Chapter Eleven #2
“All they do is play and complain.” That was rich coming from her. After all, what did she do with her life? She went to parties and complained about her mother’s complaining. She dropped her chin on her head. “Good God, I’ve become one of them, haven’t I?”
“No more than the rest of us. I, too, look for something more substantial to fill my days.” Her expression grew sober. “I would appreciate it if you could visit my cousin Mary Ann.”
“I’d heard that her dog is sick. Is he very ill?”
“It’s Oscar’s time. He’s lived a long and happy life, but Mary Ann is inconsolable.
” Kimberly sighed. “With dogs, all one must do is hold them, love them, and when the time comes, let them know you are there for them. It’s sad.
It’s hard, but it is natural.” She lifted her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I do not know what to do for people.”
“It is much the same for people at the end, I think. It is the times when we are not dying that are harder to navigate.”
“You will talk to her?”
Emmaline nodded. “I will visit. Only she can say if she will speak with me.”
“I’m sure she will. You never fail to make people feel better. You’re much like Oscar in that regard.”
Emma laughed. Despite the awkwardness of the phrasing, she knew that was high praise from Kimberly.
Unfortunately, the image stuck, and it did not help her mood.
She pictured herself as a lap dog passed from one person to another.
She soothed, she barked about the bad people, she performed tasks that pleased her companions, and then she went home feeling more disgusted with her life than ever before.
The thing that was both good and bad about dogs was that they gave complete love, absolute loyalty, and never, ever complained about how they were treated.
They also never forced their masters to grow in any way, shape, or form.
What good was soothing someone’s irritation if they never changed what caused the irritation in the first place?
She didn’t want to be a lapdog. She wanted to be a scolding nanny to the most childish adults in the world.
Why didn’t people want to change the things that made them miserable? Why didn’t she want to leave her current life for something more fulfilling or at least different?
Her gaze returned to Miss Wong’s face and found the lady inspiring.
She couldn’t imagine being torn from one’s home, brought to another country where she didn’t speak the language, and then offered as a plaything to a king.
She’d clearly suffered terrible things and still had the strength to fight back.
She’d killed one of her abusers. She’d learned to speak English.
What had Emmaline ever done that compared to that?
She had no answer. Thankfully, she didn’t need to because at that moment, Max came in with a jar of…was that dirt?
“Is she awake?” he asked as soon as he crossed the threshold.
“It’s a fitful sleep at best,” Emma responded. “What is that? I thought you went to get medicine.”
He shrugged. “It’s what she wanted, but I don’t know if she’s supposed to take it as hot tea or eat it straight.”
“But what is it?” Lady Kimberly asked as she peered at the jar.
He blinked as he noticed the other lady in the room. “Oh. Hullo Kim. It’s mold.” He held up his hands to quiet her before she could ask. “I have no idea why, but she was very clear.”
Kimberly nodded. “Add some honey to it.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “Honey helps everything.”
“I’ll get it,” Emmaline said as she pushed to her feet. “I hope it helps.”
It could hardly hurt. She was quick to find a footman and ask for a pot of honey. Then as she returned to the bedroom, she heard Kimberly speak. Her words were formal, as usual, her tone matter of fact, but Emmaline heard how her words faded away in surprise.
“Wake her gently. We’ll need to… lift…” She stopped speaking and Emmaline stepped into the bedroom to see what had silenced her longtime friend.
Max had settled on the bed, a place that was wholly inappropriate for an unmarried man. He was leaning forward while one finger gently stroked the lady’s face.
“Yihui,” he said. “I’m here with the medicine.”
Emmaline had never heard her brother croon to anyone and a glance at Kimberly’s face saw the same shock.
The Chinese woman’s eyes fluttered open. Her skin was flushed pink, but her eyes appeared clear as she focused on the man above her. Her mouth curved into a soft smile even as her brows drew together.
“Medicine?” she rasped.
“I have it.”
He supported her head and shoulders, easily lifting her up then holding her there while he looked to Lady Kimberly.
“Kim. The pillows, please?”
It took a moment for the lady to realize what he wanted. She rushed to do as he asked, fumbling a bit while he cradled Miss Wong.
Emma saw what her brother did not. She saw that Kimberly’s cheeks had turned hot with embarrassment.
That the lady served—as she always did—while damning herself for not seeing the need beforehand.
And while Max gently lowered his charge, Kimberly stood by awkwardly, her gaze hopping between Max and Miss Wong.
“Tell me what I must do,” Max said to the patient. His tone was soft, almost pleading, and Emma gaped at her normally brusque brother.
Miss Wong pointed at the jar of mold, gesturing for him to hand it over. He did, his movements rushed as he opened the jar for her. She sniffed, she nodded, then she looked to the sideboard.
“Tea?”
Max’s head snapped up. “Bloody idiots,” he muttered. “Where is—”
“Right here,” Emma said in the same voice she used when her mother was on the verge of hysterics.
A footman entered carrying the tea tray. Max pointed with impatience at the bedside table.
“Damn it, Em, you’ve got too many fripperies here to fit the tray.”
She had too many…? “Have you taken leave of your senses?” she snapped. And then she belatedly realized that she’d just been incredibly indiscrete in front of Kimberly and the footman. Good lord, what had happened to everyone today, herself included?
She hurried to clear a space and then personally moved the teapot, honey pot, and other items to the table. When it was done, she gestured the footman away. He disappeared quickly, no doubt eager to carry the tale of Max being besotted with the Chinese witch.
After all, there was no other explanation as to why her normally unflappable brother was suddenly gathering mold in jars and acting so solicitous of a woman he’d met not more than a few hours ago.
Meanwhile, Max was continuing his idiotic behavior. He held out the teacup, cradled in his enormous hands while Miss Wong pinched out a large amount of mold.
“Honey?” he asked as he passed the pot to her.
She sniffed it and nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you.”
You would have thought her brother had been gifted with the crown jewels, so wide was his smile as he dropped in several thick dollops of honey.
Emmaline stared at her brother. “It was Kimberly’s idea,” she said firmly.
He nodded absently. “Yes. Thank you, Kim.”
Good lord, he didn’t even look up. His eyes were on the Chinese woman as she took the cup from his hand and gestured for him to pour the water in. He did so, and Emmaline had to look away as the lady stirred it quickly, then gulped it down.
In her defense, she appeared to despise what she’d done as much as Emma would. Her nose was wrinkled, her face screwed up in disgust, but she did it. And that, apparently, was the depth of her strength as she collapsed back against the pillows.
Max set everything back on the side table, his expression solicitous. “Is there anything else? Water? Food?” He made gestures with his hands as he spoke, but the woman shook her head. Instead, she pointed down to her feet.
“Must see.”
“There’s no need…”
Max tried to deny her, but the woman was adamant. She took a moment to gather her courage. Emma could see it in the way she squared her shoulders and narrowed her brows. Such courage in this foreign woman! Then she pulled herself upright to see her feet.
Emma winced, as did everyone in the room. Her feet were a red, swollen mess and the lady gave a mew of distress.
“It’ll get better,” Max quickly assured her. “You need time.” He quickly covered her back up.
Apparently, the woman had seen enough. She dropped back onto her pillows in misery, her gaze going back to Max. “Thank you,” she said.
“I’ll stay here with you tonight. You’re safe here.”
Again, Emma met Kimberly’s shocked gaze. Max was going to sit vigil? Didn’t he have to go entertain Prinny? Or perhaps discover a way out of this predicament? Apparently not because he settled his chair such that he could cradle the Chinese’s woman’s hand in his own.
“Are you feverish?” Emma blurted out. Good God, couldn’t the man see that he was coddling a foreign woman right in front of Kimberly?
“What are you about, Em?”
She was about to knock him about the head. “Max,” she said firmly, “your fiancée is over there!” She pointed to Kim who immediately straightened.
“I know where she is,” Max said, abruptly removing his hand from beneath Miss Wong’s. “Kimberly and I understand each other very well.”
“Well, the servants don’t. And I don’t. Max—”
Kimberly abruptly interrupted. “No, no! Don’t cut up at him.”
“What?” Emma demanded.
“He’s had a shock. You both have. Today has been incredibly difficult for all of us. He’s concerned for his guest’s health, and that is to the good. I, um… People tend to act very odd around death, you know, even a pet’s death.”
Max’s tone was hard. “She’s not dying.”
“What? No, I meant the other one. The…um…violent one.”
That silenced them all for a moment. The sight of the dead mandarin had not left her thoughts for one second. Perhaps cutting up at her brother was how she had distracted herself.
“Still, he cannot fawn over Miss Wong. It’s not fair to you.”
“I’m not fawning—”
“Of course, it’s not fair,” Kimberly retorted. “None of it ever is. But I have agreed to be Ophelia, you see. Not long, mind you, but for now.”
Emma had no idea what that meant, but Max clearly did.
He tucked his hands into his lap and frowned at Miss Wong.
Her eyes were open, her expression neutral.
She was clearly aware of the discussion around her, but Emma had no idea if she understood enough English to follow it.
Hell, English was Emma’s native language, and she wasn’t sure what was going on.
Meanwhile, Kimberly continued. “I’m going to leave now, Max, unless you want me to stay.”
“Good God no. There’s no need for us both to lose a night’s sleep.”
Emma huffed out a breath. “There’s no need for either of you to do such. We do have servants.”
“Who are terrified of her,” Max said firmly.
Well, that was true.
“Figure it out, Max,” Kimberly said as she gathered her things.
“What?”
“Figure out what you want to do. Everything waits upon you.” She came around the bedside to look him in the eye. “I wait upon you.”
His expression softened and he stood with awkward grace. His cheeks were tinged red as he gathered her hand in his. “A little bit longer, Kimberly. I swear.” Then he pressed a reverent kiss to her hand.
“Very well, Hamlet.”
“Stop that,” he grumbled as he straightened.
She arched her brows at him while he rolled his eyes at her. Watching it, Emmaline could see the connections of long friendship, the bonds that allowed for mistreatment, forgiveness, and even an amiable future marriage.
But she also saw so many ways it could go wrong. Theirs was not a relationship built on mutual passion, thank goodness. Both were even tempered, rational people. But even rational people broke under extraordinary stress, and she did not like this sudden disruption of Chinese into their lives.
“Wait!” Emma said as she made her decision. “I shall go with you, if you don’t mind.”
“What?”
“Well, the patient is in my bedroom. I need somewhere to stay.” And she wasn’t going into the yellow bedroom ever again. “You and I can spend the evening together saying all kinds of nasty things about my brother.”
“Emma, please,” groaned Max.
“He’s going to have a long, lonely night to consider his sins,” Emma continued. “I say we do the same.”
Kimberly grinned. “I shall love it beyond all else.”
“Have at it,” he harumphed as he dropped back into his chair. “I care very little about what either of you say.”
“And that, brother dear, is exactly the problem.”