Gayle Buck (26 page)

“Yes, m’lady!” Eliza flew out of the nursery, glad to have services to perform.

Within minutes Victoria had immersed her daughter’s hot, lethargic body in the hip bath and knelt beside it to support Jessica’s head. At the first touch of the lukewarm water Jessica awakened and howled. When Victoria crooned soothingly to her, she subsided to tearful moans. Eliza hovered anxiously, standing ready with a towel.

Mrs. Lummington quickly arrived and when she understood the reason for her summons, she called sharply for a candle. Her hapless niece clumsily handed over a taper and Mrs. Lummington leaned over Jessica, shielding the candle with her broad hand to prevent wax drippings. She peered intently at the small child. “Aye, my lady, it looks to be the measles. The spots are ever so faint, but there on her face and breast—”

“Yes, I see them,” said Victoria. Jessica stirred in her arms and sighed. Victoria felt the girl’s forehead. “Thank God, the fever has gone down at last.”

Mrs. Lummington rose with astonishing grace for her girth. “Eliza, help her ladyship and be quick about it!” The nursemaid obeyed with alacrity and wrapped the towel about the child when Victoria took her out of the water. Mrs. Lummington found the warming pan on the hearth and warmed the bed’s icy sheets.

When Jessica was once more in her bed, Victoria turned to the housekeeper. “Thank you for coming so promptly. I shall want the doctor, of course. And I shall ask Mary to move some of my things into Miss Webster’s former room so that I can be close by while Jessica is ill.” She spared a quick smile for the silent nursemaid. “Between us, Eliza and I shall keep a sharp watch on Jessica.”

“I understand, my lady,” said Mrs. Lummington respectfully. She thought it a rare thing when a lady took the nursing of a sick child upon herself.

Arrangements were soon concluded. Eliza volunteered to sit up with Jessica until the early morning hours when Victoria would spell her. She promised to call Victoria at the first sign of restlessness or fever.

Mrs. Lummington sent a manservant for the doctor. “I have taken the liberty of making up a hot bran poultice, my lady. It will ease the poor child’s breathing.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lummington. I truly appreciate your kindness.” Victoria unbuttoned her daughter’s gown and applied the poultice to Jessica’s bare chest.

Mary, who had been sitting up to help her mistress undress, was notified that she was to move part of Victoria’s wardrobe into the bedroom recently vacated by Miss Webster. She clucked distractedly as she hurriedly put the gowns away in the new wardrobe. Then she efficiently made up a fire on the empty hearth. Mary’s last duty was to turn down the bedclothes and warm the sheets with a warming pan.

Victoria knew that Dr. Chatworth would not arrive for a few hours. She lay down on the bed fully dressed, deciding that she needed to get what rest she could before Eliza came for her. She did not sleep soundly, but tossed and started up at the least noise.

Eliza came in a few hours later to waken her and Victoria rose immediately. The nursemaid followed her back into the child’s room. “Miss Jessica has been resting peaceful like, m’lady. The poultice eased her breathing,” Eliza said softly as Victoria bent over the child.

“Thank you, Eliza,” said Victoria. The nursemaid bobbed a curtsy and left to go tiredly to her bed. Victoria settled into the chair beside Jessica. The night was interminable to Victoria, who dozed fitfully and woke at her daughter’s slightest movement.

When Eliza returned in the morning, Victoria got up stiffly from the chair. “I feel as though I were a hundred years old, Eliza,” she said, stretching painfully.

“You would feel better for a bit of tea and toast, m’lady. I will keep sharp watch on Miss Jessica, I promise you that.”

Victoria knew that the nursemaid was right. “All right, then,” she agreed reluctantly, waiting only long enough to see that Eliza was smoothing Jessica’s pillows before she went to her room. Victoria splashed water onto her face and smoothed her hair.

When she presented herself in the breakfast room, Dorothea exclaimed in horror at her rumpled appearance and heavy eyes. “Victoria, whatever is wrong?”

Victoria assured her that her own health was unimpaired. “But Jessica is ill. Mrs. Lummington thinks it is the measles,” said Victoria.

Lord Damion had risen at Victoria’s entrance and held a chair for her. Victoria took her seat with a brief word of thanks. Lord Damion bowed and returned to his own chair. When Victoria made no move to serve herself, he spooned a serving of ham and poached eggs onto her plate. He did not turn his gaze from Victoria until she picked up her fork. Victoria thought she had never smelled such unappealing eggs, but she felt compelled by Lord Damion’s interest to make an effort at eating.

“What rotten luck,” said Evelyn, quick concern in his eyes.

“Poor little Jessica. I know that she must be miserable. Do you think perhaps I might cheer her if I were to visit?” asked Dorothea.

“On no account are you to go near the nursery, Doro,” said Evelyn in swift alarm. He bowed in apology to Victoria. “I am sorry, cousin. But I cannot have Doro exposed.”

‘Of course not. Evelyn is perfectly right, Doro. You must think of the infant first,” Victoria said, easily reading her young friend’s stubborn expression. She stretched out her hand to Dorothea across the table. “You are very good, Doro, but I don’t wish to be anxious on your account as well, you know.”

Dorothea nodded and smiled at her. “Very well, Victoria.”

Lord Damion had listened with a grave expression. “I assume that you have already sent for Dr. Chatworth. Pray let me know immediately if there is aught else that I can do on Jessica’s behalf, Lady Victoria. Be assured that I will do all in my power to provide her with the best of care.”

Victoria smiled, little knowing how vulnerable she appeared to him. “Thank you, my lord. I have Eliza to assist me and Dr. Chatworth should arrive at any moment.” Even as she spoke the door opened and a footman announced that the doctor had arrived. Victoria rose immediately, forgetting her breakfast, and left the breakfast room. Lord Damion thoughtfully regarded her barely touched plate.

“Miss Webster chose a damnable time to take her departure,” said Evelyn, frowning.

Dorothea nodded, sighing. “Yes, for I know that Victoria means to nurse Jessica herself. It is quite like her to do so. Of course she will have Eliza to help her, but Miss Webster would have been such a support to her just now. I only wish that I could offer my assistance as well.”

Evelyn took her hand, pressing her fingers gently. “You are an angel, Doro, he said softly.

Lord Damion kept his own counsel, but he meant to keep a close watch on the situation in the nursery. The measles was a serious matter for a small child and Lady Victoria had every right to feel lively concern. When he finished breakfast, he ordered the butler to attend to Lady Victoria’s every need promptly. He would observe Lady Victoria closely during Jessica’s illness, for he had already seen that she would neglect her own needs if she was not reminded of them.

For days Jessica hovered between serious illness and recovery. She was fretful and petulant by turns and it proved a challenge to keep her comfortable. Each day Victoria had to coax her to take small amounts of rice or sago pudding, toast, and beef tea, but the tonic that Dr. Chatworth had left for her was the greatest challenge. Jessica detested the taste of it and Victoria felt exhausted after every session.

Victoria gradually became aware of a certain strained look about Eliza and began to wonder about it. She was therefore little surprised when the nursemaid came down with fever five days into Jessica’s illness.

“I am that sorry, m’lady. I have failed you again,” said Eliza fretfully. She lay on a narrow cot in her own room and, despite her illness, was embarrassed that her ladyship had seen fit to visit her.

“Never mind, Eliza. I’ve only come to tell you that Jessica appears to be on the mend. You need only think of yourself now.” Victoria gently squeezed the girl’s hand and rose to join Mrs. Lummington at the Bedroom door. In a lowered voice she said, “I hope that we shall not be seeing an epidemic, Mrs. Lummington.”

“Do not be worrying over that, my lady. I’ll not have anyone around Eliza who hasn’t had the measles before. And I shall have damp tea leaves scattered over the carpet each day before it is swept to catch up the contamination,” Mrs. Lummington said reassuringly.

“I do hope that we shall be done with this before the twelve days of Christmas. Sickness in the household will certainly dampen the spirit of the holiday,” said Victoria.

“To be sure, my lady.
It would be a great pity,” agreed Mrs. Lummington.

When Victoria wearily returned to the nursery, she was astonished to find Lord Damion seated comfortably in a wingchair before the fireplace with Jessica resting on his lap. “My lord!” she exclaimed uncertainly.

A glint of humor appeared in his eyes. “Your profound amazement wounds me, Lady Victoria. I must inform you that I am no stranger to sickrooms, though it is true I have visited patients a great deal older than Jessica.”

“Mama, he is telling me about a great white horse,” said Jessica happily. Her eyes were shining as she looked up at Lord Damion’s face.

Victoria saw that Jessica was more contented than she had been in days and her heart softened toward Lord Damion. “I’m certain it is a splendid story,
menina,”
she said gently. She looked at Lord Damion. “I am grateful, my lord.”

Lord Damion’s gaze was somber. “I intend this to be the first of many visits, with your permission, Lady Victoria.”

Victoria was on the point of demurring when her daughter interposed. “Oh good, good! Lord Damion tells me many stories,” said Jessica, clapping her hands.

Victoria smiled ruefully. “It seems that I have little choice, my lord, even though I have reservations about the propriety.”

“Rest easy, Lady Victoria. I am a most proper gentleman when on an errand of mercy,” Lord Damion said, grinning.

Victoria blushed. “Oh no, you misunderstand me. That was not what I meant at all!”

Jessica tugged impatiently at Lord Damion’s coat. “Tell me about the horse now.”

Lord Damion laughed at her. “I am reminded most strongly of my duty, young lady. Very well, I shall continue.” He glanced once more at Victoria and his voice gentled. “Forgive me, ma’am, but you are perfectly hagridden. I shall look after Jessica so that you may rest.”

Victoria made a gesture of dissent. “I could not possibly—”

“That is an order, my lady.” Lord Damion’s voice snapped like a whip. “And believe me, Victoria, I shall personally enforce it.”

Victoria felt her face grow warm once again. The thought of Lord Damion putting her into bed was incredibly disturbing to her pulse. She had no doubts that he was quite capable of it and decided prudence was her best course. “Very well, my lord. But I shan’t be gone more than an hour.” At his nod, Victoria swept out of the nursery.

Victoria found that Lord Damion had meant what he had said about his visits to the nursery. Jessica looked forward to his daily appearances and was more cheerful about taking her medicine. Victoria, too, discovered that these were pleasant times and gradually grew accustomed to the easy rapport between Lord Damion and Jessica. When she thought about it at all, she decided that his lordship was one of those rare men who had a natural liking for children.

Lord Damion’s thoughtfulness showed in a thousand ways, not the least of which were the lemon-water ices that he had sent up. Jessica squealed with delight each time the ices appeared. The little girl began to recover rapidly and Victoria forgot how difficult the first days without Eliza’s help had been. Without consciously realizing it, she was learning to depend on Lord Damion for her comfort.

Chapter Twenty-five

Lord Damion made known his wishes that the Christmas traditions be observed and an air of suppressed excitement and goodwill could be felt in the house among family and servants alike.

Mrs. Lummington went by the old belief that it was bad luck to bring greenery into the house until December 24 and she instructed the household servants to wait until then. On the designated day garlands made from laurel and bay, rosemary, fir, and pine twigs appeared magically on the mantels and decorated the staircase.

When some of the family began to gather for breakfast, the general mood of all was uplifted by these visible signs of the holiday. Victoria, who had spent the early morning hours in the nursery, met Evelyn and Doro on the stairs on the way to the breakfast room. “Do you join us then, cousin? I thought St. Claire had mentioned that Jessica was much improved,” said Evelyn.

Victoria nodded at him. “Yes, Jessica is quite recovered. Mary was good enough to sit with her so that I could come down to see the garlands. How beautiful they are! The hall is quite transformed.”

“I so enjoy this season,” said Dorothea happily, gazing around at the festive decorations.

“And I, too,” said Evelyn, appreciatively sniffing the fresh-scented air. He glanced down at his lady with a wicked grin. “I am particularly partial to the kissing bough.” Dorothea flushed with pleasure.

“I have not seen a kissing bough for years. My father was one to always keep up the old customs but after his death I missed the traditional signs of the holiday season,” said Victoria.

“Then I must certainly reacquaint you with the kissing bough, Lady Victoria,” said Lord Damion as he joined them in time to hear the exchange.

Victoria blushed furiously and decided immediately that she would avoid the drawing room, where the kissing bough would have been hung. She lowered her eyes as she accepted Lord Damion’s escort into breakfast. As he seated her, his warm breath brushed her neck and Victoria could not suppress a shiver.

Lord Damion noticed it and thought he could guess the cause of her sensitivity. He knew that the attraction still existed between them. With a devilish concern, he asked, “Is there a draft, my lady? I would be happy to place a screen behind you.”