“Thank you,” she forced herself to say politely. She firmly closed the door in their unabashedly craning faces and turned toward Lily. “What thedevilwere you thinking, to do such a foolish—”
Violet’s words faded into nothing at the sight of the child fast asleep atop the bedclothes, both boots off and her pelisse still on.
Shaking her head with a sigh, Violet shrugged off her own pelisse before easing Lily out of hers and crawling onto the bed beside her. There would be plenty of time to read Lily the riot act in the morning. And if there wasn’t—if Alistair ripped into the inn like a hurricane—then they both could use a little sleep beforehand.
Chapter 38
Violet awoke to earsplitting screams.Lily.
Light poured through the still-open curtains, cascading over the bare-framed bed and bathing them in the sun’s warmth. Wherever the dawn’s light touched Lily’s bare flesh, the skin pinkened and inflamed before Violet’s very eyes.
She seized the thin bed linen out from beneath Lily and threw the material atop her. Then she raced to the open window, frantically tugging the curtains closed. They were a little too short and didn’t quite meet in the center, allowing an inverted T of deadly sunlight to sear the uncurtained bed. Moth holes in the worn linen bedclothes displayed peekaboo patches of angry, blistered flesh.
Panicked, Violet upended her bundle of clothes and draped gown after gown upon the curtain rod until it began to bow under pressure. She yanked the bell pull until the cord threatened to fray, and then raced back to Lily’s side.
Slowly, nervously, she peeled the linen off the trembling child.
Fortunately, Lily still wore the dress she’d arrived in. Unfortunately, the gown lacked undersleeves and the hem hit mid-calf. The result was horrific.
The heel blisters of the night before were no longer discernible amid the bright red flesh and raw blisters covering her from shin to toe. Her arms and hands were likewise ruined, her neck and face nearly unrecognizable. Silent tears streamed down the once-white cheeks. Violet’s cheeks were just as wet.
She scanned the room for a pitcher of water. Unsure whether she was doing exactly the right but unwilling to let Lily suffer, Violet slowly poured the cool, clean water over the child’s raw skin.
When a serving girl finally answered the call, Violet shoved the empty pitcher into the astonished maid’s empty hands.
“More water,” Violet said in a tone that brooked neither arguments nor questions. “As cold as you can make it, and ice if you’ve got it. I need a doctor or a surgeon or anybody that knows anything at all about children or burns or healing ointments. And I need Mr. Waldegrave hereright bloody now.”
The maid’s eyes widened as they took in the burnt child upon the bed. “We sent the message last night. Jimmy’s young and didn’t think to wait for a response. Since the abbey ain’t sent a return message, p’raps Mr. Waldegrave is simply waiting to come at a decent hour.”
“Mr. Waldegrave will simply have to comeimmediately,” Violet said through clenched teeth. “Send Jimmy back this very second. Tell him to box the man’s ears if he has to. And hurry back with that water!”
“Yes’m. I will, ma’am.” The maid clutched the empty pitcher and scurried for the stairs.
Violet hurried back to the side of the bed and eased one hip carefully down onto the mattress. She hated to do anything that might disturb Lily, but she hated even more being right beside her and unable to help. Violet glanced up at the pile of gowns hanging haphazardly across the window and then gazed back down at the shivering, blistering child beside her.
More than anything, Violet hated being responsible for Lily’s pain. She was the one who hadn’t thought to close the curtains. She would never forgive herself for that. Ever.
“W-what happened?” Lily croaked, her eyes squeezed shut tight and her voice raw.
Violet swallowed hard. “You got burned by the sun, honey.”
Eyes still shut tight, Lily nodded once as if that much, at least, had been expected. “Are you sending me away?”
“Home, Tiger Lily,” Violet promised. “We’re both going home.”
Lily cracked open her eyes. “You’ll stay with me?”
Violet nodded, doing her best not to let Lily see her cry. “Of course.”
Lily tried to smile, then winced from the pain of having stretched her cracked flesh.
“Then it was worth it,” she whispered, clutching the folds of Violet’s gown with her injured fingers. “Please don’t leave me ever again. I love you.”
Choking back a sob, Violet jerked her face up toward the empty bar where bed curtains should have hung and blinked back tears as rapidly as she could. “I love you, too, Tiger Lily. I’m yours forever and ever.”
The poundingon Alistair’s door matched the incessant pounding in his head.
“Go away,” he shouted, burying his head beneath his pillow. If his father had suffered thus after every drinking spell, then Alistair hadn’t been missing a damn thing. “I swear I will vomit if you bring food near me again!”
