Silent suffering, commendable here on the wards, was impossible to summon herself. Nora couldn’t watch Daniel wither any longer. She had todosomething. She checked the clock on the wall—half past two. The proper hour for making social calls. She could attempt a trip across town if she took a hackney. It was too cold outside to walk.
Aunt wouldn’t welcome her, but if she came with an offering… She could be meek and tractable. For Daniel’s sake.
It wouldn’t hurt to try. This was supposed to be a season of goodwill. If she failed, she’d at least know she’d done everything she could.
Still frowning, Nora went for her coat, wishing courage was as easy to don as the cloak and muffler that armored her against the December chill.
Chapter 35
Relentless cold had driven the green from the once-bright holly leaves adorning Aunt Wilcox’s door, leaving them tattered and withered like so many scraps of brown paper. They rustled when Nora knocked, and she wondered why no servant had replaced them.
Aunt Wilcox would certainly follow tradition, displaying her holiday greenery until Epiphany, but it seemed unlike her to allow it to look shabby, especially with her party approaching. The wind pushed a smattering of snowflakes against Nora’s face.
She brushed them away, pressed her hand to her temple to lessen the ache, and knocked again. She was rewarded with another long silence. Puzzling. There ought to be half a dozen servants in the house.
Perhaps Aunt Wilcox had gone to Richmond with Daniel’s parents? As outcasts, Nora and Daniel wouldn’t have been informed if she’d decamped and canceled the party. A wise choice, with the current surge in cholera cases.
Nora was about to resign and retreat when she heard footsteps approaching behind the door. It swung open, revealing a stranger, almost. This woman was as unlike Daniel’s mother as anyone could be, in a wrinkled lace-trimmed day dress adorned with tiny flecks of blood.
“Sarah?” Nora froze, taking in the sight of her exhausted mother-in-law in the huge doorway. “What’s wrong? What are you doing here?”
Sarah’s eyes closed for a moment. Nora took her hand. “Are you ill?”
“No. Not me.” She swallowed. “You got the message? Come inside.”
The dark house was draped in a perplexing silence. “Message?” Nora echoed, but her question was lost in her mother-in-law’s fussing with the bolt. “Are you alone?”
Sarah shook her head. “There’s five of us. I came for a visit two days ago, but yesterday Fenella fell ill.”
Fenella? Nora’s moment of confusion vanished in a rush. Sarah must be referring to Aunt Wilcox. Nora had never heard anyone use her first name before.
“Her doctor said it was cholera, so we sent the servants to the country house, not wanting them to contract the sickness. Only her lady’s maid stayed, and a footman and cook, but her maid, Miss Pritchard, is suffering a headache and the cook now refuses to leave the kitchen even to deliver broth—”
Nora bit her lip. Headache was often one of the first cholera signs.
“—and the footman, Charles, went hours ago to send word to Daniel and fetch Dr. Adams, but it’s been so long I’m afraid he’s absconded. He’s only been here two months. I said we should keep her butler with us, but Fenella insisted he go with the others because he has a family.”
Aunt Wilcox could have ordered everyone to wait on her hand and foot, but she’d thought of her servants first. Noracursed herself for not coming to apologize earlier. “Why didn’t you send for Daniel yesterday?”
Daniel’s mother pushed back her hair with a tired hand. “Fenella was still angry at him. But when I saw how severe it was, I ignored her and sent the footman. Hours ago. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
“There was no message. I came by chance,” Nora said, her hand naked without the familiar, encouraging handle of her doctor’s bag against her palm. “I don’t have my supplies.”
The stairs creaked as Nora followed Sarah upstairs, the shadows gathering under the unlit sconces. “So what brought you?” Sarah asked, her voice weak.
Nora grimaced. “Regret, I’m afraid. I don’t want Aunt to be angry with Daniel or me anymore. Nor you. I was a fool to try and keep secrets.”
Sarah sighed. “I should have told Daniel right away when Fenella was ill.”
“If we’d known, we’d have come instantly,” Nora insisted.
Sarah shook her head. “It happened so fast. She took ill just yesterday, I think.” She paused on the stairs and counted on her fingers as if trying to make the interminable hours of sickness fit into one night. Nora knew the feeling.
“It’s so hard to tell. We went to the refuge together, her and I. We wanted to give them a party. She had Christmas presents for all of them. They sang and gave us tea and punch, and the place was neat as a pin. But hours later, we had a message saying some were gravely ill.”
Nora’s heart sank through the soles of her shoes.
“By then, Fenella had a sore head, so we sent for her doctor.That must have been yesterday afternoon.” Sarah met Nora’s eyes as they reached the landing. Nora had no idea which bedroom belonged to Aunt. She’d never been this far inside the opulent home.
