Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Alistair knew that something was wrong the moment he arrived home from the theatre.
He spent the ride in a state of confusion, still thinking about what Lady Emily had said to him…
and what he should do about it. But those thoughts vanished when the carriage turned into the driveway, and he looked outside to see that the lights in his home were still on.
It was late in the evening, and while a few lamps might have been lit as the evening staff finished their chores, the fact that nearly every single one burned bright was troubling.
The carriage came to a stop, he climbed outside, and no sooner had his feet hit the dirt did the front door swing open. Rushing through it, her face demented with panic, was Miss Norleigh.
“Your Grace!” she cried out as she rushed toward him. “You must come quickly!!”
“Miss Norleigh…” A stone dropped in Alistair’s stomach. “Wh – what’s wrong? Is it Hugh? What happened?”
She reached him and took his hand. “I do not know. He was perfectly well when we ate supper. He seemed fine!” She started to drag him back toward the house.
“What is going on?” he demanded as the fear grew inside him. “Speak to me!”
They reached the front door, and Miss Norleigh turned back.
With the light coming from inside, it lit her face so that he saw it clearly for the first time.
This only increased the panic already surging through him.
Her eyes were red and glazed over, tears streamed down her cheeks, and her entire body trembled.
“He is sick,” she said as she continued to pull on his arm. “A fever of some kind.”
Alistair nodded his understanding and forced himself to be calm. “Take me to him.”
Miss Norleigh held onto his hand as she pulled him through the house.
It was a silly thing to think in the moment, but Alistair was surprised by how much comfort came from her presence.
Her hand wrapped in his, and despite the fear, there was a sense that so long as she was there, nothing could harm him.
They reached Hugh’s bedroom not long after.
Mrs. Fletcher was by Hugh’s bed, and she had on the stool beside her a bowl filled with water and a stack of washcloths. She dipped them in the bowl, rinsing them out, before applying them to Hugh’s forehead.
Hugh lay silently in bed. His eyes were closed. His skin was pale and drenched in sweat. And every few moments, a soft moan would escape his lips, and he would writhe as if in agony.
“Hugh…” Alistair fell to his knees by the boy’s bed. He took his hand, wincing to feel how cold and clammy it was… yet also, somehow warm. “I’m here, Hugh. I’m here.”
Hugh moaned, and his grip was so weak.
“What happened?” He spun about and glared at Mrs. Fletcher and Miss Norleigh as if this was somehow their fault. “How did this happen?”
“He was fine earlier,” Miss Norleigh explained. She stood back slightly, as if she was afraid to get too close. “There was no sense that anything was wrong.”
“There must have been something,” he growled.
“She speaks the truth.” Mrs. Fletcher stepped between them, almost as if she was protecting Miss Norleigh. “I saw young Hugh after supper, and he was well. The fever came on as he was readying for bed.”
He winced with shame. “I am sorry, I should not have…”
Alistair’s relationship with Hugh was not as sound as it might have been.
To the world, he was the boy’s father, and that alone was reason to care for him.
And he did care, too. Of that, there could be no doubt.
He had, after all, upended his entire life to protect the boy and give him the life that he deserved.
However, there was still an underlying tension between them, a gap which existed and refused to close. Their relationship was far from perfect, and even Alistair was unable to imagine where it might go. Or where he wanted it to go, for that matter.
In this moment, none of that mattered.
As he looked at the fever-stricken boy, as he gripped his hand and listened to him moan in pain, all the doubt that Alistair held onto faded and vanished as if it had never been. He cared for the boy… he even loved him.
“A doctor has been sent for.” Miss Norleigh came in behind him, and she gently rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Mrs. Fletcher…” Alistair took a deep breath because his body trembled and he did not want to look weak. “Wait downstairs for his arrival, thank you. And bring him here the second he arrives.”
“It will be done.” Mrs. Fletcher set down the washcloth that she was rinsing and hurried from the room.
Miss Norleigh was quick to pick up the washcloth. She squeezed the water out, removed the cloth already on Hugh’s forehead, and replaced it. Then she used another to dab gently at his face.
“You don’t have to…” Alistair watched her closely, noting how gentle she was with him. Just as he noticed the evident concern on her face. She was not his mother, but she cared for him as if she was.
“Please,” she said dismissively. “If you think I am going anywhere, then you do not know me at all.”
He laughed softly, if for no other reason than because he felt he must. “How did this happen? I don’t…”
“I am sure that it is only a fever. Perhaps something that he ate?”
“Likely…” He nodded his head, needing to believe it. “Tomorrow, he will be fine.”
“I know he will be.”
Alistair continued to nod in an effort to make it seem as if he believed her. But fear is what he felt, that niggling feeling that this was nowhere near as simple as he wanted it to seem.
“Don’t do that.” She turned and looked right at him.
“What?” He looked up and found her scowling at him.
“You know what.” Her expression was hard and no-nonsense. “I will not hear of it, is that understood? What Hugh needs right now is positivity, and I expect you, of all people, to give it.”
He held her eyes, just so that she could see how grateful he was. Alistair liked to think that he was strong, that he was confident and powerful. But at that moment, he had never felt so weak, and he needed Miss Norleigh’s support more than he could voice.
“Thank you,” he said softly, turning again to look at Hugh. “For everything.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her smile.
The doctor arrived shortly after. He ordered them to the back of the room so that he could observe and treat Hugh, but Alistair refused to let go of his hand.
“What’s happened to him?” Alistair demanded after many minutes of the doctor fussing over him. “Well?!” he barked.
The doctor wore a pair of half-moon glasses, and he looked over them in rebuke.
“The good news is that it is just a fever.” Alistair exhaled with relief.
“He is in the worst of it now, but it should break within the next twelve hours. After which, a few days of bedrest, plenty of liquids and food, and he will be fine.”
“And the bad news?”
The doctor sighed and looked pitifully at Hugh. “The next twelve hours will not be easy on the poor boy. Not even a little bit.”
The doctor left them quickly after that, after confirming once again that Hugh needed to be kept cool until his fever broke, and that it was imperative that someone stay with him throughout the night.
Alistair was more than up to the task.
“Mrs. Fletcher, you can retire for the evening.” He pulled up a chair beside Hugh’s head. “No sense in both of us getting no sleep tonight.”
“Are you sure, Your Grace?” she asked.
“Very.” He offered her a grateful smile. “You’ve done all you can.”
“I’m staying too.” Miss Norleigh grabbed hold of the settee by the end of Hugh’s bed and dragged it beside Alistair’s chair.
“Miss Norleigh, there is no need –”
“Do not even think about telling me to go to bed.” She sat down, crossed her arms over her chest, and fixed him in a look that warranted no argument. “If you want me gone, you will have to drag me out.”
Alistair didn’t try to hide his smile, nor did he try to hide his relief. He let it shine, which was answer enough for Miss Norleigh. She stood up and collected the bowl of water and the washcloths, then she sat herself back down, rinsing them out, and dabbing again at Hugh’s head and body.
And Alistair watched her in silence, not caring that he stared.
H