by Robert Thier
‘Oh. Well, um…’ He shifted from one foot to another. ‘Then may I have a word with you? I heard the doctor was here, and…’
He didn’t have to say any more. The desperation in his eyes spoke volumes. Volumes of touching, if not particularly original, romantic poetry about red roses, blue violets and words starting with ‘L’.
‘I can’t tell you what they talked about.’ Gently taking him by the arm, I tried to lead him away—but he wouldn’t budge. ‘You know that such things are confidential. Just between a doctor and his patient.’
‘And you, apparently.’
Yes, but I’m a nosy busybody.
‘I’m her sister.’
‘And I’m the man who loves her more than life itself. Please, Miss Linton.’ Grabbing my hand, he moved forward. For a moment, I was puzzled as to what he was up to—then watched aghast, as he sank to his knees. ‘Please. I don’t need any details. I don’t care about confidentialities. I just want to know if she is going to be all right. Please.’
‘Get up!’ I hissed, self-consciously glancing down the corridor.
‘No. Not until you’ve answered.’
‘What if someone comes? It bloody looks as if you’re proposing to me!’
A weak smile tugged on one corner of his lips. ‘Sounds to me like a good motivation to answer.’
The devious little…! Maybe I had underestimated Ella’s prospective bridegroom. But the poor fool didn’t reckon with the lion lurking in the shadows. If Mr Ambrose somehow got wind of this little scene, which, with his army of spies, I wouldn’t put past him, Edmund Conway would be tied up and on a ship to Timbuktu before he could say, ‘Je ne parlais pas Francais.’
I had to do something. And quick!
‘Get up! Get up I said!’
He didn’t move.
‘I’ll tell you what’s wrong with her, all right? Just get up off the floor!’
‘You will?’ He jumped to his feet eagerly.
‘Yes, um…’ I cleared my throat, desperately trying to search my mind for something to say. ‘The reason I was reluctant to mention anything about Ella is…is…’
…that she is in deep, deep crap right now, too literally to think about. That she might die, and she doesn’t want to hurt you.
‘…is that it’s something rather delicate. A, um…female complaint.’
He blinked. ‘Female complaint? So she’s not suffering from the epidemic that has been rampaging through London?’
‘Oh, no!’ If by ‘no’ you mean ‘yes’. ‘She’s suffering from something completely different. A female nervous disorder named…what did the doctor call it again… Potius Stercoritis.’[50]
Edmund’s eyes went wide. ‘Oh my God! Is it dangerous?’
‘Oh, no, not at all!’
And I should know. After all, I invented it just now.
‘But it is very exhausting and requires the strictest rest. Otherwise, it could turn into Egoiacentemexcogitatositis, and that is deadly.’ [51]
Edmund paled. ‘Heaven help us!’
‘Don’t worry. There are a number of things we can do to prevent that from happening.’
‘What? What, tell me!’
‘Well, on doctor’s orders, Ella must be visited by as few people as possible—preferably close female relatives. They are least likely to disturb the delicate balance of humours and aggravate the Potius Stercoritis.’[52]
‘Certainly, certainly.’ He nodded eagerly. ‘I’ll keep my distance. I promise. What else? Please, Miss Linton, let me help! I’ll do anything!’
‘Um, well…the doctor said…the doctor said that carrots would help.’
‘Carrots?’
I nodded energetically. ‘Oh yes. When peeled, they give off a certain aroma that is particularly beneficial for anybody suffering from Potius Stercoritis.’
‘Wonderful! Tell me more! What else did the doctor say?’
Bloody hell! Why did this fellow have to be so damn steadfast, persistent and concerned for my sister’s well-being? Why couldn’t he be a witless fool, or a heartless bastard just like all the other men who had tried to marry her? That would make this situation so much easier to deal with.
Desperately, I looked from right to left, searching for anything sensible to say. To my left hung a painting of a decorative ocean scene, showing two fishing boats sailing into a harbour. ‘Err…ship planks!’
‘Pardon?’
Edmund blinked.
‘Ship planks,’ I repeated, more confidently. ‘Preferably old and worm-eaten. Stuck under the pillow they are an excellent cure against Potius Stercoritis. And so is seaweed, if applied externally in moderate quantities and mixed with lugworms.’
‘Really?’ Edmund stared into empty air for a moment, then blinked. ‘Lugworms? Amazing what kind of advances modern medicine makes nowadays. I would have never considered using those as medicine.’
Congratulations. You are a moderately sane person.
‘Don’t you worry.’ Taking my hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘I’ll take care of it. And I won’t try to come in again. I won’t disturb Ella unnecessarily. I would never do anything to jeopardize her health.’
Then he whirled and hurried down the corridor.
‘Where are you going?’ I called after him.
‘I’ll be back!’ he yelled, and without another word disappeared around the corner. I stared after him, confused. Where was he off to?
Oh well, it wasn’t really any of my business. Besides, I had more important things to care about. Turning away, I went back into Ella’s room.
‘How did things go?’ Ella croaked.
I looked at her, long and hard.
‘A lot better than I think they’re going to go from here on out.’
Over the day, Ella’s condition rapidly deteriorated. The doctor was called back, and when he left the room this time, there was no mistaking the grim expression on his face.
‘I’m afraid there’s no doubt this time,’ he said. ‘It’s cholera.’
I clawed at my dress to keep my hands from shaking. ‘What can we do?’
‘Not much, I’m afraid. Make sure to give her plenty of water. If you don’t, she’ll dry up and die as if she is stranded in the middle of a desert.’
‘What else?’ I took a step forward. ‘Please, doctor, there must be more I can do!’
‘Well…’ He hesitated. ‘My colleague, Dr Lindstrom, has had not inconsiderable success with adding sugar and salt to water in equal quantities. According to him, it does not cure the sickness, but it does lessen the likeliness of death. The hypothesis hasn’t yet been subjected to clinical trial, though.’
‘Can it hurt?’
‘No.’
‘Then I’ll do it. What else?’
Sadly, he shook his head. ‘There is nothing else, Miss Linton. As yet, the origins of cholera are a mystery to modern science. As long as we don’t know what causes it, we have no way of combatting the disease.’
In the back of my mind, I wondered what Mr Ambrose would say to making a sizable donation to medical research. Maybe I had better wait with that suggestion till after the wedding.
‘And what,’ I asked, my mouth going dry, ‘about the risk of infection?’
The doctor glanced down at the gloves he was wearing.
‘Well, Miss Linton…are you the one who has been taking care of your sister?’
‘I am.’
‘Then maybe you should not get close to anybody over the next few days. Just to be sure.’
Translation: he didn’t have a clue how the sickness spread. Inside my chest, a cold vice clamped tight around my heart. I hadn’t thought I would feel afraid. Not when it was my sister’s life at stake. In the past, I wouldn’t have hesitated an instant to put my life on the line for Ella.
A picture of Mr Ambrose’s hard face appeared in front of my inner eye.
In the past, you didn’t have nearly as much to lose.
Edmund mostly refused to budge from Ella’s do
or. He didn’t say a word about going in, didn’t once try to disturb her, but he sat out there like a house-trained little dragon in front of the entrance to his personal horde. Every so often I’d catch him throw longing glances at the door. It was almost enough to make me want to let him inside—except I couldn’t. I had promised Ella I wouldn’t. And besides, if what the doctor had hinted about the risk of infection was true, it was best for him to stay far, far away from Ella, or her heart might be just as broken has her body soon.
The same goes for you, Lilly. You should be nowhere near her.
The voice of reason in my head was loud and clear. It sounded very much like Ella. She took every opportunity to tell me to go and leave her to suffer in misery.
‘You’re still healthy,’ she croaked, convulsing as a tremor shook her body. ‘Th-there is no reason for you to fall sick, too. Go! It’s only reasonable.’
‘Is that so?’ I enquired, dipping a cloth in cold water and wiping her forehead. ‘Well, then I guess it’s fortunate that I’ve never been very reasonable.’
‘Lilly! I’m serious.’
‘Too bad. I could use a good joke right about now.’
‘I don’t want you to catch this,’ Ella whispered, reaching out for my hand—then abruptly drawing her fingers back. ‘It’s not right. You have your whole life in front of you.’
‘Really? I must be careful I don’t trip over it.’
‘Besides, the things you have to do to care for me…’ Ella blushed. ‘It’s not right!’
I shrugged. ‘I’ve cleaned you up before.’
‘That’s when I was three and we were potty training!’
‘And to think you still haven’t gotten the hang of it. You really are a slow learner, aren’t you?’
I wasn’t entirely sure how I was still able to joke right now. I only knew that I had to. If I stopped, I would think about what was happening, and I would fall apart. Besides, if anything kept Ella’s mind off the pain she had to be suffering, it was worth it. Even if I annoyed the heck out of her.
‘Lill?’
‘Yes?’
I was waiting for another protest or plea for me to leave. Instead, just words came.
‘Thank you.’
Glancing up, I gazed into my little sister’s eyes, and for once, they weren’t looking away in embarrassment. They were gazing straight into mine. I swallowed around the lump in my throat.
‘You’re welcome.’
‘If anything happens to me…if I don’t…you know… you’ll break it to Edmund gently, won’t you?’
I shook my head vehemently. ‘No.’
‘Lilly! Please, I—’
‘I won’t break anything to him, because nothing is going to happen to you! You’re going to pull through this, do you hear?’ Grabbing her by the chin, I forced her to look at me. ‘That boy has been camping out in front of your door practically every minute since we arrived. He’s worried so sick he’s practically sicker than you are! What do you think will happen if you die?’
Ella gave me a weak mile. ‘Are you honestly trying to guilt me into surviving?’
‘Abso-bloody-lutely, if that’s what it takes!’
‘I don’t think it works like that, Lill.’
‘It does if I say it does! Now eat your broth and concentrate on getting better!’
‘Yes, Ma’am.’
In spite of my clear orders, the stubborn girl’s condition refused to improve. By the time evening had arrived, I had changed her linens half a dozen times and was about ready to drop dead from exhaustion. And Ella…well, she looked as if she already were dead from exhaustion. Her skin was dry and cracked, her hands feeble, and even her eyes, usually shining in a blue as bright as the summer sky, had dulled to the colour of brackish water.
She’s still breathing! As long as she’s breathing, there’s hope!
But was there? A human needed other things besides air to live. Food. Water. A body that wasn’t rebelling against anything and everything.
Finally, around ten pm, Ella dropped into an uneasy sleep, and I stepped out of the room into the corridor, dragging in a deep breath. I hardly remembered what clean air smelled like. Were the people who believed that disease spread through bad air correct? If so, Ella was doing her very best to spread it. But somehow, I couldn’t quite believe that theory. If bad smells spread sickness, my Uncle Bufford’s socks should have been the origin of the world’s greatest plague. So far, my aunt hadn’t succumbed to the Black Death on laundry day.[53]
Blinking at the corridor in front of me, I frowned. I was so exhausted I hadn’t noticed at first, but…something was wrong with this picture. Where was Ella’s staunch little watchdog? Edmund had hardly moved one inch away from the door since he’d heard the doctor’s diagnosis. Had he given up already? If he’d forsaken my sister…!
Before I could even finish the thought, I heard someone quickly approaching from around the corner. A moment later, Edmund appeared at the end of the corridor, a big smile on his face and an even bigger bowl in his hands.
‘I’ve got them! I’ve got them, Miss Linton! It took me a while, but I didn’t give up! The very best quality, and peeled, too.’
‘Pardon?’
For a moment, I considered whether someone had peeled his brains out of his skull. What was he babbling about?
My confidence in Edmund’s sanity wasn’t exactly reaffirmed when, a moment later, he came to a halt in front of me and pressed a giant bowl full of carrots into my hands.
‘Err…thank you?’
‘Real beauties, aren’t they?’ he beamed. ‘I walked three miles to get the very best quality from a nearby farmers’ market.’
‘Good for you.’
‘Do you think they’ll help?’
‘Help?’
‘With the Potius Stercoritis.’
‘The wha—oh!’ It took my exhausted mind a moment or two to remember. When I did, I nearly wanted to burst out laughing. But I was far too tired. So, instead, I picked one of the carrots out of the bowl and took a bite. Hey, why not? I hadn’t had the chance to eat in a while.
‘Hm…not bad.’ I took another bite. ‘Not bad at all.’
Edmund’s smile widened. ‘Really? You think they’ll help?’
‘Definitely. You wouldn’t happen to have a ham sandwich, too, would you?’
‘Why? Could that also help against Potius Stercoritis?’
I took another bite. Who would have ever guessed carrots could be so delicious? ‘Most definitely.’
‘I’ll go get it right away!’
‘Don’t be sparing with the ham.’
‘I won’t, I promise! I’ll be back in a moment!’
Smiling, I looked after the young man as he dashed away, and then took another bite of carrot. Love was such a beautiful thing.
If it survives.
No. I couldn’t think like that, or I would break down. Ella would survive. I would survive, and then I would…
Plink.
The sound was muffled by the door, but I recognized it instantly. Forgetting all about ham sandwiches, I pulled open the door and raced across the room to the window. Pulling it open, I stuck my head out into the cool night air. Beneath me, a familiar tall, dark figure waited in the darkness.
‘Come,’ he ordered.
I felt a tug at my heart. ‘I can’t. I…I might have caught the disease. I can’t come near you until—’
‘Miss Linton?’
‘Yes?’
‘Get your derrière down here right now.’
‘I thought you had promised not to give me any more orders.’
‘That wasn’t an order,’ he said, and held out one hand. ‘Please.’
Cold, Hard Commitment
Please?
Please?
Had I heard correctly?
Most likely not. My ears were probably playing tricks on me, or some owl was testing its ability to imitate Mr Ambrose’s voice. Still, I once again felt that painful tug on my heart,
and this time, it tugged in his direction. Before I knew what I was doing, I had swung my leg over the sill and was clambering outside. The moment I reached the ground, I rushed towards him. I only came to a stop a few feet away, drinking in the sight of him like an explorer in some distant land, who’d been looking for the fountain of youth and finally reached his goal.
I’ve been waiting for this all day, I realized. This moment is what’s been keeping me going.
That realization should have worried me, probably. Up until recently, it would have scared the crap out of me to be so dependent on another person, especially a man. Now, however, I didn’t give a flying fig, because I saw the same need in his eyes.
We’re in this together.
He took a step forward.
And suddenly, the spell broke and I was brought back to reality with an uncomfortable jolt. We weren’t together. And we couldn’t be until this was over.
‘Stop!’ Quickly, I raised a hand and took a step backwards. ‘I’ve got to tell you something! The doctor was here again. He said… he said that Ella…’
‘I know,’ Mr Ambrose cut me off.
‘Then you know you can’t come any closer. If you do—’
He took another step towards me.
‘No!’ I jumped back, my eyes wide with fear. ‘Aren’t you listening? I might be infected, too! Nobody knows how the sickness is transmitted! It could be through contact, and you’d be—’
I was cut off when he grabbed me, and his lips claimed mine.
It was a kiss unlike any we’d shared before. Before, every kiss had always been about need, or want, or even love. This was none of that. This was a kiss of belonging. It screamed You are mine and I am yours, and didn’t brook any argument. Not that I felt in the mood to argue. My arms came up around him, clutching him to me with a force I hadn’t thought my tired limbs capable of. His arms enfolded me, and they didn’t feel hard and cold. They felt like coming home.
Silly girl! Do you know if he even has a home? For all you know, he sleeps on a straw mat in his office!
Well, if he did, I hoped it was broad enough for two. Because I was not letting go. I would never let go!
‘You crazy, crazy man!’ I whispered against his lips. ‘How could you do something so stupid?’
