“Miss Selwyn, we shall see what happens. For now, we have a book to finish.” With that, he began to read.
His thoughts wandered even as the words on the page slipped effortlessly from his lips. He could see Mia in his home in Wales. His children would welcome her. Would she be happy there? Would he? The answer, he increasingly thought, was yes.
Chapter Seventeen
Kerr lived anotherday and passed deep into the second night. Mia found a note from Gideon, who had been on duty. He had covered the woman’s face with the coverlet, left the note, and slipped away.
In the early morning light, while Selina slept soundly, Mia went into the dressing room to pray for Kerr. The woman had been unkind to Mia, but she couldn’t hold resentment, not after this. She scribbled a note about Kerr’s death to Mrs. Morrit and set it in the hall.
She washed her face and hands, went to sit by Selina, and reread Gideon’s note twice. It was best, he said, to leave when there would be few about to witness it. She supposed that was true to a point, but she knew full well the entire manor already knew he’d been with them for two days.
A scratch at the door announced breakfast. She found a teapot in its cozy and a tray with three bowls of porridge. Word hadn’t reached the kitchen, she could see. She ate her porridge and poured a cup of tea, waiting for Selina to awaken.
A firmer knock came before she did, and Mia found Mrs. Morrit standing as far across the hall as she could. The gaze she cast on Mia held neither disapproval nor reproof. There was instead, Mia feared, pity in the woman’s eyes.
“Are you well, Miss Selwyn?” the housekeeper asked.
“Yes, thank you. I seem to be immune to the disease,” Mia replied.
“I know that man was here. Did he—I just—” She’d never seen the housekeeper quite so flustered.
“Mr. Kendrick heroically stepped in when I reached the end of my strength, Mrs. Morrit. He was a perfect gentleman. He is gone.”
Mrs. Morrit’s skepticism was palpable. “He informed us that Miss Kerr is no longer among the living.”
Of course he did. He thinks of everything. Mia nodded sadly. “We left her in the dressing room. I didn’t know what to do.”
“The dead are being kept in the icehouse. Mr. Kendrick directed me to send footmen to move her remains. Will that be acceptable?” Mrs. Morrit asked.
“I would be most grateful. I suppose my uncle would know if she has family and where she ought to be buried,” Mia replied.
“He has been notified,” the housekeeper said crisply. Mia wondered what all he had been told but didn’t dare ask.
“Fee?” They’d woken Selina. Her voice sounded weak and thready.
“How is the other Miss Selwyn?” Mrs. Morrit asked.
“My cousin is very weak but mending. Thank you for asking. Her fever is gone,” Mia said.
“That will put my footmen’s minds at rest. Prepare her for their entry,” Mrs. Morrit said.
Mia went to get Selina up but first had to tell her about Kerr.
Selina squeezed her eyes shut as she listened. They were moist when she opened them. “But, Fee, who will take care of my clothes or fix my hair? Papa will have to hire a new ladies’ maid. He won’t be happy.”
Mia breathed in deeply.So much for depth of grief for the poor woman.
She soon had Selina wrapped and in the chair, feeding her porridge when the men arrived to carry Kerr out wrapped in a sheet. She thanked God and Mr. Kendrick that she had the strength to do so. The footmen cast a glance or two Selina’s way, but neither spoke. They worked quickly and were on their way.
Selina fretted and fussed. She hated porridge and refused to face any more. Sitting up for any time wore her out, and she had to be helped back to bed. She demanded that Mia read and then that she stop. “Mr. Kendrick reads better than you do,” she whined. She demanded tea, then left half of it. She asked for willow bark and then complained that it did no good.
Shortly before noon, in the midst of another attempt at the book, Selina murmured, “Why did Kerr have to die…,” and turned her face to the wall. Her words touched Mia, who was relieved to know the woman’s death affected her cousin after all.
Mia left her there. She scooted her chair into a patch of sunlight from the window, her head aching from rioting thoughts and confusion over the events of yesterday and that morning. She could do nothing for Kerr and nothing about the result of Gideon’s presence in her room. In a moment of blinding honesty, she realized she wanted him to come back. She missed his comforting presence. With a faint smile over that thought, she fell asleep in the chair.
*
The sun hadbarely reached its zenith at midday when Jem woke Gideon to inform him that Viscount Clavering had arrived and was in a “powerful anger,” demanding Marshall, the housekeeper, and above all, Gideon.
