23 Worrying News
Cal escorted the duke to the front door in silence. The duke himself seemed too shocked to say a word, and Cal had no need to speak, for Cora had said everything that was necessary.
He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, rocking slightly, her face white.
“Why can he not leave us alone?” she wailed. “All I ask is to be left alone… with you.”
Cal sat down beside her on the bed and gathered her into his arms. “Then you shall have precisely that. I’ll tell Timmy to refuse him entrance if he comes again.”
She shifted a little to look up at him, laughter in her eyes. “Refuse entrance to a duke? Would you?”
“Of course, if it pleases you. This is our house, not his, and his wishes hold no sway here.”
She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Dearest Cal! What would I do without you?”
He gave a low laugh. “Do you want an honest answer? If we’d never met, you’d have gone on placidly with your life and never given a moment’s thought to flying. And you’d have been far better off.”
“No!” she said, sitting bolt upright. “If we had never met… oh, I cannot bear to think of it! Not to know such perfect happiness? Not to feel such deep contentment in my very bones? Not to wake each morning filled with joy? Better off? No, no, you cannot mean it. I was barely alive all those years, drifting from day to day, from month to month, the years passing me by, my heart untouched. Yet now… oh, I feel so much! It is extraordinary, and no price is too great.”
“I hope you don’t come to regret it, that’s all.
” For answer, she snuggled into his shoulder again.
He pulled her a little tighter, and said hoarsely, “It is wonderful, isn’t it?
I was alone for so many years… in my dreams, I am still alone, and then I wake and remember and…
it’s glorious. I’m very blessed. And now I’d better go and see how Meg’s managing with the mutton, or we might not get our dinner this evening. ”
Meg had managed perfectly well, with a little help from Souter, but just as Cal was carving the meat, Timmy came running in, eyes wide.
“They’s got fever at the big house!” he cried.
“At Staineybank?” Cal said sharply. “Who told you that?”
“Mr Burnham. On his way past to the Dog and Duck. Tis one of the babes, took real bad, he says.”
Cora gave a distressful moan. “Oh no! But the duke said nothing!”
“They probably kept it from him to stop him worrying.” Cal whisked off his apron. “I’ll run over there and see what’s going on. Meg, see to the dinner, will you? Don’t wait for me.”
He didn’t make it to the Dog and Duck, for just as he reached the gate, Ben Lovell arrived.
“Just coming to see you,” Ben said. “Have you heard? Mrs Payne’s baby is sick.”
“Aye, I was just on my way to find out more. Will you come in? Mrs Merrington will want to know every detail.”
As soon as Cora saw Ben, she cried out, “What news, Ben? Which of the babies is it?”
“Mrs Payne’s. Started last night, sickness and fever, and Will Smith was called out. Seemed trivial at first, but things got worse as the day wore on and now Dr Percival’s there.”
“Oh, poor Sophia!” Cora said. “If only I were there! She was never a good patient herself, and it is far worse when it is your child who is ill.”
“Do you want to go there?” Cal said. “You have every right to be with your daughter at such a time, and you haven’t been barred from Staineybank.”
“Having the right does not mean I can just walk in without a fight,” Cora said. “You can imagine what Richard would say.”
“Sophia needs her mother,” Cal said.
“She has her sisters and Hester,” Cora said.
“Georgie Hammond, too,” Cal said. “She’s very sensible.”
“Oh yes, but she has a baby, too. She and Rowena will be keeping well clear of Sophia and little Mary. Poor little mite! She is only six months old, far too young to withstand the rigours of a high fever. Although… Richard was very sick when he was two, and he recovered well. Let us hope Mary’s constitution is as strong as his. Oh, poor Sophia! I wish I were there.”
“Then let me take you there,” Cal said gently.
“No. I cannot. Not without an invitation. If Sophia wants me… if Richard allows it… but not otherwise. Ben, you will bring me any news, I trust?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Thank you! And if you would let them know… tell Froggett and he will see that Mr and Mrs Payne are made aware that I am thinking of them all, and… and praying for them,” she added in a whisper.
***
Cora could not eat, could not sleep, could not even ply her needle. Not even her embroidery, her ever reliable source of comfort in difficult times, could soothe her troubled thoughts. She sat on the window seat in the bedroom, from which vantage point she could see anyone who came to the gate.
She had not long to wait. Before breakfast the grooms clattered past exercising some of the horses, and they stopped to bring her the morning report.
Then Molly, the kitchen maid, came into the village to do some shopping, bearing news of the doctor’s first visit of the day.
Then there was Ben, followed by John Coachman, and Allen, Lily’s maid.
Later, Georgie Hammond called, bearing cake, and that was the first food Cora had managed to eat all day.
Souter brought her endless cups of tea, from which she dutifully took three sips and then forgot.
The news was not good. Mary’s fever had grown worse, and now one of the nursery maids was ill, too.
“Sophia is asking for you,” Georgie said gently. “Won’t you come? We can smuggle you through the kitchen after dark, so Richard will never know.”
“No subterfuge,” Cora said firmly. “I will only enter the house openly, through the front door, and not unless Richard invites me. I have written down a list of some remedies that helped when Richard and the girls were ill, if you would be so good as to see that Sophia gets it. I have reminded her also that Mary is no weakling. She is a good, healthy baby with plenty of fat on her. It is thin babies that are the most vulnerable to illness.”
“So Hester says, and has been saying as much to Sophia, but Mr Godley will insist on praying over the poor child, which just reduces Sophia to jelly, as you may imagine.”
Cora sighed. “That man is a fool. He may pray as much as he likes, as we are all doing, I am sure, but it does no good to do so in front of poor Sophia. Georgie, tell me honestly — is the situation dire?”
“Dr Percival’s very optimistic,” Georgie said, but she frowned. “Still… such a tiny baby. We must hope for the best, of course, but… she’s so little.”
That night, Cora fell into an exhausted sleep as soon as she lay down, but this respite lasted only an hour or so. Then she was awake again, waiting out the hours of darkness curled into a miserable ball while Cal slept beside her.
Shortly before breakfast, however, one of the duke’s elegant carriages drew up outside Lilac House, and Lily stepped down from it. Cora rushed outside to meet her before she even reached the gate.
“What news? Has anything happened? Tell me at once!”
“No change in Mary,” Lily said at once. “However, Richard has been persuaded that the house is too infectious to risk his own precious daughters, so he has swept his family away to safety far from Staineybank. It is safe for you to come and see Sophia now.”
“He is gone?”
“Quite gone. They left an hour since, to stay at my house in Cheshire until all risk of infection is well past. I know you said you would not come unless you had an invitation from Richard, but will an invitation from the duke do, now that Richard has gone away?”
“Let me get my cloak.”
“Tell Souter to pack a few things for you. Once Sophia has hold of you, she will not want to let you go.”
On the short journey to Staineybank, Cora bombarded Lily with questions, but there was not much new information to uncover. Mary was holding onto life with determination, and although she showed no improvement, nor had she succumbed to further deterioration.
It was the oddest feeling to walk back into Staineybank, to hand her cloak and bonnet to Henry, to be greeted by Froggett with a smile as if nothing at all had changed in the month since she had left.
“Welcome home, madam,” Froggett said. “Mrs Payne will be very happy to see you. Allow me to show you the way to her present quarters.”
Sophia and Mary had been given a large, airy room in the attics, which had been the housekeeper’s room in the far off days when Staineybank had possessed such a person.
Now it served very well as a sickroom, isolated from the rest of the house.
Only one of the nursery maids was permitted to help, collecting trays from the top of the attic stairs to avoid any mingling with the other servants.
Even so, two maids and Robert the footman had succumbed to the fever.
“Dr Percival has no fears for them,” Froggett told Cora as he led the way up the stairs. “They will recover very speedily, he is certain. He is a trifle concerned about his grace, however.”
“Oh no! Do not tell me that the duke is ill, too!”
“Just a little under the weather, madam. He keeps to his room at present, but he has always had the most robust constitution, so we are not unduly alarmed. However, we must ask you not to leave Mrs Payne’s room until the risk of infection is entirely dissipated.”
“Of course. Such a worrying time for you all, but I have every confidence that you are all coping magnificently.”
“Thank you, madam. We do our best, and I am sure Mrs Payne will go on a great deal better now that you are here.”
Froggett was not permitted to pass beyond the top of the attic stairs. Instead, he rang a hand bell sitting on a table there, and a door opened further down the corridor, a face peeping out. Annie, the nursery maid.
“Oh, ma’am, tis Mrs Merrington come at last!” she called into the room, and in a moment, there was Sophia, dishevelled, distraught, her face blotchy from weeping, rushing down the corridor, arms wide.