She smiled wanly. ‘You know I don’t like to swim in anything else…’ she panted before tailing off to groan again.
This time Phoebe gripped her hand so tightly that it made her eyes smart, yet Josephine forced herself to murmur words of encouragement. ‘That’s it, won’t be long now,’ Dr Kapoor consoled, stepping forward to count her sister’s pulse when she lay back against the pillow.
Josephine waited, momentarily reassured by his unruffled air before he turned away to speak to the nurse, which was precisely the moment that everything changed. Without warning, Phoebe uttered a sudden, strangled yell that made Josephine’s every nerve strain. Startled, she glanced back as her sister arched dramatically, her face contorting with pain, before she fell against her pillows– while a strange, dark stain grew amid her twisted sheets.
There was a moment’s silence as Josephine’s veins filled with horror. ‘Dr Kapoor…’ she whispered.
‘Outside, now! Both of you!’ Dr Kapoor ordered urgently.
The nurse didn’t even wait for Dr Kapoor to finish before ushering them from the room and closing the door. For a moment Josephine stared at the viscount’s stricken face, conscious his brother was still gently snoring, oblivious to it all.
‘If anything should happen to her…’ he whispered wanly.
‘It won’t,’ she whispered, her own problems forgotten now she was facing the loss of a most beloved sister. ‘This is Phoebe, the strongest, the bravest, the most… alive person I know!’ Her voice caught as she pressed her brother-in-law’s hands. ‘And as she would say herself,’ she added hoarsely, ‘she’s a Fairfax.’
* * *
Three days later
The spring sunshine warmed Josephine’s face as she made her way down the meadow, awash with bluebells, dandelions and wild garlic. It was like being immersed in a painted landscape and briefly, she closed her eyes, letting the pastel surroundings soothe her. It worked better than one of Dr Kapoor’s tinctures and she smiled, recalling the happy months she’d spent at Ebcott in his care. Her siblings had spent summers here too when Phoebe and the viscount had removed from town for the warmer months, and now their young voices permeated every nook and cranny. They were halcyon days she’d thought would never end, not become shadowed by an event that stilled her heart every time she thought on it.
Carefully, she allowed her thoughts to reach back over the past two nights, to the moment she thought she’d lost both her sister and the infant she carried. Pain flared instantly, tightening her chest against the fresh May air, despite her efforts to recall that both Phoebe and her new son lived.
‘Baby Alexander,’ she whispered, reaching down to brush her fingers through the long meadow grass, taking comfort from the dew that cooled her fingers. It reminded her of the circle of day and night, life and death, and she took a steadying breath.
She wasn’t maudlin, but her near loss had shaken her, and she’d never felt so mortal in her life. It was clear Dr Kapoor’s swift and skilled intervention had saved them both, yet while young Alexander was a perfect, cherubin infant with a set of lungs to match, Phoebe had yet to regain her strength.
Josephine frowned, recalling her sister’s pallor and exhaustion ever since that night. Dr Kapoor insisted she was in the right place to recuperate, yet she’d never known her so weak.
‘That you, Miss Josephine? Come to see the new chicks, I’ll bet!’
She glanced up, relieved for her thoughts to be interrupted by the querulous voice of Ebcott’s elderly gardener.
‘Yes, of course I have, Williams. How are you?’ Josephine called, hurrying towards his stooped figure at the bottom of the meadow. The last three days had been so beset with worry, some tiny carefree life sounded the perfect tonic. She smiled as she reached his familiar figure, his elderly face as wizened as the small orchard surrounding them.
‘Oh, I’m fit as an old flea, thank y’miss… and how’s the mistress now?’ he enquired as she turned to peer over the coop fence.
True to his promise, half a dozen tiny yellow balls of life peeped back at her, before darting towards their clucking mother. Contentedly, she watched the mother hen fuss around her demanding brood. Phoebe had been no less enamoured with infant Alexander, despite the trauma of his arrival, and hadn’t yet let the nurse remove him from her bedchamber.
‘She’s making slow progress, thank you, Williams,’ Josephine replied, reaching down to scoop up the nearest chick, which chirruped its protest to the world, ‘while Alexander seems as determined to embrace life as one of these little souls.’
Williams nodded, his faded blue eyes full of care. ‘I’m glad to hear it, miss. It’s no easy business bringing young’uns into the world, an’ no mistake. The master and mistress deserve many years of happiness together, not all this worry. I’m sure I wish them a whole brood of healthy chicks too, just like Betsy here.’
Josephine couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Well, Betsy has done a fine job.’ She released the tiny adventurer back inside the coop. ‘And Phoebe was always the sturdiest of us all– I pray she will be back to full health soon.’
‘Aye, as do I, miss.’ Williams smiled kindly. ‘They always say that those who work hardest to bring them into the world make the best mothers… Be you waltzing down that aisle next, miss, and I’ll make sure you have a bouquet of May-bells in your hands, if I can. They were always your favourites, and the estate woods is full of them just now.’
He turned to shuffle away, just as a thought struck Josephine.
‘Williams,’ she frowned, ‘do you know any of the domestic staff working at the bordering estate?’
‘You mean Huntingly Manor, miss?’ he replied. ‘’Bout five mile from here?’
‘That’s it,’ she replied, pan-faced. ‘The son has recently returned from the continent, I believe.’
‘Aye miss, I know the one.’ He nodded, reaching up to stroke his chin in a manner of someone thinking back over the years. ‘The old lord kept a man– Henry was his name– we was in school together, and I still see him from time to time. He was the quiet type, did what he could to look after the place, but the manor still fell into ruin while the young lord was away, of course…’
‘So, you know what happened… with the duel?’ Josephine ventured.
