“Are you unwell, Lady Cumberland?” Dr. Aiken set down his plate while his gaze narrowed on me.
“I—” I paused, unsure. My hand went to my stomach, where the nausea was threatening to upend me. “Will you excuse me?” I looked desperately for an escape from the church and rushed toward the door we had entered. People watched me with concern and curiosity as I passed, but no one said a word.
I almost didn’t make it to the churchyard before I lost the contents of my stomach. A gravestone nearby seemed to taunt me as I retched in the tall grass. My eyes watered, and I had to force myself to take a deep, shuddering breath.
“Lady Cumberland?” Dr. Aiken had followed me and extended a handkerchief for my use.
With shaking hands, I took it from him and pressed it against my mouth, mortified at what had happened—afraid it might happen again.
Edith had also followed us, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Please get Lady Cumberland a glass of water,” Dr. Aiken said to her.
She nodded and disappeared inside the church.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Dr. Aiken put his hand under my elbow and led me to a stone bench overlooking the cliff and the town below. The cold air felt good against my warm cheeks.
I took the seat, thankful to ease the strain on my weak legs. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“There’s no need to apologize. How long have you been feeling this way?”
I shook my head. “Not long—just today, really. It came on so suddenly.”
Edith returned, out of breath from rushing. She handed me a glass of water, which I took thankfully.
“Perhaps you should return to Cumberland Hall,” Dr. Aiken said.
“I think you’re right.” If I was getting sick, the last place I wanted to be was in the soup kitchen.
“Would you mind if I visited you later? When I’m done here?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t think it’s necessary. I’ve been sick before. Surely it will pass soon enough.”
“I’d feel better, all the same.”
Edith nodded, imploring me with her eyes to accept his offer. How could I deny both of them?
“I believe you’ll be wasting your time,” I said in a lighthearted voice, “but if you would like to come, I will not turn you away.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
Edith sent a young man to find Williams, and twenty minutes later we were on our way back to Cumberland Hall. The nausea continued, though it wasn’t nearly as bad.
“All I need,” I said to Edith as the car rumbled over the country road leading to Cumberland Hall, kicking up dust in our wake, “is a good lie down. I’ll be better once I can rest.”
She didn’t look so sure.
By the time Dr. Aiken arrived at Cumberland Hall, I was in a nightgown and under the covers of my large four-poster bed, with a fire crackling in the hearth, feeling better. I was tired and found when I lay down, the nausea subsided. It also helped with the dizziness.
“Perhaps I’m getting influenza,” I told Edith, who had appeared in my room to tell me she had seen Dr. Aiken’s automobile on the road. “Though I don’t feel feverish.”
Edith plumped up my pillow and moved a tendril of hair off my cheek. “How about we let him determine your ailment?”
I smiled at her motherliness. She had been kinder and more thoughtful to me than Mother Wells ever had.
A few minutes later, Dr. Aiken appeared at my door. “How is our patient feeling?”
“Better,” I told him. “When I lie down, the nausea and dizziness are almost gone, but as soon as I stand, they return.”
