheerful daughter?

  “I am sorry, my lord. I am so very sorry,” Violet whispered while tears ran down her face. “I tried everything I dared. The others seemed to get well with the remedy my mother taught me, but it has not worked on Jane. Forgive me, please, I beg you.”

  “How long has she been thus?” An edge crept into his words.

  “Four days, my lord. I have not left her side. I have done everything I could think. Forgive me I did not want to bother you with all you must attend in Town. I thought she would be well like the others. The fever would run its course, but I see now that was foolish. I am so sorry, my lord. If she does not….”

  “Do not say it. Do not even think it. The doctor shall arrive and she will be well. You may leave us. I shall attend Jane.”

  Violet flinched as if struck.

  He had not meant the words to sound harsh. He only wanted her to get her own rest. Ellis watched her back away from the bed, head bowed, her tears unchecked. He wanted to stop her and apologize, but he could not find the words. He looked at Jane and his throat closed.

  Ellis sat on the bed and held his daughter, applying the cold compresses. Jane whimpered several times and Ellis fought back his own tears. What would he do if he lost her? He could not think that way. The doctor would arrive and she would be well. Ellis had to believe it.

  Hours passed before he heard voices in the hall. Manning, Mrs. Jeffers and Doctor Blakestock entered the room. Ellis laid his daughter gently back on the bed and stood.

  The doctor felt Jane’s forehead, throat, and listened to her breathing.

  “Your woman has told me what has been done and there is only one thing left we may try,” he said to Ellis. “Do you have a hip-tub? We shall need to place the child in a cold-water bath. I am not a proponent in bleeding children.”

  Relief flooded through Ellis.

  “We need to get the fire stoked,” the doctor continued. “We must keep this room warm, but not hot. The cool bath will help bring the fever down, but we do not want her to catch a chill on top of it.”

  “Yes, of course,” Ellis said. “Manning, help Mrs. Jeffers with the tub and water, and ask Grennan to bring up more wood for the fire.”

  Manning left the room quickly.

  “Where is Lady Violet?” Mrs. Jeffers asked before leaving.

  “I sent her to her room to rest. It seemed necessary,” Ellis said.

  “That poor child,” Mrs. Jeffers said. “She has done nothing but nurse us all through the very heart of the epidemic without fail. She has run all over the village, day and night to assist all that were afflicted. God worked his miracles through her, I have no doubt.”

  “And she has used the salix powder on them all?” Doctor Blakestock asked.

  “Oh yes, including the apothecary when he was struck. Twas the only thing that worked. And when she ran out, she went down to the stream herself to strip more bark from the willows.” Mrs. Jeffers glanced at Ellis. “I tried to send Grennan, but she refused. Said she had to use a certain bark only and she knew which ones. Poor creature, out there every day, and then in the kitchen firing it in the ovens until it was pure. I know not how she had the strength.” Mrs. Jeffers curtsied. “I shall go down now and help with the water.”

  “Fresh as you can get it,” the doctor said. “And set a pot to boil on the stove. We must use the right temperature. Shocking this child’s insides would be too much.” He placed his hand on Jane’s forehead and looked at Ellis. “Whoever this Lady Violet is, you could not have found a more competent nurse. She has done right by the child and this bath will be the last notion we can try. Then it is in God’s hands.”

  With the tub brought up, the fire stoked, and the water poured, they lowered Jane into it. She lay quiet in Ellis’ arms against the edge of the copper. Ellis ran a towel around her neck and face. At one point, she opened her eyes.

  “Imma?”

  “No, dearest, it is Papa.” Ellis choked on his tears.

  “Papa,” she murmured with a smile and closed her eyes once more. Ellis took her hand and brought it to his lips. He cradled it gently while she lay in the tub.

  Twenty minutes was all the doctor afforded the girl. They lifted her out of the tub and placed her back on the bed, wrapped her in flannel and waited. After what seemed an eternity, the doctor checked her forehead and declared the fever seemed to lessen. Another hour passed before he said he thought she was out of danger.

  “Praise be to God,” Mrs. Jeffers murmured. “I must tell Lady Violet.” She left the room.

  Ellis sat on the edge of the bed holding his daughter’s hand. He looked at the doctor. “Are you sure it has broken?”

  “Yes. The combination of the salix powder and cool bath worked. However, I am curious as to why it took so long for the powder to take effect. Perhaps Lady Violet was afraid to give too much, and therefore gave too little. I shall have to ask her.” Doctor Blakestock spoke more to himself than to Ellis.

  “Doctor!” They both heard Mrs. Jeffers cry from the hall. She appeared in the doorway wringing her hands, Mary at her side. “Doctor, please you must come, it is Lady Violet. She has succumbed.”

  Mary went to the bed and took Ellis’ place by Jane. Ellis followed Mrs. Jeffers and the doctor down the hall. Mrs. Jeffers turned into Jane’s room, where they found Violet lying on the floor in front of Lady Anne’s portrait, a crude set of beads clasped between her fingers.
A Bible lay next to her.

  Ellis scooped her up into his arms. She weighed no more than a posy of flowers, he thought. He brought her into her room and laid her gently on the bed.

  “No, please, I must finish my prayer,” Violet cried as she tried to get up. “I must ask Lady Anne for help. I know not what else to do.”

  “Shh. ‘Tis all right,” Ellis said and pushed her back down. “Jane will be well. There is no need.”

  The doctor peered into Violet’s eyes, felt her throat, and her forehead. He took up her wrist and listened to its rhythm.

  “Get a fire in here and strip those clothes off her at once,” the doctor ordered Mrs. Jeffers. “We shall also need more blankets and cold compresses. Tell me, has she been taking the powder as well?”

  “No,” Mrs. Jeffers said. “She declared she did not want to waste it on herself. She claimed she was well enough without it.”

  “Physician heal thyself,” Doctor Blakestock muttered under his breath. He felt for Violet’s pulse. “She must be cooled. She has caught the fever.”

  Ellis left the room and yelled down the stairs for Grennan and Manning. “Bring wood and cool water to Lady Violet’s room.” He ran back into the bedroom. “What about the powder? Is there any more? Do you have any, Doctor?”

  “Yes, I have some. Fetch me a clean glass of the freshest water available,” he said to Mrs. Jeffers.

  She raced from the room.

  “Take her clothes off,” Blakestock ordered Ellis. “Leave her only in her chemise.”

  Ellis unfastened the buttons at her throat and wrists, while the doctor took off her shoes and stockings. Ellis lifted her off the mattress and pushed the dress to her waist, then slid the garment over her legs. Seeing her pale skin and gaunt frame, he held onto the bedpost for balance. What had he done to her?

  Grennan brought in wood, and laid the fire. Manning held two buckets of water with clean flannel tucked under each arm. Mrs. Jeffers hovered in the doorway with the glass of water.

  Doctor Blakestock checked her pulse again, and then wiped his spectacles with his handkerchief. He felt her neck. He lifted one eyelid and peered into her eye. He rummaged in his medical bag and brought out a vial of white powder and a spoon. Taking the glass from Mrs. Jeffers, he tapped powder onto the spoon and stirred it into the glass. “We must get all this into her as quickly as possible,” he said to Ellis. “In her state, it is imperative she take the whole dose.”

  “Do not worry. I shall ensure she swallow every last drop,” Ellis said.

  The doctor handed the glass to Haverlane, then sat on the bed and propped Violet up on his chest.

  “Violet, I have medicine from the doctor you must drink. Come now, can you drink for me?” Ellis crooned.

  “The doctor,” Violet whispered.

  “Yes, the doctor has brought medicine. Take a drink now.” He put the glass to her lips.

  She took a small sip. Bit by bit, Ellis managed to get her to drink the whole glass.

  “There is nothing to do now but wait,” the doctor said. He lay her gently back down on the pillows. “She should sleep now. I shall stay with her awhile and watch the fever. Haverlane, you should attend some food.” He took the water and flannel from Manning and set it on the table next to the bed.

  “I could not eat, but as you say, perhaps a cup of tea. You will call if her condition changes,” Ellis said rising from Violet’s bedside. He hated to leave her.

  “Do not worry. She has taken the first glass.” Doctor Blakestock sat in the chair by Violet and rinsed out the flannels. He placed one on her forehead and another on her throat.

  Ellis left the room with Mrs. Jeffers, Manning, and Grennan.

  In the kitchen, Mrs. Jeffers placed a cup of tea in front of him. “Would you care for soup, my lord?”

  “Thank you, no, Jeffie. I cannot eat. Have you prepared a room for the doctor?”

  “The brown room down the hall from Lady Violet,” Mrs. Jeffers said.

  “Very good. I believe I shall alternate between Jane’s room and my own.”

  “Begging your pardon, my lord,” the old woman said. “Do you think that is wise? I should not like to see you come down with the fever. Reverend Perry has said it has run like wildfire through the village, although none have been as ill as our two girls.”

  Ellis covered her hand with his. “I shall be well Jeffie, do not fret.” He turned to his butler. “Now, Manning, what do you do here?” Ellis asked.

  “I took it upon myself to come as well, my lord. I thought you might do with my help, whatever that may be.”

  “You are always one step ahead of my own thinking,” Ellis said. “Thank you.” He sipped his tea and looked at his servants. “Pray, tell me how this came about?”

  Mrs. Jeffers explained her version of the story, beginning with the house party and ending with the fever appearing in Jane. During her recitation of the house party events, Ellis grew increasingly incensed at his mother’s selfish behaviour. If Violet had not been running herself ragged waiting on her every whim while taking care of Jane and the demands of the house as well, she would not be upstairs fighting for her life. He also laid blame at Lady Flowers’ feet. Pushing her daughter to come home to be fitted for gowns for a Season she did not want, Ellis pictured Violet shrinking from the pressure of returning to Town.

  “It just about broke Lady Violet’s heart when she said good-bye to Lady Penelope. I never saw two young ladies make friends so quick. Bosom beaus they were,” Mrs. Jeffers said.

  “Penny was here as well?” Ellis asked astonished.

  “Aye, and a good thing too,” Grennan added. “Were it not for Lady Penelope, I fear Lady Violet would have stayed in her room and cried the whole day long. Twas bad enough she cried after….”

  “Grennan!” Mrs. Jeffers shook her head.

  “After what?” Ellis asked.

  “Well, beggin’ your pardon, my lord, but after you left was when Lady Violet began to go downhill. And when the duchess showed up with the rest of ‘em, well, Lady Violet seemed to sink lower and lower,” Grennan said.

  This was his fault calamity had struck Violet and the thought made him shudder. Ellis stood from the chair. “I shall be with Jane.”

  Haverlane lit a candle and carried it down the hall. He found Mary on the bed reading to Jane.

  “Papa, you come see me.” Jane held out her arms.

  Ellis reached for her and pulled her into his arms. “Oh, my dearest girl,” he said. He held her and silently thanked Anne for looking over their daughter.

  An hour later, after Jane had fallen asleep, he left her with Mary and went to check on Violet.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ellis walked down the hall to Violet’s room and heard her moaning.

  Violet lay on the bed soaking wet and thrashing at Mrs. Jeffers who tried to hold a compress to her forehead.

  “Where is Doctor Blakestock?” Ellis asked.

  “I bade him go down and have some meat pie. T’will be a long night, my lord.”

  Ellis moved closer to the bed. His throat constricted and he brought his fingers to the corner of his eyes. Memories of Anne’s last hours invaded his mind. He could not lose Violet in the same manner. He would not.

  “I shall sit with her, Jeffie. You look done in as well. Pray, go down and take your rest. Ask Manning to keep the fire stoked in the kitchen should we need anything.”

  Mrs. Jeffers stood and walked to the door. “In her delirium she called for you several times. She has been talking nonsense about someone taking Jane away. Once she even grabbed me and begged me not to let them take her. I’m frightened for her, my lord.”

  “Do not worry, Jeffie. All will be well.” Ellis prayed he was right.

  Mrs. Jeffers left and Ellis took up her place by Violet’s bed. Soaking the flannel in the cool water, he wrung it out and placed it on her forehead.

  Violet turned her head away. “No, no, I will not let you take her away from me,” she mumbled.

>   “Violet, listen to me. No one is taking Jane. I am here now. You are safe.”

  “Haverlane?” Violet tried to focus on his face.

  “Yes, my darling. Haverlane. I am here now, my love.”

  “No, he will be furious with me. I must find Jane,” Violet sat up, flung the covers off, and tried to push herself off the feather mattress.

  “Violet, calm down. Get back into bed.” Haverlane made it to her side just as she fell. He picked her up and laid her back on the bed.

  Tears ran down her face while she fought him. “No, I must find Jane. She is unwell. I must take care of her.”

  “Jane is fine, dearest. I am here now. I shall take care of her. And you.” He pressed the compress to her forehead.

  “Where is Haverlane? I must find him. I must tell him.” Violet grabbed his hand.

  “I am here, dearest. I am here. You do not need to tell me. I already know.”

  “Please, Grennan, you must find her. Find Jane. Find Jane and bring her to me.”

  “Jane is sleeping, dearest. You must rest. The doctor is here now.” He placed his hand on her burning cheek.

  “The doctor? We must find a doctor for Jane,” Violet mumbled and turned her face into the palm of his hand. “Please Grennan, find a doctor. I cannot lose her. Haverlane will never forgive me.”

  Ellis made shushing sounds and Violet calmed. Her face seemed on fire. He rinsed the flannel and wrung it out again, this time placing it on her chest. He took another cloth, and placed that on her forehead. Her breathing came hard and rasping.

  Fitful, Violet woke several times, always looking for Jane. After Ellis reassured her Jane was well, Violet would return to an uneasy sleep. Once, she sat straight up in bed and looked at him, eyes wide.

  “My lord, what do you do here in my bedchamber?” she asked.

  “I am taking care of you, dearest.” Ellis took her hand and rubbed her palm, feeling the calluses that he must also lay claim to.