CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
‘Good grief.’ Lord Barkby looked suitably stunned.
‘I can think of no possible reason why she has come to Bath unless … Oh, I wonder if Selina, my sister-in-law, has failed to produce “The Heir”, and Robert has had enough of his mother’s carping? I have had no contact, you see, so I do not know. He was always very mild, but even a worm may turn.’
He could not help but laugh at her description of her brother-in-law.
‘I think you need that glass of wine to revive you, Lady Dembleby, after your shock.’
‘It was certainly unpleasant.’ Louisa shuddered.
‘But you will not let it upset you, will you.’ It was more instruction than question.
‘No. I will not. I am no longer to be browbeaten by that woman.’
‘Good. I prescribe madeira.’ They entered the Tavern, and his lordship secured refreshment.
It was decided that after the wine, Mr Gilmorton would escort Miss Brailes and Miss Newent to their respective mamas, since they resided but two streets apart.
Mr Gilmorton was only 293sorry that it was Miss Newent who lived the further away, depriving him of walking, even for a few hundred yards, with Miss Brailes.
Proprieties would be observed by a maid from the Brailes establishment, ensuring Miss Newent was not seen alone with a gentleman for the final part of her journey.
Lord Barkby would escort Lady Dembleby and Mrs Goodworth.
Rather conscious that they had been poor ensemble company, both putative couples made sure that Miss Newent and Mrs Goodworth were part of the indoor conversation, and at just after nine of the clock the party headed homeward, parting in Great Pulteney Street with appropriate thanks being given and received.
Louisa was aware of a warmth that had nothing to do with the May evening, and felt slightly light-headed as well as light-hearted.
She was happy to walk, her arm laid upon the scarlet sleeve, and, dismissing the Dowager Lady Dembleby, to bask in the feeling that possessed her.
She and Lord Barkby did not talk, and it was as if Hetty Goodworth were invisible.
Louisa was quite regretful when he let her step ahead of him to the front door of the house.
When Leece opened the door, all her joy drained from her in an instant. His face was grave, and worried.
‘What is it, Leece? Some news from Berkshire? I …’
‘Betty asks that you go up to the nursery immediately, my lady. Miss Emily is rather unwell and …’ He got no further.
With a short cry, Louisa rushed into the house and up the stairs, dropping her gloves as she did so.
Lord Barkby, after a moment’s hesitation, followed.
There might be something he could do if there was an emergency, and 294Leece did not look like a man reporting a summer cold.
He took the stairs two at a time, and was thus right behind Louisa as she opened the nursery door.
Betty was leaning over the side of the cot, a wet cloth in her hand. She turned at the opening of the door, and presented a frightened, flushed face to her employer.
‘I am sorry, my lady. I thought at first it was just her tea did not settle, but she has got very hot, my lady, and has been ill several times since and now she is like a rag doll and …’ Betty burst into tears.
Louisa nearly pushed the nursemaid out of the way, and looked down into the cot, reaching out her hand to touch her daughter’s hot, dry forehead, though it needed no hand to tell she ran a fever.
‘Dear God, what if it is typhus or … oh Emily, my darling.’ There was a catch in her voice.
‘Look at me.’ Louisa turned, but Lord Barkby was addressing Betty. ‘You are not well either, are you.’ It was not a question. The young woman’s shoulders sagged, and her eyes were red and bloodshot, which could not be from a few tears.
‘I will be alright, my lord, I am sure.’ She did not sound it, and she sniffed, and gulped. He laid the back of his hand to her brow.
‘Whatever it is, they both have it,’ he said grimly. ‘Betty, listen to me. Emily cannot tell us how she feels, not properly, but you can. Tell me exactly.’ He took her by the arms and sat her on the high-backed chair in the room.
‘Oh, sir, I aches all over, and I am so very tired and … I thought it might be a cold yesterday eve, for my nose ran 295something awful and … I don’t want to eat and I have this cough now.’
‘You do not have stomach ache?’
‘No, my lord. Not as such, just aches all over.’
Lord Barkby turned to Louisa. ‘I have seen typhus, and I doubt it is that. Besides which, if typhus were in Bath, knowledge of it would spread faster than the epidemic itself.’
‘She needs a doctor. I do not know whom to consult, for there are many in Bath, and it is so late and …’ Louisa’s voice trembled.
‘Parry is sound. He came out to see my father, when we sought a second opinion, and he was a sensible man. He has rooms in The Circus. I will go immediately, but remember, I may be some time if he is out visiting a patient. In the meantime, have a bath part filled with lukewarm water, and place Emily in that if she is very hot, nightgown and all. I am no doctor, but I have seen many sorts of fever, and keeping the patient cool when burning and warm when shivering has proven a good regimen. Be positive, Lady Dembleby, and do not let your maternal emotions overcome you.’ He touched her hand before turning back to the maid.
‘And you, Betty, get to your bed, before you collapse in a heap.’
With which he was gone, and Louisa heard his rapid steps upon the stair.
It seemed forever before he returned. She had given instructions as he had told her, and when he entered the candlelit room, followed by the doctor, Louisa was kneeling on the floor beside a tin bath lined with cloths 296and with Emily lying in it like a large, pink-faced doll.
‘Ah, I see you are keeping the child from burning up. That is good, for an infant is sometimes prone to seizures when too febrile. My name is Parry, my lady, and from what I have heard from Lord Barkby, and what I know of contagion in Bath, I think I can tell you what is the likely ailment. There is measles about, for I have seen it. Once the rash appears, that and white spots within the mouth are proof, but until then it is the likely diagnosis.’
‘But it is a complaint of children, and the nursemaid seems to have it also, doctor.’ Louisa frowned.
‘It is a misconception that only children get the disease, based upon the fact that most people catch it when infants. Yet if a person does not have it when young, or perhaps very mildly, it is possible to catch it again when an adult. Have you had the measles, ma’am?’
‘I … I think so.’
‘I had them at school, for certain.’ Lord Barkby spoke from behind the doctor. He did not say that two boys died when it ravaged the dormitories. ‘It means I cannot spread it, yes?’
‘That is true, my lord.’
‘And what treatment would you prescribe?’ Louisa was telling herself that it could be much worse.
‘Good nursing. In all such cases, good nursing is the key. The illness will take its course, and the best that can be done is to limit the effect of the symptoms. In small children, it is convulsions that are to be most avoided, for although many are none the worse for them, they can have serious consequences. The other thing is to keep giving 297fluids, even a teaspoon of water at a time, for dehydration is our enemy.’
‘Will you see Betty, the nursemaid, before you depart, Dr Parry? And if there is any severe change, may I call you?’
‘At whatever hour, ma’am, though you must know fevers often seem worse at night by their own nature. I will call again tomorrow, though it will be a couple of days before any rash commences and we can be perfectly certain of the disease.’
‘Thank you. The nursemaid is laid upon her bed in the next room.’
‘Then I will take a look at her. These illnesses are unpleasant, Lady Dembleby, but most children emerge none the worse for them at the end, so despair not.’ Dr Parry sounded calm and assured.
It helped. He went to the adjacent chamber, leaving Louisa and Lord Barkby alone with Emily, who was whimpering, and tossing her head from side to side.
‘If there is anything I can do, you have but to ask it,’ he said, in a low voice.
‘You have already been a huge help, sir, keeping me from panic, and finding the doctor for me.’
‘Scarcely more than nothing.’
‘I know I can rely upon you for good counsel and … I do not feel so alone.’
‘You are not alone. Louisa.’ He dared use her name now there was nobody else present, and after their time in the gardens, though that happy hour felt a distant memory.
‘It is neither the time nor the place, but remember that you are 298not alone facing this, nor facing anything else, not while I draw breath. I will leave now, before the doctor. I add my words to his: despair not.’ He wanted so much to do more, but there was nothing for it but for him to leave.
‘I shall return tomorrow, to see how you all do, and will not be denied. Understood?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’
He left, and if for a moment Louisa did feel less supported, she then acknowledged that what he said was true. She was not alone, even if he were not in the house.
Lord Barkby left the house, but lingered along the street beneath a lamp, waiting to speak with the doctor when he left. He fell into step beside him.
‘Forgive me, Parry, but are you as sanguine about the case as you sounded before Lady Dembleby? You may be surprised at me taking such a close interest, but Lady Dembleby has become our close neighbour and her own family reside in Berkshire. My mother and I have, you might say, taken her under our wing.’ It was a lie, but it served a good purpose.
‘When I said I had the disease at school it was true, but I remember there were fatalities.’