Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
J uliet felt that she was waking from the deepest, darkest slumber. Like she was swimming towards the light from the depths of a stygian lake.
At first, she was blind, unable to open her eyes. She smelled fire and the tang of soap. Then, she detected the aroma of Horatio's musky cologne. A masculine scent with wood overlaid with a hint of spice. His deep, regular breathing was next.
She opened her eyes.
The room was dimly lit by the faltering light of smoldering logs. Horatio sat in a chair beside her, sleeping. His face was pale and there was a blanket over his knees. Another man slept stretched out before the hearth, his coat folded for a pillow, hands clasped on his chest.
“Where am I?” Juliet croaked.
Her throat was dry, she had not realized until she had tried to speak. Horatio stirred, eyes flickering. The man by the hearth came awake instantly, bolting upright.
“Miss Semphill, you are awake!” He raced over to her bedside. “My, my, your color has improved dramatically. How do you feel?”
Juliet examined her feelings carefully, so accustomed was she to feeling tired and unwell. Something within her had changed though. There was an energy she had not possessed for a long time. A sense of wellness and wakefulness.
She felt… refreshed .
A smile broke across her face and the stranger beamed in return as he rose to his full height.
“I feel hungry and thirsty, but otherwise, I feel... well. I remember feeling very very tired. As though I were about to die. I thought I was dying, but now…”
The stranger picked up a tray and brought it over. On it was a plate of bread and cheese with a jug of milk. It all appeared utterly delicious to Juliet. But she looked to Horatio before eating.
“Is he well?” she asked.
“Just tired. He gave quite a lot of himself to restore you,” the stranger said.
He had a metal instrument in his hand, resembling a horn.
“May I listen to your heart, Miss Semphill?”
“Who are you? And where are we?” she asked.
“I am Doctor Malcolm Carmichael. You are in a room of the Swan Inn at Carlisle. Your fiancée came to find me in fear of your life. And rightly so. If I had not reached you when I did, I think you may have breathed your last.”
“Carmichael…?” Juliet said wonderingly. “My mother was treated by a Doctor Carmichael...”
“My father! He knew too little about her condition to save her, I gather. But from his notes and my own research, I believe we will fare better.”
“So, am I... cured?” Juliet whispered this last, unable to quite believe it.
Malcolm had pressed the cold metal horn to her chest and was listening intently. Then he shifted its position and listened again. Finally, he pressed two fingers against her left wrist and consulted his pocket watch for a moment.
“Cured? I am afraid not. His Grace gave his blood to restore you, to give you the strength to fight. I have a medication that my father devised. It will stave off the symptoms while you are taking it. Your lifespan will be dictated by the supply of the medicine.”
Juliet was amazed. She was not cured but if she was understanding Malcolm fully, she was all but cured. Provided she took the medicine he gave her. The only question left was...
“And how much of this medicine do you have?”
Malcolm smiled ruefully. “Very perceptive. My father manufactured it using some very rare ingredients. I have enough for two years, I believe. Possibly three.”
Juliet felt crestfallen. She could not help but think that two or three years might not be long enough to be happy with Horatio and to give him a child. For then she would be gone and he would be mourning. She shook her head suddenly.
“No,” she said aloud, “I will not live in fear of death. I will live for today, not for what might happen tomorrow.”
Malcolm smiled. “An admirable philosophy, Miss Semphill. One I wholeheartedly endorse. I have known grief after losing my beloved wife. I would consider it a betrayal of her memory for me to wallow in grief. Besides, there is hope.”
“There is?” Juliet said, looking at Horatio, wishing he would wake.
Malcolm followed her gaze and lowered his voice.
“We should not wake him until he is ready. The procedure sapped a great deal of his strength.”
Juliet nodded. She pushed herself up in bed, putting her pillows behind her back and pulling the tray towards her.
“Do you mind if I eat while you tell me what hope we have? I apologize for being brusque, but I am simply ravenous.”
“I insist,” Malcolm smiled.
Juliet helped herself to a brimming cup of milk, then cut herself a chunk of cheese to take with a piece of bread.
“The hope to which I referred is that I have my father's notes on the production of the medicine. I believe I can reproduce his work and make more of the medicine. Provided I can source the key ingredient. That has, so far, been beyond my means.”
“Where is it to be found?” Juliet asked, taking another mouthful.
“In a remote region of the southern American continent. An area of jungle reached only by weeks of travel upriver along a tributary of the Amazon. My father made the expedition and returned, though the malaria he contracted there eventually killed him. Such an expedition is expensive, and I have not been able to raise the funds to attempt it. No other sufferer of what I have called Carmichael Syndrome has been found. I did not know of your existence until His Grace arrived at my door. It is hard to raise funds when there appear to be no victims.”
“If it is funds that you seek Doctor, you will have them,” Horatio murmured drowsily.
Juliet jumped. Malcolm turned a beaming smile on Horatio who was stretching in his chair, rubbing at bleary eyes.
“Your Grace! You are back with us. Please help yourself to food, you will need it.”
Horatio ran a hand through his hair and gave a rather lengthy yawn. He was looking at Juliet and there was astonishment on his face.
“You look... renewed,” he breathed. “You are radiant.”
He made to rise but then fell back. He looked ashen. Juliet quite nearly jumped from the bed as she went to him.
“Do not attempt to do too much, Your Grace. You simply do not have the strength. It will come back over time as your body replaces the blood you have lost,” Malcolm noted.
“I heard what you said to Juliet about your father's medication. Begin planning your expedition. Ravenscourt will fund everything. A large enough expedition so that we will not run out of this medication in our lifetime,” Horatio said firmly. “For my wife, and for every other sufferer out there who may require it. Until a permanent cure has been found.”
Juliet threw her arms about Horatio, hugging him tightly, not wanting to miss a moment with him. Malcolm was struggling to keep a broad smile at bay. He looked like a man who had just been granted his heart's desire.
“Truly?” he whispered.
“ Truly . Do you think I will let something like money stand between my wife-to-be and a long life?”
“It will be expensive,” Malcolm cautioned.
“I imagine it will. Alas, expense is not my concern. Go make your plans, doctor,” Horatio finished determinedly.
“I will. I will!” Malcolm enthused. “But first, I have a supply of the medicine here. It is sufficient for three months and is to be taken daily. Once a day.”
He produced a small tin and removed the lid. Within were a collection of tiny pills, white and chalky in appearance. Juliet took the tin, examining the pills tentatively. She showed them to Horatio who looked at Malcolm with narrowed eyes.
“Forgive our wariness, but we have both recently been on the receiving end of an attempt to control us through the application of… medicine ...” Horatio said.
Malcolm took one of the pills and swallowed it, opening his mouth to show that it was empty.
“It has no ill effect on someone not suffering from Carmichael's Syndrome. You now have eighty-nine days’ worth of doses, Miss Semphill,” he said.
Taking a deep breath, she took a pill, tossing her head back to swallow.
“You won't feel any different, but you will not feel a return of your symptoms either. If my father's research proves correct. Now, I sense that you wish to be alone and I have a great deal of preparations to make. If you will excuse me.”
Malcolm took his leave and Juliet was alone with Horatio once more. She settled herself on his lap and nuzzled her lips against his neck. He put his arms about her, holding her tightly.
“I thought I had lost you,” Horatio whispered.
“I thought so too. I was ready,” Juliet murmured back, “I had no more strength left to fight with. I wanted my last moments to be in your arms. You… saved me.”
Horatio shook his head. “Doctor Carmichael saved you. His invention and quick thinking,”
“But you found him,” Juliet insisted, “you brought him to me. I love you.”
It was the first time she had said so to him. The first time either of them had said it to the other.
Juliet lifted her head to gaze into Horatio's eyes, stroking the side of his face. She marveled at his beauty. Such intoxicating handsomeness. The very paragon of masculinity. Strong, dark at times, powerful but gentle. A protector and a lover. A husband? She wanted him to be. A father? She wanted that too and the thought of carrying his children filled her with a combination of longing and irresistible desire.
“And I love you,” Horatio said simply.
He did not try to woo her with poetry or elaborate speeches on the subject of her beauty or virtues. Those four words were all she needed to hear. She embraced them, reveling in the significance of them. She knew that his love might mean that one day he would be stricken by grief at her loss. That grief might leave him a shadow of the man she had loved. But that fear no longer ruled her. She had lived her life based on its dictates for long enough. Now, she simply took to her heart the fact that she was loved by a man that she loved in return.
She kissed him, softly and slowly, savoring each moment. She tried to commit to memory each sensation of touch. The warmth of his lips, their softness and hardness which waxed and waned. The scent of him and the feel of his hands upon her body. Hands that seemed to be possessive, as though he was touching property that belonged to him and was enjoying the fact of his possession.
She trailed her fingers down his neck and beneath his unlaced shirt. Curling her fingers, she let her nails run down through the hair on his chest, pulling at the laces of his shirt as she moved her hand downward. She lowered her head to kiss his neck, biting softly, tasting rather than trying to leave a mark. Then she kissed his chest, pulling the shirt wider to accommodate her mouth. Her tongue traced a path across iron-hard pectoral muscles as her hands ran down his flanks over the shirt, ending at his waist. She could feel his hardness as she wriggled against him, her thighs rubbing against his growing manhood.
“ Juliet… ” Horatio moaned her name and the sound was pure joy.
It was pleasure and sensuality personified, making Juliet squirm. She rose, taking his hand as she went to the bed, leading him after her. Horatio followed, tugging his shirt up over his head and tossing it aside. Juliet knelt on the bed, moving back to give him room. Horatio lay down and Juliet lay next to him, one hand resting on his chest.
Moments later, she heard his breathing deepen. Looking up, she saw that he had fallen fast asleep. She giggled to herself. After whatever had been done to save her, she felt wide awake and full of energy. Part of her wanted nothing more than to lay with Horatio while he slept. But she could not. She had too much energy to release, to burn off.
Then she thought of the other reason for Horatio to come to Carlisle. The reason that Juliet knew of but had not spoken with Horatio about. A lady who Horatio had known as Jane Ainsworth . A lady he had once loved.
Juliet sat up. It would be wrong to involve herself, to seek out Jane Bonel nee Ainsworth. What would it achieve? Did she want to warn off a potential rival? That was not in her nature.
But the more she thought on it, the more she could not rest. She had to talk to this woman. Did she still love Horatio? Did she want to be reconciled with him? And if so, how did he feel about her? Once upon a time, Juliet would have assumed that Horatio would choose another over her. She would have gone to Jane to persuade her to try and win Horatio back. Just so that Horatio would not spend his life alone and mourning. Now, Juliet wanted Horatio, wanted the happiness that they could bring to each other. She would not skip over her life in order to plan for her death.
She got up and dressed quickly and quietly. She kissed Horatio's forehead after writing a quick note at the bureau and leaving it on the bedside table. Then she left the room. She remembered the return address on the letter from Jane to Horatio. The innkeeper would tell her how to find that address and she would finally speak to Jane Bonel, and help them both receive the closure they deserved.