She looked up when Anne paused in the doorway.
Anne asked, “Oh, em ... Dr. Marsland already left?”
Katherine stared at her, firelight reflected in her dark eyes. “So Mamma has a new spy.... Why don’t you tell her you found him kissing me with abandon? That will give her heart a jolt.”
Embarrassment washed over Anne. “I ... It was not my idea to come down here.”
“I know, pet. We are all servants to Mamma’s will, are we not?” Katherine sighed. “Never mind. You can tell Mamma he did not overstay his welcome.”
Anne returned upstairs, feeling confused. Was Miss Fitzjohn the woman who had disappointed Dr. Marsland in the past? If so, was he again pursuing her as Lady Celia suspected? Katherine’s response left her feeling uncertain.
Either way, Miss Lotty was apparently right to doubt the physician’s interest in her, at least romantically speaking. Well, couldn’t a man and a woman simply be good friends? The faces of Ernest Finch and Jasper Paine flashed through her mind. Yes, Anne certainly hoped they could.
14
The next morning, Anne slept in a bit later than usual. When she awoke, she lay in bed for a few luxurious moments, stretching and reflecting with pleasure on her evening spent talking and dancing with Dr. Finch, even as questions about him and Rosa lingered, and despite Mr. Palling’s news.
Then, with a glance at her watch pin, she rose and set about her morning routine: counting Lady Celia’s pulse and observing any changes in her symptoms, walking Louie, retrieving Lady Celia’s breakfast, administering her morning dose of digitalis, and bolstering her with pillows to ease her breathing.
Later, she went down to the stillroom to prepare more of the juniper-and-dandelion diuretic and another batch of headache pills for Miss Fitzjohn. Finding herself almost out of willow bark, she looked in on Lady Celia once more, then put on bonnet and gloves for a quick walk to the druggist’s shop, taking Louie along for extra exercise.
When Anne returned sometime later, the housemaid met her at the side door and offered to take Louie belowstairs for water and a treat.
“Thank you, Jane.”
“Lady Celia already rang for tea while you were out,” Jane added. “But I can deliver her luncheon tray in a bit. I’ll be coming up anyway.”
“That will save me a trip. Thank you.”
Anne climbed the stairs, removing her bonnet and gloves as she did, and went through Sir Herbert’s room to stow her things on her way back to her patient.
She heard the moaning even before she opened the dressing room door. Another bad dream or something worse?
Anne threw down her things and ran to Lady Celia’s bedside. The woman groaned and sat up, twisting the bedclothes around her.
“My lady, what is it? Not more shellfish?”
“No, no fish.” She peered around the room. “Everything is yellow.” Her gaze landed on Anne. “You are yellow. Are you jaundiced?” She squinted. “And you are wearing a halo.”
Anne’s heart thudded hard, her stomach tensing in fear.
Lady Celia sank back, hand to her chest. “I feel so odd....”
Anne put her fingers on the woman’s wrist and counted. Her pulse was too slow and irregular in the bargain.
How had it happened? She had measured carefully and correctly—she knew she had.
Then why was Lady Celia showing signs of digitalis overdose?
“Rosa! Rosa!” Anne shouted.
The lady’s maid came running, no doubt hearing the frantic note in Anne’s voice. She pushed through the door. “What is it?”
“Please run and summon one or both doctors—whoever can get here the fastest.”
After a wide-eyed look toward the sufferer on the bed, the younger woman hurried away to carry out the request.
Then Anne set about doing all she knew to try in sucha case. She used a mustard-and-water emetic along with a throat feather to induce vomiting. She followed that with a course of castor oil.
