Lady Arlington sighed. “He was gone from this house the next morning. Took a silver candlestick with him, ungrateful thief.”
A thread of unease wound its way through Juliette. Lady Arlington had described the boy as scruffy and thieving, which meant he was likely poor. Very poor. And sick. She shook her head, unwilling to accept the possibility she faced. London was filled with such children. The chance of him being the one who’d escaped getting shot as he fled St. Giles was unlikely. And yet, he’d passed on a cough.
Covering her mouth with the linen she’d brought with her while Lady Arlington looked on with hesitation, Juliette tied it securely in place. “Please show me up to her room so I can check on her.”
The lady did as Juliette bid, ushering her into a darkened room that smelled of sweat and disease. A cough raked the air, and Juliette turned her attention toward the bed where her friend’s flushed face was illuminated by a nearby candle.
Oh, Vivien!
Juliette approached her friend with increasing despair. Her eyes were barely open, her breath wheezing past her lips as she offered a weak smile in greeting. “I would rather—” A cough made her body shudder for an agonizing length of time. “You should not see me like this.”
“Nonsense,” Juliette told her as calmly as she possibly could. She placed her hand upon Vivien’s burning brow and expelled a fragmented breath. “Will you let me examine you?”
“I didn’t think her condition warranted a physician, but I can send for one if you think it necessary,” Lady Arlington spoke from the door.
Juliette feared that doing so might be too late. “There is no need,” she said with as much positivity as she was able. “I believe I know what this might be, but I cannot be sure unless you allow me to take a closer look.”
“It’s all right,” Vivien whispered. “Go ahead.”
Carefully, Juliette peeled back the covers and helped Vivien sit so she could pull up her nightgown. As she feared, a rash had started to spread across Vivien’s abdomen which, when combined with the fever and hacking dry cough, suggested a sickness more serious than a cold.
“Have you experienced any nausea lately?” Juliette drew back to hide her distress as much as possible.
“Some. Mostly, my back and my limbs really ache and I have a terrible headache.”
“That’s probably because of the fever.” Juliette reached for Vivien’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before picking up the glass that sat on the bedside table and holding it to Vivien’s lips. “I will fetch some more water and some cloth so we can make a cool compress for you. Rest awhile until I return.”
“I hope it is not too serious,” Lady Arlington said once she and Juliette had left Vivien’s bedchamber. “She does look worse than she did this morning.”
Steadying herself against the banister, Juliette followed the dowager baroness down the stairs. Suppressing her fear would not be easy. Already, panic was building inside her, growing and expanding with each passing second.
“Your niece is indeed quite ill.” The voice that spoke sounded foreign, completely devoid of all the emotions assailing her body. Her eyes began to sting, but since crying would serve no purpose, Juliette deliberately pushed back the tears and ignored the aching lump in her throat.
By the time they arrived in the kitchen, she had squared her shoulders and accepted what had to be done. And that brought a strange sense of peace to her mind, which was something she would not have expected under the circumstances.
Steeling herself, she gave her prognosis. “Although I am not an apothecary surgeon or a trained physician, I believe Vivien has typhus.”
Lady Arlington, who’d begun pouring water from a large jug into a smaller one, went utterly still. She shook her head, alarm creeping into her eyes. “No. It cannot be.”
“Of course there’s a chance I might be mistaken, but according to what I have read, Vivien’s symptoms are in accord with this disease and... considering the outbreak in St. Giles and the boy she brought home, I fear she may have contracted it.”
“Dear God in heaven!”
Juliette nodded. “If I am correct, measures must be taken to prevent further spread.” She paused for a second before saying, “No one can enter or leave this house for the next two weeks.”
Lady Arlington stared at her, the jug in her hand completely forgotten. “But... You cannot be serious! We shall need food and any number of things that I cannot seem to think of right now.”
“I am sorry, but quarantine is necessary. At least until we can be sure not to pass the disease on to others.” Resolve gripped Juliette’s body. “Since you may already be infected and there is no guarantee that covering my mouth is enough to keep me safe, it goes without saying that I shall remain here until this has passed.”
“Juliette...” Lady Arlington looked thoroughly distraught, which was understandable, all things considered. After all, Juliette had just delivered the closest thing to a death sentence she possibly could.
“Putting my family at risk by returning home is out of the question. Besides, you might need my help.”
“I scarcely know what to say.” Lady Arlington’s voice broke, and the corners of her eyes began to glisten. “But what if you have not yet caught it? Staying here with us could ensure that you do.”
Juliette nodded. “Yes, but to leave here, without knowing if I am carrying the disease with me, would be highly irresponsible. I cannot do it, though I will need to inform my brother of what has occurred. If you would be so kind as to lend me some writing utensils when we return upstairs, I will pen him a note.” She bit her lips while pondering the best path forward. “Perhaps I can toss it to a passerby from one of the upstairs’ windows and ask them to deliver it.”
“It seems as though you have it all figured out.” Lady Arlington’s lips began to tremble, and when she spoke again, she sounded weak and defeated. “I am frightened by this. I cannot deny it.”
