Chapter 22
4 th August 1815
Georgiana held her breath and winced while Charles coughed and coughed. Would this ever end? The fever still raged, and it was all she and Jennings could do to keep his temperature managed. Between the willow bark tea and cool, damp cloths, they had kept it from becoming too elevated, and when they worried it would become so, they had helped Charles to the tub for cold baths where he shivered while they continued to sponge the water over his head. When he finally ceased the coughing fit, Jennings helped lean Charles back onto the pillows.
“He cannot continue thus,” said the valet.
“Yet, he must until the fever breaks. Today, the willow bark seems to be keeping him from becoming too heated. I just wish the cough would subside. His rest is fitful as a result. He needs sleep if he is to recover.”
Charles’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at seeing her. “Do we still have a houseful of guests?”
“We do indeed, but Jennings is here to ensure you do not hasten downstairs to see to their comfort.” She mentioned the valet because otherwise, in those moments when Jennings was not present and Charles woke, her husband would tease her about ridding themselves of guests so they could kiss and be completely improper in every public room of the house. The number of times she had blushed at the mention! Her cheeks had to be stained pink.
He laughed weakly. “I do love to entertain,” he signed.
He gave a wracking hack and grimaced. “I am fatigued of coughing.”
“I am sure it is tiresome, but while you are awake, you are in need of willow bark to keep the fever at bay. After, I have the tonic for the cough and some broth.” She held a cup to his lips.
His face twisted when he swallowed the warm liquid. She could not blame him. Willow bark was always bitter, no matter how it was prepared. He made a similar expression when she spooned the tonic in his mouth, then swallowed greedily at the warm broth as though ridding himself of the awful flavour. Thankfully, she had given the broth time to cool!
“I wish to be done with these remedies and tinctures. They are vile and do little to make me feel better.”
“You do not know that.”
His gaze held hers with a steadiness he only used when truly serious. “ No more. I beg of you. I do not wish to die as yet—we have just wed, after all—but I cannot abide more. ”
Too many times to count, she had cried since his accident, and now her traitorous eyes filled once again with tears, blurring her vision. “I want you well so we can be together.”
He glanced to where his valet sat on the opposite side of the bed and made a gesture that caused Jennings to leave. “We are together and alone now,” he signed. “Allow me to hold you.”
She pressed herself to his side, her head upon his chest. His heart beat strong against her ear, which caused some of her disquiet to melt away. The beat was rapid for one lying in bed, however.
He coughed, and she made to rise, but he held her tight against him. The fit did not last long this time, and after, his thumb rubbed circles on her shoulder once again.
After a time, his breathing evened out, and he slept, and it was all she could do not to weep once more. What would she do if this did not subside, and the worst came to be? She needed him. Without an heir, the earldom would revert to the crown, and Henry would gain Bathwick Abbey, as it had been a gift to Simon from his father. Henry would, no doubt, allow her to live there if she wished, but it would not be the same without her husband. No matter the brevity of their marriage, she could not live here without him, even if the child Lizzy believed she carried was a fact and a boy. It would be too painful—a reminder of an unfulfilled vow.
She breathed and relaxed against him while she prayed to God for him to be well. Not long after, everything faded, and she found herself walking near the river with Charles and a boy with the same hazel eyes who held their hands and would swing between them while laughing riotously.
When Charles bent to kiss her, she woke with a start. She sat up and glanced around the bedchamber. It had been so real. A sharp pain ripped through her chest. It had been a dream. How she wished for that very scene to occur in reality!
8 th August 1815
Georgiana woke with a start and sat up in bed. She glanced down at her nightgown and paused. Why was she soaked through?
She pressed her hand to Charles’s forehead. Thank God! It was cool. She cradled his cheeks in her hands, then smoothed his wet hair from his brow before she covered her mouth and wept. How she had any tears left was a question she asked herself often enough. She had cried pailfuls of tears since Charles had been swept away by the river, and somehow, she still cried.
Two days ago, when he had refused any further willow bark or tonics, she had panicked. How could he survive when his fever would rage so without them? And what of the horrible, wracking cough? To the surprise of all and sundry, he seemed to improve steadily afterwards. She could not credit it.
With a gasp, her husband’s entire body flinched. “ I am wet ,” he said aloud.
Her fingers trembled as she lit a couple of candles to give him enough light to see her hands. “Your fever broke. I shall fetch Jennings to help change you.”
During Charles’s illness, Jennings had either slept in a chair in his master’s room or on a cot in the dressing room. As soon as Georgiana and Charles were married, Jennings had not spent another night in Charles’s bedchamber, giving them privacy to sleep through the night. After all, they no longer required a chaperon.
The moment the door opened, Jennings sat up. “What is wrong?”
“His fever broke, and his nightgown and the bed are damp.”
“Thank heavens,” said the valet as he rose. “He could not continue as he was for much longer.”
“I agree.”
Charles was exceedingly weak, but they managed to change his nightshirt and move him to sit in a chair so they could remove the sheets.
Jennings ran a hand over what was beneath. “The mattress itself is wet. It will need to remain uncovered so it may dry. We do not want it to mould.”
“What of the mistress’s chambers? I know Mrs. Grant said if I wanted to redecorate I could, but I have done no more than walk through to the dressing room. Is the bed in good condition?”
“Before you were wed, Mrs. Grant had the mattress exchanged for a new one from one of the guest rooms. I am certain the bed should be comfortable. She said the wall coverings have not been changed in at least ten years. She was not sure if you would prefer more fashionable ones. But that can wait. As it is, the solution is a good one.”
He hurried around her and into the mistress’s bedchamber. As soon as he returned, he moved to help Charles from the chair. “The bed is turned down. Once he is settled, I shall open the doors and air out the room. The night is a pleasant one.”
While Jennings helped situate Charles in the bed, Georgiana opened the doors to the balcony of the mistress’s suite and stepped outside. The valet was correct: the air was not overly warm or humid, and stars lit up the night sky in a stunning tableau.
When she re-entered the room, Charles was sitting amongst the pillows watching her. “Leave the doors open. The breeze is nice.”
He held out an arm, and she climbed in beside him. “I love you,” she signed before cuddling to his side.
“ I love you too.”
Charles slept within minutes while she lay with her head upon his chest once again. Her heart calmed with the steady beating of his heart beneath her ear, yet her legs twitched to walk—to remove herself from this bed and relieve the restlessness lurking within. One would assume her to be relieved by Charles’s recovery, and it was true: a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. But now that he would surely be well, she could not settle.
She slipped from his side, put on her dressing gown, and grabbed a chamberstick. Without a destination in mind, she slipped from the room and wandered. The public rooms of the house were almost eery without light and people. She paused in the library at a portrait of a young Charles over the mantel. Henry had indicated the work had been brought from Clitheroe not long after Charles had become master. He was a young man without the burdens life had thrust upon him—a young man with an open world before him.
“Georgiana?”
She whirled about at Fitzwilliam’s voice. “What are you doing awake?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“Charles’s fever broke.”
A long exhale flowed from her brother. “That is excellent news, but it does not explain your presence in the library.”
“After we had him settled, I could not sleep. I cannot explain why, but I needed to walk.”
Fitzwilliam nodded and stepped closer. “I had a similar experience after each of the children were born. As you are well aware, childbirth can be dangerous, and I pushed my worry down deep so I would not make Elizabeth annoyed with my hovering. Once all was well and Alexander and Sophie were born, I found myself in a similar state as you at the moment—unable to settle. I wandered Pemberley and finally fell asleep in my study. I had decided that if I was awake, I may as well work on my ledgers. It was Mrs. Reynolds who found me the next morning. I had spent the night with my head upon the open book. The numbers I had last written were indelibly printed on my cheek, and I suffered from a fearsome headache as well as a stiff neck.”
She smiled and tilted her head. “So we are not so dissimilar then?”
“It seems not, although you have had more sense than to pen notes then fall asleep on the fresh ink.” Fitzwilliam chuckled. “You and I both share our father’s reserve. We have always known that, but I suppose, like him, we have also bound ourselves to someone we feel we cannot live without. I have come to understand that the restlessness is a certain relief combined with the realisation that we almost or could have lost that one person who makes us whole.”
Georgiana bit her lip for a moment, then nodded. “I suppose that makes sense. I could not understand why when he was finally well that I was so unsettled.”
“Love is a strange beast. We seek it and yearn for it, yet it can be as difficult and terrifying as it is fulfilling. It is why we must ensure we give our heart to the one person who is worthy of it, and we must always strive to be worthy of their love in return.”
She glanced back up at the portrait. “He has faced a great deal in the last two years.”
“And I am certain he has managed as best he could. Losing his hearing had to have been excruciating. His brother has mentioned how he feared not being able to protect a wife or children. He also mentioned how Bath withdrew from you after your journey here.”
“It seems Henry has told you a great deal.”
“He has. I could have insisted Lord Bath marry you for staying in your room at the inn, even though I would have done the same in his situation. Thankfully, all has worked out as it should, and I have not been forced to confront your husband. Now, if he does not treat you as he should—”
“I do not believe you will have reason to take him to task, Brother. The incident at the inn did make him withdraw for a time, but I can also understand why the situation caused him such disquiet. Charles could not hear the rattling of the latch, and I had to be his ears. The assistance he receives from Henry is different, since they are brothers, and Henry’s help is also understood to be temporary. Charles had to understand that there was no shame in accepting aid from me.”
Fitzwilliam laughed. “At times, those of our sex are resistant to being beholden to a lady. We want to be able to provide and protect those we love ourselves. He is not so unusual in that regard.”
“I suppose. I had not considered our predicament in that manner.” She levelled a bit of a frown at him. “You do not mind accepting help from Lizzy.”
“In the situation at the inn, I am certain I would insist Elizabeth and the children be shielded behind me. Where were you?”
“Charles attempted to push me behind him, but I moved away and more forward. Otherwise, he would not have known what I was telling him.”
Fitzwilliam nodded. “You exposed yourself to protect you both. I would also be upset if Elizabeth did so, but I have my hearing.” He sighed. “I would wager you both will struggle with these little battles for some time. How you weather each will determine the strength of your marriage. He will need to feel useful—to feel worthy of you.”
After she nodded, she hugged Fitzwilliam. Since their parents’ death, he had been more of a father than a brother. She had always been able to rely on him for advice when she was troubled, and now was no different.
He withdrew and cleared his throat. “That said, if your husband was in better health, I may have considered thrashing him for the two of you anticipating your vows.”
Her breath was forced from her as though someone dealt her a heavy blow to the chest. “I had not expected you to say a word on that matter.”
“Elizabeth spoke to you, did she not?” he asked.
“She did.” Her cheeks burned as though aflame.
“Even if Albemarle had not told me the way you behaved with him, you were too free for a lady who had not experienced such an intimacy. Do you not remember the difference between Elizabeth and me before and after we wed?”
She drew her eyebrows down. Had they behaved so differently? “It has been some time now, though I do recall how often the two of you broke with propriety.”
“Yet, we did not anticipate our vows.” He pinned her with a heavy gaze. “From what Jane told Elizabeth, your courtship was not an easy one, but if he had died in that river and you were with child—my wife has mentioned you show the signs.”
“I do, and by the day, I am more convinced of my state. Even had that occurred, you must understand that I would not have brought shame upon you or Elizabeth. I would have been fine living in some small village and calling myself a widow. I have no desire to move within the ton , and I would not have given up my babe.”
He did no more than dip his chin. “Well, we need not worry over that, do we? You are a married lady now. If the babe comes a few weeks early, most will not blink an eye, though I am certain your husband will delay notifying those who would hope to spread mischief.”
“I am certain he will. More than anything, I am pleased I shall not be a widow so soon after my wedding. My husband will be well, albeit a bit weak for a time, and we shall have a long life together.”
“A relief indeed.”