Chapter 16
The fever was entirely unexpected.
We found out late next morning, going on noon, when Alexander went up to send a breakfast tray to Edmund. When he returned downstairs, his face was grave.
“He’s fallen ill,” Alexander announced.
I stood from my seat at the dining table. “Ill? From a fractured ankle?”
Maddox shoveled the rest of his oats into his mouth. The dining room was dimly lit by a witchlight lantern suspended over the table, throwing a pinkish glow over the furniture. “Is he going to die?” he asked through a full mouth.
“Of course not!” I said, even as the same morbid thought crossed my mind. Good heavens. The consequences of Edmund’s death would be heavy indeed. I could already see the headlines: Son of the illustrious Mr. Walter de Clare MURDERED during visit to underground witch den!
I wiped my mouth with a napkin and rushed upstairs to Edmund’s room. It was nearly pitch black inside, save for the candle lit on his bedside table. Edmund’s face was pale, shrouded in shadow. Beads of sweat dotted his brow. His eyelids moved slightly at my entrance.
Seeing him this way felt oddly intimate—and terrifying.
“Edmund?” I asked, softly stepping into the room. “Are you alright?”
It was a stupid thing to ask. Of course he wasn’t alright.
“Water,” Edmund whispered hoarsely.
I fumbled for the pitcher at his bedside, nearly knocking over the candle in the process. I poured him a cup and awkwardly brought it to his lips. Edmund bent his chin to drink, but even that simple act seemed difficult for him.
Forgoing propriety, I pressed the back of my hand against his forehead.
“You have a fever,” I said, alarmed.
He only grunted.
I quickly poured more water into the small washbasin on the side and drenched a hand towel.
As I pressed the damp towel to his forehead, I couldn’t help but think that I was severely underqualified for this job.
I was a charmwitch who sewed ball gowns.
Taking care of ill emissaries was entirely beyond my expertise!
“Rest,” I told Edmund. Another unhelpful comment. “I’ll get someone to help you.”
He didn’t respond. Either he was too tired or he was no longer conscious.
“Blazing fires,” I cursed.
Alexander set off shortly after I told him to fetch an herbwitch physician. Maddox sat in the parlor with Gio, who grew upset after I refused to tell him what happened. Children were notoriously loose-lipped—it’d be best if this turn of events was left secret to as many people as possible.
When the front door creaked open, Alexander entered with someone in tow. I started when I recognized Beatrice, wrapped in her usual brown shawl.
“Who’s sick?” Beatrice asked as she left her shoes by the door. “Is it Gio?”
I stood up, suppressing a groan.
Why did Alexander have to choose Beatrice of all witches? Never mind that she was the closest herbwitch to us. The woman was nearly as big of a gossip as Ma, which made sense, since she was friends with Ma.
“It’s someone else,” Alexander said to her sheepishly.
I shot him a glare.
He shrugged, as if we had no other choice but to expose the presence of a human stranger to a notoriously old-fashioned witch.
“Someone else?” Beatrice asked. “Who?”
I stepped in. “A friend of mine,” I said stiffly. “He’s visiting.”
Alexander opened his mouth to elaborate, but I cut him off.
“He’s upstairs, if you please,” I said, helping Beatrice with her kit of potions and remedies.
Beatrice looked bewildered as I ushered her up the stairs as fast as someone her age could go in the dark.
“A friend you say?” she asked, shuffling up the steps. “Is it that handsome blond fellow I saw through the windows yesterday?”
She was peeking through windows too. Just lovely.
“No, Beatrice, it’s someone else,” I said. We stopped before Edmund’s door again. “He has a burning fever and a fractured ankle. I don’t know what else is wrong with him, but please find out and fix it as soon as possible.”
Beatrice raised her brows. “My, you must really care about this friend of yours. Is he someone special?”
I bit my lip before I said something impolite. “Not in the way you think!”
Before she could ask any more prying questions, I turned and trotted back down the stairs.
***
“ANY GOOD NEWS?” ALEXANDER asked when Beatrice came down.
Her face was impassive as she entered the dining room and accepted the tea Alexander offered her. She took a sip, then set the cup down with a clatter. “You didn’t tell me he was a human,” she said, shooting an accusing look at me. “And I suppose that other fellow I saw is a human too?”
I merely pressed my lips together.
“I am very disappointed in you, Giselle! When your mother hears about this she’ll—” Beatrice gave a start when Maddox entered with Gio in tow. She looked at their conjoined hands in horror.
“Gio, don’t touch that strange man!” Beatrice cried. “You don’t know what diseases he carries!”
Maddox’s mouth parted, as if he couldn’t quite believe the insult he had just been dealt. He let go of Gio’s hand. “It was dark. I was just making sure he didn’t trip.”
Beatrice wrinkled her lips as if she tasted something sour.
Alexander cleared his throat. “Beatrice. News?”
She exhaled and took another gulp of tea. “I have rebandaged his ankle and applied a stronger healing balm specifically for fractured bones. It should be healed within a week. His fever, however...”
“What is it?” I asked impatiently.
“He has most likely caught something due to his vulnerable state. I do not know what he has caught, but judging from his current symptoms, which seem common enough, he’ll survive,” Beatrice said. “However, he must be quarantined in case he is contagious.”
“Contagious?” I asked, disbelieving. Edmund had a broken ankle, not a disease! “Surely there are potions to make him better. He only has two weeks here, he has to recover!”
Beatrice sighed. “A witch’s healing potion works best on witches, dear. Humans take longer to heal, even with the help of magic. I’ll do what I can, but it is unlikely he’ll get better as quickly as you want him to.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Of course. Nothing was going as planned.
Alexander worried his lip. “If there’s a chance Edmund is contagious...perhaps it is best to move him to a more isolated place. Somewhere well-stocked with healing potions?”
Beatrice’s eyes widened when Alexander looked at her meaningfully. “My cottage? Certainly not!”
The next thirty minutes were spent arguing back and forth about whether Beatrice should take Edmund to her cottage. As I was about to jump in and argue that Edmund shouldn’t be moved at all, Maddox took Gio’s hand, then mine, and walked us both out of the dining room into the hallway.
Gio climbed onto a tall stool pushed against the wall.
“What’s going on?” he asked, swinging his feet back and forth from his perch.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Maddox said, patting the boy’s shoulder affectionately. He was surprisingly good with children. “Do you want to play cards?”
Gio nodded enthusiastically.
“Go to the parlor and get some. I’ll show you one of my favorite games,” Maddox said.
“Okay!” Gio stood and trotted to the parlor.
“This is hardly the time to play games,” I said, when Gio disappeared into the other room.
“There aren’t any cards in the parlor.” Maddox pulled a card-shaped packet out of his waistcoat pocket and let it drop back in.
“Are you stealing now?”
“I’m not stealing! These are mine.”
I threw up my hands. “Why did you drag me out here? I need to handle whatever is going on in the dining room.” I attempted to side step him, but Maddox blocked me.
“You don’t need to handle everything, Giselle,” he said.
“That’s ridiculous! Of course I do!”
“Would it be such a bad thing for Edmund to go with Beatrice?” he asked. “His condition is delicate and it seems like he needs supervision. Plus...I think we’re intruding on Alexander.”
“He agreed to house us!”
“He didn’t agree to taking care of a sick man, especially amidst weather problems,” Maddox said. “We should let Edmund recover someplace else.”
I wanted to argue with him, but deep down I knew he was right. We had asked Alexander for more things than I had intended. It was meant to be an easy stay, just food and lodging. But the list had grown to food, lodging, secrecy, caretaking a sick man who may or may not be contagious...
“Fine,” I said, slumping into the stool Gio had sat on earlier. “Then what do you suppose we do? Stay here until our emissary recovers? And what about the weather?”
“I suppose we’ll have to find out what's wrong,” Maddox said.
I dragged a hand over my face. “You know, it’s unlikely Beatrice would even take Edmund.”
At that moment, the dining room door swung open and Beatrice stepped out. “I’ll take him,” she announced.