Amelia raced down to them and threw herself into Juliette’s arms. Her sister was holding her daughter, Grace, but she hugged her back, even with the child between them. “I suppose you’re glad we’ve come?”
“I pray you can save her.” To Dr. Fraser, she explained what had happened, and once Lord Falsham heard the symptoms, he held up a hand.
“I will do what I can, Lady Castledon. But you must ken that this is no’ something I’ve heard of in my studies. It sounds like a rare illness.”
Mrs. Larson arrived at that moment and embraced them both. “Go on up and see the wee lass, Dr. Fraser. She’ll be needing ye to bide awhile. And Miss Juliette, come inside, and I’ll find some food for ye and yer sweet bairn.” The housekeeper ushered them inside the parlor while Amelia led Dr. Fraser up the stairs.
The doctor fired questions at her, and she answered as quickly as she could. He was muttering to himself beneath his breath in Gaelic, but the moment he entered the sickroom, a change came over his demeanor.
He walked over to the bed and greeted Christine warmly. “I’ll bid you a good morn, lass. I am Dr. Paul Fraser, and I’m also theViscount of Falsham. Your stepmother asked me to come and look at you.”
Amelia stepped back, but she didn’t miss the wariness in her husband’s eyes. David was staring at the doctor as if he didn’t know what to expect. His eyes seemed to warn her that if Dr. Fraser couldn’t cure Christine, he would do whatever was necessary to find a physician who could.
An ache centered inside Amelia, but she forced back the fear. The Scottish doctor felt the girl’s pulse and examined her. He paid particular attention to Christine’s hands, not only checking her muscles, but also testing her skin with both hot and cold water. “Do you feel that, lass?”
When Christine shook her head, Dr. Fraser looked into her eyes and checked her mouth and throat.
“What do you think this is?” Amelia asked Dr. Fraser when she could bear it no longer.
“I canna say that I’ve seen it before,” he admitted. “But I’ve brought many of my books with me. If there’s a doctor who has written about this illness, I’ll be finding out what he’s learned. And we’ll do what we can to cure it.”
Then he asked Christine, “How long has it been since you’ve moved your legs or hands?”
“About a week,” she admitted.
“It’s no’ good for limbs to remain idle for so long,” Dr. Fraser said. To the earl, he ordered, “She needs to have her legs and arms moved several times a day, so the blood can flow to them. You can do it yourselves or have a servant help her. But if the blood doesna flow where it’s needing to go, she could lose her ability to walk once she’s healed.”
“I’ll help her,” David said. He went to sit at Christine’s side, while Amelia took the opposite end.
“I’ll be seeing about Juliette and Grace for a moment, and then I’ll return with the books,” Dr. Fraser promised. He departed the room, leaving Amelia alone with her husband.
The bleakness in David’s posture bothered her deeply, for she sensed him shutting her out. After he lowered the bedcovers, Amelia took Christine’s left leg, meaning to bend it.
“I’ll do it, Amelia,” he said. “You can go.”
“Both of us can help her,” she said. “I can do this leg while you do the other.”
“No.” There was frost in his voice that bewildered her. “Go and leave us. I will take care of my own daughter.”
The way you didn’t, she imagined he would say. His words were an invisible blow, and she felt the physical ache of his rejection.
“She can stay, Papa,” Christine offered.
“Not this time,” he insisted. “Amelia has other duties that require her attention. I will take care of you.”
The tightness in her throat held the foreboding of tears, and Amelia stood up. To Christine, she offered, “I’ll bring you a pot of chocolate if you like.”
The girl ventured a smile, but in her eyes, Amelia saw hopelessness. “Perhaps later.”
She squeezed her stepdaughter’s hand and stole another look at David. He was moving Christine’s right leg, gently bending her knee. Amelia waited for him to say something before she left the room.
But he wouldn’t even look at her.
His little girl was dying.
Though David tried to put on a brave face and behave as if she was going to get better, he sensed the truth—that Christine wouldfollow in her mother’s footsteps. But God help him, he didn’t know how he could face this again.
She was just a girl, hardly more than eleven. Her entire life should have been ahead of her, a pathway leading toward a happy future. Instead, he looked upon her face and saw the dark shadow of death.
