L&A: 5

The fire Seward had built was certainly large, and Archie hoped they wouldn’t become uncomfortably warm. He didn’t want Lily to burn up, not after almost freezing.

She was tucked tightly under the sheets, and her face was still contorted with pain. Archie wanted to relieve it, but he didn’t know how. She looked so small and fragile in the big bed. Her breathing appeared labored, and her head tossed against the pillows, lips moving soundlessly.

Her hands were folded on top of the heavy quilt, and Archie ran his fingers along them, feeling her tiny bones and the softness of her skin. So pale and cold, still.

Don’t, he scolded himself. He settled into a parlor-chair nearest the bed and began to read one of the books haphazardly placed on the night table. King Lear. He found it a fitting choice. Reading always gave him pleasure, and he hoped it would take his mind of Lily.

It didn’t. He read disjointedly, a few pages at a time, but inevitably found his head drawn to her, watching her breathe, counting the seconds between her breaths. He began pacing the room like a great caged cat, going to and fro in front of the hearth, watching her.

The small mantle clock chimed the hour and Archie was surprised to notice it was two a.m. Time seemed both compressed and elongated. He had never felt this way before.

He managed to stop his pacing and sat on the bed, taking her hand. It seemed warmer now, but she was still distressed, her lips still moving, soundlessly pleading for something Archie couldn’t guess. He could tell she was not well.

“What could I do for you?” He asked softly. He felt her forehead; instead of the iciness that had worried him earlier, now it was becoming uncomfortably warm. If she developed a fever…

A fit of coughing shook her again, deep and violent. He moved to support her head; she was having trouble breathing as the spasm seized her and he gently lifted her torso, to ease her breathing. The coughing continued unabated, sending her body into spasms, and he held her tightly.

“It’s all right,” he said, trying to comfort her, but not knowing if she even heard him. He felt her body give way and he knew that the episode was over. He laid her back against the pillows, and her eyes opened.

For a moment their gazes locked. Archie couldn’t tear his eyes away. Her eyes were huge and glassy in her pale face. “Mr. Craven?” Her voice was a thin thread.

“You’re at the Manor,” he said. “You took quite a fall. You’re ill. Neville and I are taking care of you.”

“I—I feel so strange,” she said, closing her eyes briefly. “Like I’m not quite here…”

“Neville will be in to check on you shortly,” he said. “Don’t worry. You need to rest.”

“I’m so hot,” she said, fidgeting with the blankets. “Take these away—“

“No.” He said firmly, grabbing her hands. “You need to stay warm. You almost froze in the rain.”

“I’m too hot, take them off,” she said, her voice rising in agitation.

“Lily. No.” He knew that if she did have a fever she needed to stay covered to break it.

She acquiesced to his grip and licked her lips carefully. “I’m so tired…”

“Try to sleep. You need rest.”

She closed her eyes. “Stay with me…” she murmured. “Don’t leave…”

He nodded, swallowing hard, and continued holding her hands. He knew he’d have to summon Neville soon. But he was so enjoying this moment, the moment where a woman had asked him to stay with her, to comfort her, that he didn’t want it broken by the machinations of his younger brother. He wanted to bottle it and keep it safe somewhere. It was surely an illusion.

As he pondered her face, and her request, Neville entered the room and came behind him. “Sleeping?”

“She had a violent cough a few minutes ago,” Archie said, his eyes still on Lily’s face. “It was awful, Neville. Really horrible. I thought she’d shatter with the force of it.”

Carefully Neville listened to her lungs. “We’ll have to be cautious,” he said. “And she has a fever.”

Archie nodded. “I know. She wanted to throw off the blankets. I had to hold her hands so she wouldn’t.”

“Good. That will just make the situation worse.” Neville rubbed his eyes. “I’ll have to wire London tomorrow. This case may be more complicated than I thought.”

“She’ll be all right though, won’t she?” Archie turned his eyes on his brother.

Neville hesitated. “I hope so. I think so. She’s young.”

Archie’s focus went back to Lily. “She asked me to stay with her, Neville.” His voice was so low that Neville wasn’t sure he’d heard him right.

“She did?”

He nodded. “She…she’s just…”

Neville nodded and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I know. I will do my best, Archie. She’ll be fine. I’m going to prepare something for her fever, and give her something to help her sleep. I’ll be right back.” He slipped out of the room, but Archie didn’t notice.

* * *

Neville re-entered the East Room at dawn to find Archibald folded over on the bed, his hands still holding Lily’s, and his patient still tossing restlessly. He went and gently prodded his brother awake.

“Wh—Oh, Neville.” Archie sat up, wincing, and looked about him. “What time is it?”

“Dawn. Anything happen after we last spoke?” Neville asked as he began to examine Lily.

Archie stood and adjusted his clothing. “More coughing. It’s awful, Neville.” Neville listened to her chest again.

“I can hear it,” Neville said, straightening. “It’s probably pneumonia.”

Archie closed his eyes. Last winter pneumonia had killed many in London. “Are you sure?”

Neville nodded. “With all probability. She’s going to need more medications than what I have on hand. And perhaps another doctor.”

“London?”

Neville thought. “I’m not sure. I’ll wire this morning. Maybe I can get what I need from the village. If I do have to go to London, of course I will.” He looked at Lily, thinking. “Oh, Mrs. Medlock is having breakfast brought in here for us,” he added.

“Good,” Archie said absently.

“Lily should eat something,” Neville said. “If we can get her awake…”

“Perhaps after we eat.” Archie stood stiffly and fell into the chair near the bed.

“We never did have the lamb,” Neville said absently.

“No.” Neither of them had noticed hunger. And Archibald wasn’t very hungry now.

“On my way to the village I’ll stop by the Spencers’. They should know what’s happening. Of course none of them will be able to stay here…she’ll be contagious. And Archie, I’ll take the watch tonight.”

“I don’t mind Neville, really.”

“I don’t want you to get sick,” Neville said, somewhat insistently.

“For God’s sake, Neville, I’m not your child. I can decide what I am and am not capable of around here.”
“I know you can, Archie. But I don’t need two patients.”

“I was healthier than you as a child.”

“Archie—“ Neville was interrupted by the arrival of the breakfast trays, which a maid set on the Queen Anne table by the large bay window that overlooked part of Misslethwaite’s massive park. “Thank you,” he said to the girl, who bobbed a curtsy, took a cursory and curious glance at the motionless Lily, and scurried out.

“That’s enough, Neville. You will be far too busy and need rest more than I do. Without you, it’s hopeless. I know nothing of medicine.”

Neville sighed, exasperated, and sat at the table. “Let’s eat.”

The brothers ate in silence, although both only picked at the large platter of eggs, bacon and ham that had been placed before them. Archie nibbled mindlessly on one of cook’s biscuits and Neville drank three cups of coffee in quick succession. “What should we give her?”

Neville surveyed the tray. “Perhaps some of a biscuit. It’s dry and there’s not much to it. It shouldn’t hurt her.”

Archie took one of the china plates and placed half of a biscuit on it. He moved over to the bed and gently sat beside Lily. “Lily…” he said softly, not wanting to frighten her. He didn’t know if she remembered anything from the previous night.

After a few agonizing seconds her eyes fluttered open. Her face was flushed and her eyes bright with the fever Neville said she had. Even Archie could tell that pneumonia was a correct diagnosis. Her breathing was shallow and labored.

“Mr. Craven…”

“Do you think you could eat something?” He extended the plate and Lily eyed it warily. Her stomach was feeling queasy and she didn’t need to be sick in front of him.

“I don’t know…”

“You should try,” Neville added from the table. “It will do you good.”

“I feel rather nauseous,” she said, her eyes pleading with Archie.

He retracted the plate and took her hand. It filled her with a strange sensation. “How do you feel?”

“My chest hurts,” she said, as she coughed slightly.

“We think you have pneumonia,” Neville said, coming over to them. “You’ll need to be watched carefully. And you have a fever.”

“You’ll stay here and rest. We’ll take care of you,” Archie added, trying to reassure her. “Your family has been informed, so you have nothing to worry about.”

She closed her eyes and leaned her head weakly against the pillows. “What happened to my leg? It feels so heavy.”

“You broke your ankle,” Neville said. “I had to place it in a cast last evening.”

“Stupid boots,” she said, shutting her eyes briefly. Another coughing fit began and she writhed in pain, crying out. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Neville went to the door. “I’m going to make her another draught,” he said. Archie held her hand and tried to soothe her as the coughing continued.

“It’s over now,” he said softly as he saw her body relax. “You’ll be all right. Neville knows what he’s about.”

She was panting with the effort of the coughing and the conversation. “It hurts so,” she said. “I was a fool to stay out…”

“Don’t,” Archie said. “Nothing good comes from thinking about past actions.”

She nodded slowly. “May I ask a favor?”

“Certainly.”

“Will you stay with me? I…this may sound foolish, but I don’t want to be alone…” her eyes betrayed her fear and Archie knew he’d never be able to refuse her anything. He was sure she didn’t remember asking him the same thing before, but he trusted the request more now, since she was awake and somewhat lucid.

“Of course. Anything you need, anything you want, you will have,” he said. “I promise.”

She smiled, the first smile he’d seen from her since the ordeal began. “I’m so tired…and…”

Neville entered, carrying another draught. “Drink this; it will help with the pain,” he said. Lily took the glass and drank the contents down quickly. “Is anything else the matter?”

She shook her head slowly. “No.”

“That will make you sleepy. But you need your rest,” he said. “I’m going to the village to send a wire. I will stop by your house on the way to talk to your parents,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be with her, Neville,” Archie said. His brother nodded and left the room to head for the village.

“Do you like plays?” Archie asked Lily. “I could read aloud to you.”

She nodded. “That would be lovely.”

“I’m afraid we only have King Lear, to start,” he said.

“That’s fine. I am partial to that one.”

“So am I.” He pulled the chair closer to the bed and opened the old text, changing his voice with the different characters; he had a gift for mimickry, although it was not often displayed. As the draught took effect, her eyelids grew heavy and finally closed, but Archie read on until he was sure she was asleep.

She looked more peaceful than she had last evening; the draught’s calming effects were evident. At least she wasn’t tossing and crying out. He took her hand and held it, running his thumb over the top, wanting to reassure he that he would fulfill her wishes and stay with her.