“My duke!” That’s Lydia’s sweet voice. “You’re better!”
Tears come to my eyes as I glance at my daughter. “My reason for everything. My Lidochka …”
“Yes. My duke, my papa, my Papa Duke. I’m here.” She starts to crawl to me but stops when I cough. I’ve frightened her with my weakness.
Scarlett bounces from her chair and steadies me. “Your Grace, you’ve awakened.” She mops my brow. “Still fevered. And you’ve been having talkative dreams.”
If I had the strength to color, I would. “Fevered foolish nightmares I disregard.” I clear my throat. “Water, please, and a bath. And different clothes.”
“Jasha.” My mother marches from the fireplace to my bed. “I commanded you to get better, and you have. You’re finally listening.”
Wincing, I laugh a little. “Mamen’ka, I’m trying. I’ll not be defeated. Must win for my daughter … and of course your orders.”
“What did you call her, Papa Duke? Does Princess Grama have another name? Everything is so confusing.”
Lydia looks so hurt.
I want to die inside … not literally, though. “I’m sorry, Lidochka. Smile for me.”
Scarlett offers me a ladle of tea. I clear my throat, suppressing a cough as the hot basil smelling liquid dumps into my gullet. “Mamen’ka is like ‘Mama.’ It’s a Russian endearment.”
My mother runs her fingers through my matted hair. She sees me in such bad condition. I am shamed. Don’t want her to hurt for me. I ache enough for everyone. “Mamen’ka. Brave face, please.”
“Jasha. Lady Lydia and I need you strong.”
“‘Mamen’ka’ sounds pretty.” There are tears on Lydia’s little brown face. And her eyes are shaped like jewels like her blasted mother’s. “Because of Katherine,” she says, “I don’t have one … well, not the one I thought I had.”
I catch my mother’s hand. I want her strength. I need it to make everything better for everyone. “I should’ve found a better way for you to learn of this, but I had to let you know whose you are … who you are.”
“Yeah. I have a longer name, but you sent that man with the papers because you think you’re going to die.” Lydia’s voice is small. Yet it feels as sharp as a knife. I want it to cut at my ribs and release the pain. So much pain.
Then she says, “Don’t die.”
I don’t want to.
I look at my little girl, and I am filled with such gratitude. “When I’m better, ponies for everyone … every week … every day.”
Scarlett frowns as she touches my forehead. “You need to settle and break the fever.” She brings more water to my lips.
I sip a long, long time. Maybe this is how infinity can be mine, just looking at the people I love. “Mamen’ka, Scarlett Wilcox Carew is brilliant. She and her husband … I brought the match together … They are going to help me recover.”
“We will need to try more willow-bark tea.” Scarlett’s words sound more like a question.
I push away the ladle. “That’s a different one. The last tea confused me. My arm feels better, but it makes for strange dreams.”
“The wild lettuce might do that. And I’ll have more teas for you when you are well. We’ll get that appetite up, too.” Scarlett leans over me, checking my eyes. “I shall find the right combination of herbs to make you better, to keep you better.”
“I want to believe Scarlett … Aunt Scarlett can do anything.” Lydia sits up straighter. “I won’t make a fuss if you ask Katherine to help.”
“You’re a precious child, just like Jasha said.” Mamen’ka folds her arms. “But I do not want her here. She’s caused nothing but problems.”
I give her a look which makes her quiet. When she goes to the window to talk to the sky in Russian, she calls me a fool with too much faith.
I am a fool. I have faith. I had it in Katherine. Can’t believe she hated me so much that she’d keep our Lydia from me.
“My sisters, both of them know decorum, ma’am.” Scarlett again wipes my brow. “While I highly disapprove of all Katherine’s done, I know she did it to protect the Wilcox family. Scandal is hard for women, especially us.”
My mother turns. A new softness fades her frown. “Yes, I suppose it is. I believe I know what you Wilcoxes experience. We of Gannibal’s exalted African lineage have had more scrutiny. But that is our responsibility, if we choose to enter rarefied air.”
