‘Fine,’ Liam growled. ‘But time is of the essence. Gregory—vinegar, water and cloths in her bedroom, and make sure that there are plenty of blankets and a bed-warmer as well.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ Gregory said, scurrying out.
‘You fetch me as soon as she is ready to be put to bed,’ Liam told the women, glancing over at Rebecca one last time.
‘Yes, my lord,’ they reassured him in unison, steering him out through the door.
‘Mrs Hardwicke,’ Lizzie called, a few moments after she’d heard Liam leave.
A groan was the only response Rebecca could manage. She tried to open her eyes, but felt a rush of tears when she did. Where was she now?
No longer in his arms, it’s cold and hard here.
‘Can you hear me? Mrs Hardwicke!’
‘Lizzie,’ she croaked, managing to open her eyes finally.
The kitchens, she saw through the blur.Why are we in the kitchens?
‘I...’
‘We need to chafe you, Mrs Hardwicke,’ Mrs Murray said gently. ‘I need you to sit for me—can you do that? We’ll help you.’
Rebecca nodded feebly, and the next moment she felt everything scream out in pain as the women pulled her up to a sitting position on the edge of the table. All the blood rushed to her head, and there was pounding unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She whimpered, swaying, and Lizzie’s hands came to rest on her shoulders for a moment. Drawing a deep breath, eyes closed again, Rebecca managed to hold steady.
Fingers began swiftly and meticulously trailing along her body, taking away every last frozen, soaked thing. Pattens, boots, stockings, coat, hat, gloves, skirts, chemise. Somewhere in the back of her mind a protest formed, but the release from the garments felt so extraordinary, nothing escaped her lips. Even as she realised what they would see, she could not stop them.
The warm, moist air felt like a blanket against her glacial, numb skin, and Rebecca found it easier to breathe. She managed to open her eyes again, just as Mrs Murray’s hands dropped to her waist and, with impressive strength, slid her forward.
She felt the hard tiles beneath her feet as the world once again blurred and dizziness swept over her. But the women steadied her again, before returning to their task. The last of the sodden garments fell to the floor, and then their hands were against her skin again.
It was a trial to stand as they began chafing her, so vigorously it seemed her skin was now on fire.
‘What were you thinking?’ Mrs Murray admonished. ‘We told you the master would see to Mrs Ffoulkes, and now see what you’ve done. Scared us all right to death.’
Mrs Murray’s voice broke, and Rebecca felt a lump of emotion in her own throat. Someone cared about her. More thansomeone, everyone here. It had been a long time since people had truly cared for her, cared what happened to her.
No matter what she did, she could not help the tears that rolled down her cheeks. Neither of the women said anything, nor acknowledged that they had witnessed her weakness. They simply rubbed every frozen inch of flesh, from her shoulders down to her toes. She managed to prise open her eyes slightly, and she saw them, like warm sprites of summer, glowing in the light of the hearth. She was relieved to note that their own eyes were thankfully full of serious purpose as they swept across her body with the interest and dedication of doctors.
They do not judge me...
Before that thought could develop, or any others could take its place, they stopped their work, set their arms under her own, holding tight about her waist, and guided her to the bath, helping her in.
‘Now, just stay in there for a while,’ Mrs Murray instructed, before disappearing.
Rebecca did as she was told, letting the warmth of the water and the fire lull her into near senselessness.
She let it soothe away her sorrow, let it soothe away her hurt, until Mrs Murray and Lizzie returned to dry and clothe her. Even then, she was barely present, her mind somewhere far away, in a land where she’d found home and could finally rest. The darkness and the heavy slumber called her again then, and she found she could resist it no longer.
The last thing she felt was a pair of strong arms lifting her up as a whisper in her ear told her it was time for bed.
Liam laid his troublesome housekeeper gently down in her bed, and tucked her in with as much care and tenderness as his mother had when he was a child. She was still pale, though a faint wash of colour had returned to her cheeks.
Had he managed to find her in time? He’d done his best, but she was not out of danger yet. If she developed a fever, if...
Sighing, Liam dropped into the chair by her side.
Waiting. That was all there was to do now. Wait. And so he would wait. She, at least, would not die on his watch.
