L&A: 6

“How bad is it, Dr. Craven?” Emma’s eyes were huge and pleading, and her hands rested on her large stomach. Her husband rubbed her shoulders reassuringly as they sat on the sofa, facing Dr. Craven.

He knit his hands together. “She has pneumonia. That is quiet serious, Lady Spencer. But she is of good disposition, and she is strong. She should pull through just fine. I am not sure how long it will take…and hopefully there will be no complications. I am wiring to London straightaway for some additional supplies and to consult my old professors.”

“May I see her?” Rose asked, perching anxiously on the edge of her chair.

“You heard Dr. Craven,” her father said sharply. “She’s contagious. And I need you here to help with your mother.”

“Your time is close, Lady Spencer,” Dr. Craven said. “Rose will most certainly be needed her, when the time comes. Of course I shall come to assist you as soon as I hear word.”

Emma nodded. “Oh, poor Lily…”

“Try not to worry. Her ankle will knit quite well, I think, and, like I said, she is young and healthy. My brother is keeping watch with her and he is to send word for me if anything should happen whilst I am out today.”

“You are not going to London, then?” Lord Spencer asked.

Neville shook his head. “I will wire, and see what the response is. I am hopeful that one of my colleagues can come up to assist me.”

Lord Spencer nodded and Neville stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be off to the apothecary, to see what he has in stock, before I wire.”

Emma nodded and Lord Spencer shook Neville’s hand. “I will escort you out,” he said, leaving Rose with her mother.

“Please, do everything you can,” he said quietly as Neville’s horse was brought around. “Lily is her mother’s favorite…”

“Of course I will,” Neville said, not adding that she was a favorite of his, too. “All possible methods will be tried.”

“Is she comfortable? Is she in pain?” Her father asked haltingly.

“No. I’m giving her draughts to help her sleep and relieve the pain,” Neville said. “That is quite foremost in my mind right now. And Archibald—my brother—insists on it.”

“Good man.” Neville took the reins of his horse and tipped his hat. “I will send a messenger tonight, to keep you abreast of developments,” he assured Lord Spencer before he rode off.

* * *

By evening, Neville had still not returned and Archie was growing frantic. He had sent several servants off with messages, but to no avail. Lily’s fever had shot up, and she was in intense pain, moaning and crying out. Archie could barely stand it.

Mrs. Medlock bustled in, carrying a Chinese bowl of ice water and a linen cloth. Archie set them on the table next to him and began bathing Lily’s brow with the rose-scented water.

“Anything else, sir?” She asked. Archie shook his head and she left the room quietly.
Archie squeezed Lily’s hand and continued to wipe her forehead, wringing out the cloth and adding cool water. If only Neville was here! If only he knew what to do. His Oxford education had not included medicinal courses.

“Neville’s coming,” he said to her. “Just try to hold on…”

If only her fever would break! If only Neville would come with the right medications…

Minutes passed; Archie didn’t know how many. His movements became a ballet of dampening her forehead, wringing out the cloth, rewetting it, and replacing it on her feverish face. But the pain was more disturbing to him; he felt like he could do something, however rudimentary, against the fever. But he was powerless against her pain, and he hated to see her tortured by its relentlessness.

Is it possible I love her? He thought. I hardly know her. And yet I would do anything to make her open her eyes and smile at me. I would do anything to relieve her of this pain.

He hadn’t had feelings for a woman since Amy Moore in London, so many years ago. But her betrayal and callousness of heart had hardened him toward women. Yet somehow this girl had slipped through the barriers he’d erected. Was it her youth? The fact that she was clearly free of any sort of malice, and seemed incapable of deception? He didn’t know, and didn’t know if he wanted to know, right then. All he knew was that she could not die. He would do everything he could to prevent it.

Neville burst in, carrying several packages and a bottled container. “Move,” he said, pushing Archie aside as he poured the draught into Lily’s mouth. “Damn the post.”

“Is that what kept you?”

“I received a wire saying I’d receive the packages immediately,” Neville said, opening the boxes as he spoke. “‘Immediately’ is apparently not immediate in London.”’

“What happened?”

“The others agree--pneumonia. They sent me the best things they had.” He examined the bottles and laid out several syringes. “These will help.”

“She’s been in terrific pain…”

Neville wiped off the top of the one of the glass bottles with alcohol and prepared a syringe. “This will help. It’s a relatively new drug…” He injected the solution into Lily’s upper arm. Archie cringed but Lily didn’t move. “I’ll give her some more in a few hours. I’ll have to re-read the letters to make sure I do this right.” Neville placed the articles on the bedside table and studied his brother’s face. “Have you eaten all day?”

“A little,” he said absently.

Neville grabbed his brother’s arm and hauled him out of the room. “Listen,” he said firmly once they were in the hall, “you must get some rest. You have to eat something. Go for a ride, read, do the books, I don’t care. But you have to get out of that room. It’s not doing her any good.”

“I promised her, Neville,” he said pleadingly.

“And I will stay with her until you get back. I am sure she will understand.” Neville didn’t add that Lily would be too groggy from the medications to even notice Archie’s absence. “Pneumonia is highly contagious.”

Archie sided and rubbed his temples. He was tired. And he knew the estate’s books needed calculated. “All right, Neville. But I won’t be long.”

Neville smiled. “Good. Go to the kitchen and have Lucy prepare you some food, straightaway.”

Archie nodded and headed for the kitchen area, bypassing the enormous dining room where he and Neville usually ate.

“Good evening, Lucy,” he said as he entered the dark kitchen, illuminated by the roaring kitchen fire and a few gas lamps. The small cook jumped and gave a hasty curtsy.

“Master Craven,” she said. “I had no idea—will you be wanting—can I get you anything?”

He waved his hand and took a stool near the high countertop. “Just whatever’s about, Lucy. Neville insists I eat.”

“A good thing he does, too,” a voice said from the corner. “I’ve heard about Miss Lily, poor thing! And you must be sure to take care of yourself.”

“Susan was just dropping off this week’s vegetables,” Lucy explained. “I’ve got a nice soup going, and some bread.”

“That’s fine, Lucy,” Archie said. “So you’re Mrs. Sowerby?” he asked the stout, red-haired woman.

She nodded proudly. “That I am. Mrs. Medlock said you needed a new woman to help supply produce. I don’t have much, but my garden does produce some wonderful vegetables, it does, and I’m always happy to contribute to the Manor. Your father’s always been a wonderful landlord. How is he?”

Archie was taken aback by the woman’s gregariousness. “He’s…he’s in London. Staying with relatives.” It was the story they had agreed upon before he’d left.

Susan nodded. “Good for him to get away. Although I’d wager Ramsgate or Bath would prove more restorative?”

“It’s not the season yet…perhaps in the autumn.”

Susan nodded. “I went to Bath as a girl, a maid to a wealthy family, and I’ve never forgotten it. Very lovely.” She turned to Lucy. “Well, if you need more, be sure to send word, and I’ll see what my children can gather.”

“Thank you, Susan,” Lucy said. “Would you like some soup?”

Mrs. Sowerby shook her head. “No, thank you kindly. We had a lovely rabbit stew this ev’ning, my husband brought home some great meat. I’ll bring you one of them once it’s been smoked, if you’d like.”

“That would be excellent. Miss Lily will need something substantial, once she’s up to eating again. So thin she is,” Lucy said.

“Poor girl. I’ll say a prayer for her at church tomorrow.” She stood, gathered her now empty baskets and curtsied to Archie. “Good e’ven, sir,” she said, going out the back door and into the foggy night.

“She’s quite chatty,” Archie said as Lucy placed a steaming bowl in front of him, along with a plate of bread and a mug of ale.

Lucy smiled. “She is, sir. But she grows some of the best vegetables in the country, and the meat she brings us is wonderful.”

“Do we pay her well enough?”

Lucy looked startled. “Well enough?”

Archie swallowed his mouthful of soup, which was hot and filling. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. “She has a husband, children. I want to make sure she is well-compensated.”

She nodded. “Seward would be the one to talk about that with, sir,” she said. “He pays her every sennight, I know that. How much though, I don’t know.”

“I will talk with him when I am though here. The books are in a dreadful state.”

“Miss Lily must take up a great deal of time, her being so ill. It’s only right that you are concerned.” Lucy turned to the produce on the countertop and began to wash it in the deep sink. “Will Mr. Neville’s medications be effective?”

“He hopes so. The London doctors suggested this course of treatment.”

“My brother had the pneumonia last year, but he’s all right now. A bit slower of step…his heart was affected, they said. But he is alive.” Lucy meant this to be consoling, but dread settled into Archie’s stomach like a stone. He hadn’t considered the thought of Lily impaired, unable to work in her garden, or ride her horse about the House’s grounds.

He finished his bowl of soup and stood. “Thank you for obliging me, Lucy. You may want to check with Neville, and see if he needs anything. He’s only just come home and probably didn’t eat a bite all day either.”

She nodded. “Anytime, sir.”