‘The fever will kill her if she is layered up with so much heat. In the place where I was born, I was taught that to bring a fever down you must keep the patient cool. Mrs. Mead, can you take a cloth and help me to sponge her? I’m sorry, Lord Somerton, but could I ask you to leave?’
Sebastian rose to his feet and, with a last glance at them both from the door, he left the room, pushing his brother before him.
The two women worked on the girl through the night, taking it in turns to bathe her with cold water and beneath their gentle hands, Connie fretted and shivered in the soon sodden, blood-specked sheets. As the first grey streaks of dawn began to lighten the sky, they ceased their ministrations.
Mrs. Mead changed the girl’s sheets and nightdress and, as she pulled the bedding up, she looked at Isabel, her face puckered with concern.
‘My lady, I’m sure you mean well, but it doesn’t seem to have made a blind bit of difference.’
Isabel looked down at the girl, who had fallen into a fitful sleep, and for the first time, a qualm of fear at her high-handed disregard of the doctor’s instructions gripped her.
‘It’s a new day, and she is still alive, Mrs. Mead. That is as much as we can hope for.’
Mrs. Mead’s lip trembled. ‘I hope you’re right, my lady.’ Shestooped and stroked Connie’s face. ‘She’s as dear to me as my own darling could be. It would break my heart to lose her.’
She stood up with a grimace and straightened her crumpled apron. ‘Now you must be all done in after travelling all day and then sitting up all night. The bed’s made up next door. Go and get some rest... my lady.’ Two spots of colour appeared in her wan cheeks as she remembered this woman’s status.
Isabel smiled. ‘I will do just that. Wake me at midday and I shall sit with her while you rest.’
In the little bedchamber she barely had the energy to strip down to her chemise before falling gratefully into the soft embrace of the mattress.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Isabel woke to the clattering of pans downstairs. She washed and dressed in a clean gown and made her way down the narrow, uneven stairs to the kitchen.
To her surprise, she found Sebastian in his shirtsleeves with no neckcloth, apparently engaged in preparing a meal. Seeing her, he reached for his jacket, pulling it on.
‘Please excuse my state of undress,’ he said.
She shook her head, and it was on her lips to remark that she had seen him in a greater state of undress on at least two occasions, but refrained.
He clattered around the kitchen with a confident familiarity, setting out a rough lunch of soup, cheese, and bread.
‘I’m sorry it’s such plain fare,’ he said with a smile, the lines in the corners of his eyes crinkling.
Despite the circumstances that had led to them being in Little Benning, for the first time in their acquaintance, he seemed relaxed and confident.
Isabel shook her head. ‘It’s perfect. Where’s Mrs. Mead?’
‘Still sitting with Connie. Now you’re up, I will send her to her bed.’ He waved a hand at the table. ‘Please help yourself. There is no one here to serve you.’
Her stomach growled, and she tucked in gratefully to the simple fare.
‘And how is Connie?’ Isabel found herself unconsciously using the girl’s diminutive name.
Sebastian shrugged. ‘I sat with her a little this morning. She was sleeping.’ He sighed and she caught the shadow of a rueful smile. ‘She’s still with us and that’s what’s important.’
‘And Matthew?’ she asked, looking around the room.
‘He teaches at the grammar school, and he felt he would be more help out of the way.’
As he spoke, Mrs. Mead appeared at the doorway. She looked drained and grey with exhaustion, but there was defiance in the set of her jaw as she said, ‘Just so you both know, I’ve sent for Dr Llewellyn.’
Sebastian’s dark eyebrows drew together and in a low, controlled voice he said, ‘Dr Neville will be here in a few hours, Mrs. Mead. There is no need to trouble Llewellyn.’
Even as he spoke, a knocking at the door announced the arrival of the doctor. He bustled into the house, his ancient wig askew and traces of gravy still at the corner of his lips. Without waiting for an introduction to the two new members of the household, he hurried upstairs, complaining about being interrupted in the middle of his dinner.
In the doorway, he stopped and turned to the crowd on the landing who had followed him up. He waved a hand at the dampened fire, the billowing curtains and the light covering over his patient, and his face grew purple with anger.
