“I have no idea. She’s not long moved here, I think.”
“What’s her name and date of birth and I’ll check for you?”
Impatience rose as the little mouse’s eyes suddenly opened. They were glazed with fever. They fluttered closed again on a moan. She was in a bad way. “Sarah McCulloch. I … I’m afraid I don’t know her date of birth.”
“Address?”
“Haven’s View Cottage.”
“Ah, yes, Ms. McCulloch just registered with us.”
Thank God. “Do you do house calls?”
“Let me put you on hold while I speak to a doctor.”
Reaching out, I pressed the back of my fingers to Sarah’s forehead and she pushed into my touch as if seeking the cool. Staying on the phone, I marched across the hall to the bathroom we’d passed and found a facecloth. After running ice-cold water over it, I squeezed it out and took it back to Sarah, where I carefully laid it over her forehead.
She seemed to sigh in her sleep. Tracing my fingers over her flushed cheeks, I murmured, “Poor little mouse.”
“Sir?”
“Ah, yes?”
“Has Sarah woken up yet?”
“She opened her eyes, but she wasn’t cognizant of her surroundings and she’s passed out again.”
“Okay. Dr. Garroway will pay a house call. He’ll be there within the next half hour.”
Relief filled me. “Excellent, thank you.”
Hanging up, I stood over the patient, uncertain what to do next.
“No,” Sarah moaned and then mumbled something I couldn’t make out. Her tone was distressed.
I leaned over the bed, pressing my palms into the pillow on either side of her head. “Little mouse, you’re okay,” I murmured in her ear.
“No, don’t. Please don’t.”
“Sarah, wherever you are, it’s not real. I’m here. You’re fine.”
Her eyes flew open, still glazed with illness, but recognition lit them. “Mr. Cavendish?” she croaked.
I smirked wryly. “I think you can safely call me Theo, little mouse.”
“D-don’t … don’t call … me … that.” Her eyes fluttered closed again, and I would have been amused if I wasn’t low-level alarmed by how bloody ill she was.
Thankfully, I only had to wait nervously by her bedside for another lengthy ten minutes before there was a knock at the door.
A tall, elderly gentleman with very long limbs stood on the other side. “I’m Dr. Garroway,” he told me in a clipped accent almost as posh as mine.
“Dr. Garroway, I’m Theo. Come in. Sarah is this way.” I closed the door behind him and gestured for him to follow.
“And you say you just discovered the patient?” he asked behind me.
“I arrived less than half an hour ago. She opened the door to me and fainted in my arms.”
I stepped aside as soon as we entered Sarah’s bedroom, and Dr. Garroway marched past to the bed.
