‘No, that is not the reason, and Phoebe cannot marry Elliot!’ the viscount hissed, shaking Aurelia off and taking a step forward, every line of his upper body taut in the dawn sun.
‘Miss Fairfax is engaged to the earl, Elliot! Why now?’ he challenged.
‘You know how love is, brother,’ the captain returned warily. ‘It has a habit of surprising you.’
A noise, much like a strangled growl, ripped from the viscount’s throat as he reached a punishing blow directly to his brother’s nose.
‘Stop!’ Phoebe cried as the captain staggered back, and the viscount made to follow.
‘Affecting though this display of brotherly love is,’ Thomas interjected coldly, ‘might I remind you Phoebe ismysister andmyward. There may be little care among you for family honour, but while there’s the slightest chance of retrieving?—’
Yet whatever Thomas was going to say was drowned out by a thunder of hooves, approaching at speed.
Phoebe looked up in disbelief, wondering what other possible drama could unfold in Sydney Gardens on this bright spring morning. Yet the messenger was swift enough for them all to fall silent as he dismounted, ignored their varying states of muddy undress, and made straight for Thomas.
Phoebe stared as she caught sight of her aunt’s scrawl on the letter in his hand.
How had she known where to find them?
Josephine had had the strictest instructions not to deliver the letters until she and the captain were miles away.
And then she just knew. The realisation fanned through her, like a heat and a chill all at once, before Thomas uttered the words she dreaded most.
‘It’s Josephine, Phoebe,’ he confirmed acerbically. ‘I trust you have no objection to accompanying me now.’
* * *
The journey back to Wood Lodge felt a hundred times longer than any Phoebe had ever undertaken before. And all she could think was that she’d left her sister when she needed her most, when nothing, not even her papa’s debt to the earl, came close to mattering as much.
Silently, she accepted Thomas’s furious tirade that she was the most selfish and disgraceful sister alive, but her thoughts were elsewhere entirely, thinking back over the past few weeks and the way Josephine had slowly deteriorated.
‘The air and waters have done nothing for her! I think we should take her home.’
Sophie had said it, and Phoebe had been so wrapped up in her own problems she hadn’t done anything about it – and now, she might be too late altogether.
Guilt bled through her as she recalled her sister’s cough when she’d left the house earlier that morning. Her aunt’s letter had outlined Josephine’s feverish condition, and said that Dr Kapoor was already in attendance, but Phoebe also knew her sister was much weaker than before.
How could she have left her at all?
She raced up the stairwell in her riding jacket and pantalettes, taking the steps two at a time, until a figure appeared in the shadows at the top.
‘Phoebe!’
She pulled up at the betrayal in her sister’s tone.
‘Or should I call you, Mrs Captain Damerel?’
‘Sophie…’ she began, faltering. She had so much explaining to do, but it would have to wait for now. ‘Read me all the lectures you want afterwards, but for now, please, let me come to Jo.’
Whether it was the plea in her voice, or their sister’s condition, Sophie let her pass.
She entered Josephine’s bedchamber quietly. It was already thick with the scent of thorn apple, and she was propped up against numerous pillows with Dr Kapoor in calm attendance, but one glance was enough for Phoebe to know the seriousness of the situation. Her sister’s skin looked translucent in the late morning light, while her breath was shallow and laboured. Phoebe flew to her side, noticing the empty laudanum bottle on the bedside table as she took her pale hand.
‘How has it come to this so swiftly?’ she asked Dr Kapoor, yanking off her muddied jacket. ‘I overheard a cough early this morning, but she otherwise seemed settled.’
Dr Kapoor looked up, while Sophie scowled from the doorway.
‘In my limited experience, lung spasms are more severe in those who are being treated with laudanum,’ he returned quietly. He nodded towards the offending bottle. ‘While it is a favoured remedy among many of the medical profession, my personal research has discovered it to be of dubious benefit. It will calm symptoms, but also weaken a patient over time.’
