“You weren't in your room.”
“I came down early. What is it, Em?”
Now that she was near, he could see the paleness of her skin, a glitter of a tear at the edge of her lashes.
“It’s dreadful,” she said, voice tremulous. “Annie has fallen ill, and it seems to have spread to a few of the guests.”
“Annie?”
“The extra maid we hired in from the village.” She looked up at him as a tear slid down her cheek. “It’s fever.”
Tristan reached for her then. A steadying hand on her arm, though he felt anything but steady. Fever was a killer. It had changed their lives. Stolen their mother. Destroyed their father.
“Which guests?” he said, trying to catch his breath, trying to temper his fears.
“Miss Bridewell. Marigold. Hyacinth’s sister.”
He took a breath, though his body remained tensed, as if preparing for some unforeseen battle.
“Lady Sybil isn’t feeling well either, but does not yet seem to have a fever.”
“The doctor?—”
“I’ve already sent for Dr. Russell. He should be here at any moment.”
“Good.” Tristan chafed his hand along her arm. “What can I do?”
“Would you speak to Collier? I don’t know if he and Lady Felicia will wish to stay. Obviously Selwick wishes to remain with his sister. And the duke and duchess won’t depart until Marigold is well again. However, Lady Hemphill is quite adamant about preparing to depart immediately.”
“That is understandable.” The woman was near their father’s age and illness would likely be as hard on her constitution as it would be on his.
She looked up at him with something like irritation. “Would you permit Alexander to remain if she departed?”
“We invited him,” Tristan told her. “If he wishes to remain, he may.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“And Hyacinth?” The words were out before he could think better of it, and he could not regret it. Even when Emma’s eyes widened and a kind of awestruck look swept away her frown of moments before.
“Have you grown very fond of her, Tristan?”
“Yes.” The simplest answer to the most extraordinary feelings.
A soft, genuine smile lit up her face. “How did I miss this blooming right in front of me?”
Tristan reached up to grip the back of his neck and turned his gaze away, then back to his sister.
“It is a rather recent development on my part. I wish it wasn’t. It seems I was blind for much of the Season.”
Emma beamed, then her expression fell into a frown again. “Oh heavens, I should not have invited Lady Felicia.”
“It’s all right. None of that matters anymore. I’ve spoken to Lady Felicia.”
Emma nodded. “Well then. Perhaps it is better if she and Collier depart.”
“I’ll speak to them now, if you like.” Tristan gave her arm a final squeeze and then they both turned to head back into the house.
“I’d like to speak to Dr. Russell before he departs,” Tristan said.
