Page 23 of The Return of the Heir

Chapter Six

Gwendolyn held back the tears that threatened as she sat on the bed next to her sister. She must be strong for Arabella. Her sister’s eyes were closed, and she struggled to take each breath. Her chest rattled with her efforts. Dark circles appeared below her eyes and a bluish tint came to her lips—the only colour in her otherwise pale face.

How had her sister become so weak and frail in a matter of a few hours? Or was it that now she was in a fully lit chamber, Gwendolyn could see the telltale signs that had been there all along?

Gwendolyn reached out and stroked Arabella’s cheek with the back of her hand. Her sister’s skin glistened with sweat, and strands of her newly washed hair clung to her face, which was deathly pale. She tossed her head from side to side. “I am here, Sister. We are all safe,” Gwendolyn said, brushing away a tendril of hair and wiping Arabella’s forehead with the damp cloth from the side table. Arabella released a shallow breath as she settled into her pillow.

Seeking some sense of reassurance, Gwendolyn looked across the bedside to where Samuel sat in a chair, his features tight with worry. “It’s going to be all right,” she soothed, hoping and praying there was truth behind her words.

On the table next to the window, an older female healer mixed a potion with her mortar and pestle. “What has been done for her?” Gwendolyn asked.

“She was bathed and took a cup of bone broth while warming by the fire. But all that exertion has weakened her even more. I’m mixing her a tonic of hyssop, spurge, and hartshorn. It will help her breath more easily.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Talk to her. She calms when she hears your voice.” When the mixture was smooth, the healer carried it to the bedside. Gently lifting Arabella’s head, she placed a spoonful in her mouth. Almost at once, Arabella fell into a paroxysm of coughing as the mixture slipped down her throat.

Not knowing what else to do, Gwendolyn placed her hand on Arabella’s chest and hummed one of the songs the Grey Lady had taught them. The soothing actions worked. The fit receded and her sister’s breathing came easier. After a few moments, she released a long, slow breath and opened her eyes.

“Gwennie?”

“I’m here, dearest.”

“Garrick?”

“You don’t need to worry about him any longer. You are safe. There are guards outside your door to protect you.” Gwendolyn rinsed out the cloth that lay against her sister’s forehead and brought it back to Arabella’s face. When Gwendolyn realised her hands were shaking, she left the cloth on her sister’s forehead and clutched them together in her lap. “Sleep. It is what you need to get better.”

Arabella searched her face, no doubt seeing things Gwendolyn wanted to hide—her own exhaustion, her fear, and the fact that the trauma of this night had taken a toll on her own strength. “I’m sorry I’m being such a bother to you. You should leave me and get some sleep yourself. I can bathe my own face,” she said, reaching for the towel.

“Hush.” Gwendolyn batted Arabella’s hand away from the cloth before removing it herself to rinse it in the cool water once more. “Please don’t argue. I don’t have the strength to fight you. Let me help you.”

The glimmer of a smile came to Arabella’s lips. “That’s the first time you’ve ever admitted your weakness to me. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Are you laughing at me?” Gwendolyn asked with a smile touching her lips.

“I would never.” A soft giggle erupted from Arabella.

Gwendolyn felt the tension in her shoulders relax as she rinsed the cloth yet again, bringing it across her sister’s cheeks and chest. If Arabella could laugh, then things weren’t all that bad, were they? “Close your eyes and rest.”

“Aye, Gwennie. As long as you promise to do the same eventually.”

At Gwendolyn’s nod, Arabella shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep. When Gwendolyn was certain her sister was deep in slumber, she turned to the healer. “Please tell me that she will be well soon.”

“There are no guarantees with Winter Fever. I’ve seen miraculous recoveries and also watched as patients left this world in a fit of coughing.” The older woman came forward and took the cloth from Gwendolyn’s fingers. “As you told her, she needs sleep. And she must continue to take broth to rebuild her strength so that her lungs can heal. But you and your brother must take care of yourselves if you are to remain strong for Arabella.” The healer looked across the bed to where Samuel now slept in the chair. “The both of you need to keep yourselves healthy and strong for your sister.”

Gwendolyn nodded as she stood. “I should move him to his pallet.”

“I’ll have one of the guards do that while you bathe.” The healer angled her head towards the hip bath that sat near the hearth. “The water might only be tepid by now.”

Gwendolyn released a shattered breath that was part excitement, part relief. “It matters not. It has been so long since we’ve had such a luxury.”

The older woman smiled as she turned back to the bag of medicines she had brought with her. She rooted around in it for a moment before turning back to Gwendolyn. “Take this. It will help you relax.” She placed a large shaving of soap in Gwendolyn’s hand.

The scents of mint, oats, and rosemary came to her as Gwendolyn closed her hand around the precious item. “That is very kind of you, Mistress.”

“Call me Lottie. Everyone does.”

“Then thank you, Lottie. I appreciate your kindness to me and your skill in helping my sister.”