Chapter 26
“Is everything all right with him, Betsy?” Elara asked in a worried tone.
“He spiked a fever a little while ago,” Betsy hurriedly explained. “I have been trying to bring it down with cool water, but it will not go down! I was heading to the kitchens to acquire some herbs that will hopefully help.”
Urgency shot through Elara’s heart as she shared a worried glance with Constantine, and they both hurried away.
“Bring the herbs!” Constantine called over his shoulder. “Quickly!”
Together they raced up the stairs, Elara’s heart pounding as they began to hear William’s pain-filled cries all the way from his room.
“What has caused this?” Constantine demanded as they finally reached the baby. His wet nurse was holding him, making soothing sounds as she bounced him lightly.
“I do not know for sure, Your Grace,” the wet nurse replied, her tone desperate as Elara hurried to her and William.
“Give him to me,” Elara said, her tone a mixture of command and plea.
The wet nurse handed William over to her without protest, and Elara cradled him tightly to her. Her worry intensified as she immediately felt the heat radiating from the poor boy.
“It is all right, darling, easy,” she cooed, rocking him. “I am here.”
As if William understood her, his cries softened. Still, his little mouth quivered as he frowned, tears still pouring down the cheeks she loved to kiss.
“We are here,” Constantine said, his voice gentle as she felt him put a hand on her shoulder.
Elara looked up and saw Constantine’s affection for the boy glittering in his green eyes. She did her best to give him a smile, then turned her face back to William.
“Tell us of his evening,” Constantine demanded of the wet nurse. “When he ate, what you ate. When this started. All of it.”
“I do not believe I ate anything out of the ordinary, Your Grace,” she replied, gripping her hands together in front of her chest. “As for the little lord, I fed him at his usual time of eight o’clock with no troubles.
He fell asleep as he usually did. I promise you, nothing seemed out of the ordinary until he woke up crying a little while ago! Oh, dear, what is to be done now!”
“Calm yourself,” Elara urged calmly, sparing a kind glance toward the wet nurse and then a slight warning glance up at Constantine, who looked ready to strangle anyone who dared hurt his nephew.
The moment he saw her face, though, some of that rage dissipated, and he drew a sharp inhale through his nostrils.
“No one is blaming you,” she said, turning back to the wet nurse. “I am sure there is a reasonable explanation for this.”
As she said so, the nanny came hurrying back in with a dark brown glass bottle and dropper. A look came over her face, as if she was both startled and pleased that the Duke and Duchess had come to see the baby. Then William let out a high-pitched cry, and the woman moved into action.
“Betsy,” Constantine said, his tone calmer now. “I have brought you on because you have raised several babies. Can you tell us what ails poor William?”
“I surmise that our young master is going through another growth spurt,” she explained, drawing some of the brown liquid atop her left pointer finger.
“His teeth started to come in months ago; however, it can be a long process. I have seen children as old as three struggle with budding teeth. It is a painful process that not only causes discomfort but sparks a fever.”
“I see. So what can we do?” Elara asked.
“Hold him still for me, Your Grace?” Betsy asked, approaching.
Elara stopped rocking William immediately and tilted him away from her chest just enough for Betsy to reach his mouth. She and Constantine both watched as Betsy gently brushed her finger over William’s gums; his instinct to cry made it easy.
“What is it you are giving him?” Constantine asked.
“A concentrate of willow bark, Your Grace,” Betsy answered, wiping her hands on her apron. “It will help fight the fever and ease the pain. We must be careful with it, though. He is still very small and cannot have too much.”
“Is he going to be all right, then?” Elara asked.
“Yes, I can take him now, Your Grace,” Betsy said when she finished cleaning her hands. She held them out to Elara expectantly, but Elara only drew William closer to her chest, not wanting to let go of him yet.
“We will take over his care for the night,” Constantine commanded, his tone gentle but firm. “Give me the instructions for the willow bark, then you two may be dismissed. We shall ring for you if you are needed.”
Both women, especially Betsy, looked reluctant to leave the baby. After a moment of hesitation, though, she began giving Constantine instructions for the medicine. Elara watched as he stared intensely at Betsy as she issued the orders, as if he was being told the most sacred secret.
After he listened, he repeated it back to her for confirmation. When Betsy was satisfied, she gave him a stiff nod, leaned down to place a kiss atop William’s head, and then she and the wet nurse left.
“Look,” Elara sighed, drawing her full attention to William. “He is already starting to calm down.”
Relief flooded through Elara as she saw such evidence. Heat still radiated from the baby, but William’s cries had quieted a little, and he was not squirming as much.
“That is because he is a strong lad,” Constantine replied, placing his large hand across William’s tummy. “Are you not, boy? Are you not my strong lad?”
As if William understood, he let out a cooing sound, followed by a sigh of relief as his tears finally stopped.
Elara felt her heart swell and quiver upon seeing Constantine’s paternal nature shine through his usually gruff exterior, and again, she realized that her initial disdain for him was shifting into affection.
“Let us take him to your chambers,” Constantine suggested, looking from William to Elara. “It faces the east, so the air is cooler.”
Elara offered no questions or argument to Constantine’s suggestion. She was not sure whether what he said about the east and such was true, but she also did not quite care. She just wanted William to feel better.
The first night was long.
They took turns holding William, one resting in the chair by the fireplace while the other walked slow, steady circles around the room with the baby pressed against their chest. Constantine administered the willow bark at the intervals Betsy had instructed, with a concentration that Elara found both reassuring and quietly moving.
When it was Elara’s turn to rest, he took William from her arms without a word and waved her toward the chair.
However, she did not sleep. She watched him instead, this man she had once been so certain she despised, pacing the room in his shirtsleeves with a feverish baby tucked against his shoulder, and she realized that her feelings had changed.
She loved them. Both of them. It had been growing for weeks, perhaps from the moment Constantine had fed her piece by piece at their wedding breakfast, perhaps from the first time William had curled his small fist around her finger. She had simply been too stubborn to accept it.
And in four days, Augustus will arrive, and it will all be over.
The fever broke on the morning of the second day.
“We did it,” Constantine whispered.
A weary smile drew across Elara’s face as she reached for the sleeping baby lying between them on her bed and softly caressed his cheek.
It was nearing dawn, she suspected, but they had finally broken William’s fever, and now he was deep asleep, his soft little breaths making ‘ah’ sounds through his parted lips.
“We did indeed,” Elara whispered back, letting her head rest against the pillow.
Constantine followed suit, lying on the other side of the baby. Their eyes met, and Elara felt her heart swell.
“This was not what I had planned when I mentioned we should share a bed,” Constantine whispered, a handsome grin spreading across his lips.
Elara let out a soft giggle as she shook her head.
“Me neither,” she whispered, her gaze dipping back down to the sleeping baby. “But I must admit I still quite like it.”
She put her hand gently on William’s stomach, feeling his deep, even breaths move in and out. Then Constantine’s hand so very gently caressed the top of hers, and she looked back up at him. The look of fondness in his green eyes was so evident that it made a lump of emotion appear in her throat.
“As do I,” he whispered, then leaned forward. Elara met him halfway, their upper bodies hovering above William so their lips could meet. Constantine’s kiss was slow and full of affection; the sweetness of it made her sigh softly when they parted.
“He is safe now,” Constantine whispered, settling back down into his pillow. “Thank you.”
Elara looked across at him. “For what?”
“For not leaving him with the nanny,” he said simply. “For staying.”
Elara felt the lump rise in her throat before she could stop it, and she pressed her lips together and looked back down at William so Constantine would not see.
“I could not have done otherwise,” she said, when she trusted her voice again. “He is mine. For now, at least.”
“He is not going anywhere. You should get some rest while he sleeps. We both should.”
Feeling the excitement, pleasure, fear, and overall exhaustion of the last two days pulling her back down to her own pillow, Elara only nodded in agreement as she closed her eyes.
The soothing call of sleep rushed to her quickly. Yet as she reached the border between slumber and wakefulness, she realized it was a cruel twist of fate. Just when she found herself loving them the most, her time—not only with Constantine but with William—would be coming to an end.