Chapter 8 Jahleel—Papa’s Got a Brand-New Life
JAHLEEL—PAPA’S GOT A brAND-NEW LIFE
I sit up, tearing off the blankets like they were ropes. “Hot. Hell is hot.”
“My duke!” That’s Lydia’s sweet voice. “You’re better!”
Tears come to my eyes as I glance at my daughter. “My reason for everything. My Lidochka …”
“Yes. My duke, my papa, my Papa Duke. I’m here.” She starts to crawl to me but stops when I cough. I’ve frightened her with my weakness.
Scarlett bounces from her chair and steadies me. “Your Grace, you’ve awakened.” She mops my brow. “Still fevered. And you’ve been having talkative dreams.”
If I had the strength to color, I would. “Fevered foolish nightmares I disregard.” I clear my throat. “Water, please, and a bath. And different clothes.”
“Jasha.” My mother marches from the fireplace to my bed. “I commanded you to get better, and you have. You’re finally listening.”
Wincing, I laugh a little. “Mamen’ka, I’m trying. I’ll not be defeated. Must win for my daughter … and of course your orders.”
“What did you call her, Papa Duke? Does Princess Grama have another name? Everything is so confusing.”
Lydia looks so hurt.
I want to die inside … not literally, though. “I’m sorry, Lidochka. Smile for me.”
Scarlett offers me a ladle of tea. I clear my throat, suppressing a cough as the hot basil smelling liquid dumps into my gullet. “Mamen’ka is like ‘Mama.’ It’s a Russian endearment.”
My mother runs her fingers through my matted hair. She sees me in such bad condition. I am shamed. Don’t want her to hurt for me. I ache enough for everyone. “Mamen’ka. Brave face, please.”
“Jasha. Lady Lydia and I need you strong.”
“‘Mamen’ka’ sounds pretty.” There are tears on Lydia’s little brown face. And her eyes are shaped like jewels like her blasted mother’s. “Because of Katherine,” she says, “I don’t have one … well, not the one I thought I had.”
I catch my mother’s hand. I want her strength. I need it to make everything better for everyone. “I should’ve found a better way for you to learn of this, but I had to let you know whose you are … who you are.”
“Yeah. I have a longer name, but you sent that man with the papers because you think you’re going to die.” Lydia’s voice is small. Yet it feels as sharp as a knife. I want it to cut at my ribs and release the pain. So much pain.
Then she says, “Don’t die.”
I don’t want to.
I look at my little girl, and I am filled with such gratitude. “When I’m better, ponies for everyone … every week … every day.”
Scarlett frowns as she touches my forehead. “You need to settle and break the fever.” She brings more water to my lips.
I sip a long, long time. Maybe this is how infinity can be mine, just looking at the people I love. “Mamen’ka, Scarlett Wilcox Carew is brilliant. She and her husband … I brought the match together … They are going to help me recover.”
“We will need to try more willow-bark tea.” Scarlett’s words sound more like a question.
I push away the ladle. “That’s a different one. The last tea confused me. My arm feels better, but it makes for strange dreams.”
“The wild lettuce might do that. And I’ll have more teas for you when you are well. We’ll get that appetite up, too.” Scarlett leans over me, checking my eyes. “I shall find the right combination of herbs to make you better, to keep you better.”
“I want to believe Scarlett … Aunt Scarlett can do anything.” Lydia sits up straighter. “I won’t make a fuss if you ask Katherine to help.”
“You’re a precious child, just like Jasha said.” Mamen’ka folds her arms. “But I do not want her here. She’s caused nothing but problems.”
I give her a look which makes her quiet. When she goes to the window to talk to the sky in Russian, she calls me a fool with too much faith.
I am a fool. I have faith. I had it in Katherine. Can’t believe she hated me so much that she’d keep our Lydia from me.
“My sisters, both of them know decorum, ma’am.” Scarlett again wipes my brow. “While I highly disapprove of all Katherine’s done, I know she did it to protect the Wilcox family. Scandal is hard for women, especially us.”
My mother turns. A new softness fades her frown. “Yes, I suppose it is. I believe I know what you Wilcoxes experience. We of Gannibal’s exalted African lineage have had more scrutiny. But that is our responsibility, if we choose to enter rarefied air.”
“Is that why you never visit London, Princess Grama? You don’t like the air? Is it too stinky?” Lydia is so sweet and innocent. My enemies will descend upon her. I refuse to let that happen.
“The princess is using a figure of speech, Lady Lydia. You sound like my husband’s aunties,” Scarlett says. “They take too much upon themselves trying to assimilate into a culture that, at times, doesn’t seem to want them or us.”
My mother is silent for a moment, but then her head nods. “You’re forthright like Jasha has said. Pity you’re not the one he chose to wife.”
“She’ll always be a sister, no matter what.” I whisper this. “I have no wife, remember? That is still correct? My dreams have …”
“Have had ponies, Papa Duke?”
My lips lift as I glance at my daughter. “I’m glad you held onto me when we met.” My eyes close again. “The best day ever was the day we met.”
“When Tavis died?” Scarlett’s words hang in the air.
“Best day. I found a new sister—well, a couple of them now—and a blessed daughter. Best day.”
“Jasha, please rest.” The fierce woman looks shaken. She and Scarlett must know I’m struggling.
My daughter crawls onto the bed and gently lies on my arm, the one not sore from bloodletting. “Uncle Mr. Stephen said Katherine is downstairs with Georgina. Should we give her a chance? She cares for me when I’m sick. I’m desperate for my papa to be well, even if it means her helping.”
“I should banish Lady Hampton for all she’s done.” My mother sounds very angry.
“Nyet.” I shake my head and grow dizzy. I utter a very weak sound, then another sad “Nyet.”
“Jasha?” My mother rushes to me. “You’re getting worked up over the mention of that woman. You’re so like your father. Andrew loved hard, too.”
My father fought with his last breath to validate their marriage. It wasn’t merely about inheritance. He wanted this world to accept their love. I made a promise to fight for love too, but I’ve been made a fool.
So might as well be on again. “I’m willing to try anything. I’ll not give up.” Then I say, “Mamen’ka, I trust Madame Carew with my life. And she must know that when time is up, there’s nothing anyone can do. No one will be at fault. I know you tried hard to save me.”
Scarlett wrings the cloth in the water basin, slapping against the pewter sides. “Well, time is not up. I’ll discover the proper treatment. You will see Lydia grow up. Maybe even be an uncle to the future children born of your new sisters’ marriages.
“Princess,” Scarlett says to my mother, “I’ll make my sisters leave at the first sign of distress.”
“Distress,” Mamen’ka says as she glares at the door.
Katherine stands there. “May I enter?”
For a moment, I feel happy. Katherine has come to me, but then I remember that she would have let me die without my knowing the truth.
Lydia lifts her head and holds her chin high. “Princess Grama, please take me to my room. Scarlett, send for me when your sister goes.”
Scarlett’s mouth drops open, but she nods. “As you wish, Lady Lydia.” Her voice sounds formal.
My daughter eases from the bed and takes her grandmother’s hand. “Papen’ka, I will be back. You remember to stay.”
Walking like my mother, she stares at Katherine. “No more lies to my papa.”
Katherine’s face is full of tears. How can stone or prized marble cry? She looks like she wants to say something, but what word can she give our child to make things better?
My mother shakes her head at Katherine, then turns to me. “Jasha, save your strength. Then you can be up to the mischief I know you love.”
I chuckle. I ache. I lift my gaze to Katherine. She must be here to dance on my grave.