Ambersley (Lords of London) (37 page)

The burly valet shook his head grimly. “It’s not good.”

“
Cushing, who is this?” Dr. Wardlaw demanded. “How dare he barge in here and interrupt? You—what are you doing? Stop that! Stay away from him.”

Johanna leaned over the duke and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Derek was far more ill than she’d imagined. She turned to Cushing. “How long has he been like this?”

Dr. Wardlaw spun her by the shoulder. “The duke has been ill for nearly a week. Now you must leave at once,” he said forcefully.

Nonplused, Johanna cast her eyes over the physician’s pudgy face, badly tailored coat and worn shoes. “Pack your things, and I’ll have the coach deliver you to Ambersham. Your services are no longer required here.”

The physician gave a blustery laugh. “Young man, I’m here at Lady Vaughan’s own direction. Who do you think you are to order me around?”

“
I’m the duke’s ward.”

“
You look no better than a servant. You’ve no authority here.”

“
Then you may leave on my authority,” came a voice from the door. “Tell her ladyship the Marquess of Worthing discharged you.”

Dr. Wardlaw sputtered and turned crimson. “This is an outrage!”

“
I agree,” Worthing said, his bored tone barely concealing contempt. “The whole night’s been outrageous, so don’t try my patience further. Now
leave
.”

Cushing blew out a breath and turned on the good doctor with a predatory smile.

The physician grabbed his bag and fled the chamber.

“
Thank you,” Johanna said.

Worthing stepped closer to look over her shoulder and shuddered at the sight of the many leeches. “You were right to come. I’m not sure the bloodletting is helping.”

“
He continues to grow worse,” Cushing murmured. Fatigue etched the giant’s face.

Johanna touched his arm. “I wager you haven’t left his side since he fell ill.”

He grunted a non-committal reply.

“
You’re not alone anymore, Cushing. I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen to him.”

“
Admirable, my dear,” Worthing said behind her. “But don’t you think we should remove those…those…” He didn’t seem to be able to name them.

Johanna peered over her shoulder to find their long ride had left him rumpled and wind-blown. “Would you fetch Cushing a brandy, my lord, and perhaps one for yourself?”

That slow smile of his appeared. “An excellent notion.” He went unerringly to the table holding the decanter and glasses.

Cushing stayed with her. “I don’t need spirits, my lady. What may I do to help?”

“
For now, I want you to sit. You look dead on your feet.” Before she could ask, Worthing corralled the servant and drew him to a chair where Cushing’s knees all but collapsed as he dropped into it.

Johanna drew a ragged breath, but with firm resolve began to pluck the leeches from Derek’s body. “I need something for these.”

Cushing tried to rise. “There’s a bowl—”

“
I’ll get it,” Worthing said as he pushed the bigger man back into the chair. “Your mistress said sit—I expect you to comply.”

Cushing blinked, but didn’t question the voice of authority.

Worthing brought the bowl and held it for her to dispose of the slimy creatures. “Those
things
don’t make you squeamish?” He winced as one of the creatures fell onto his hand.

“
They’re not so different from slugs or snails,” she said. She lifted a wet sponge from the bucket near the bed and wiped Derek’s chest as she cleared away the leeches, erasing the tiny trails of blood they left behind.

Derek twitched under her ministrations, but his sounds and actions were unintelligible.

As she dropped more leeches in the bowl, she glanced up to find Worthing contemplating her.

“
Is there anything you cannot do?” he asked. His normal sarcasm was conspicuously absent.

So many things.
“Needlework,” Johanna replied, holding her fears at bay. She paused to smooth Derek’s brow, hot and dry beneath her hand. “I dislike it so, I have no heart to apply myself to it.”

Worthing touched her shoulder. “Apply your heart to the important things.”

She closed her eyes at his words. “I would have come sooner had I known.”

“
I hope Derek appreciates his good fortune at having you.”

Reopening her eyes, a sad smile pulled at her lips. “He doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“
He will.” Worthing squeezed her shoulder before dropping his hand. “Don’t leave him.”

She turned to look at him, but found he studied Derek’s haggard face. “What lies between the two of you?” she asked.

“
The same thing that separates us.”

There was no mistaking the regret in his voice, which perplexed Johanna.

Derek muttered something in a dry rasp, drawing her immediate attention. She bent over to take his hand in hers while she considered potential remedies to fight his fever.

A soft rap heralded the arrival of Paget with a fresh bucket of cool water. Behind him Mrs. North carried Johanna’s saddle roll, and Mrs. Chalmers brought a welcome tray of food.

“
Rory is taking the physician to town in the pony trap,” Paget announced.

“
And good riddance,” murmured Mrs. Chalmers. “I never liked the way that man always cleared his plate but never made His Grace eat.”

“
How is he, Johnny?” Mrs. North asked.

Johanna straightened and studied their solemn faces. They all awaited her leadership, and she knew she couldn’t depend on better people to help her.

“
He has a high fever, and his breathing is labored and shallow, but we
will
save him. Do you understand me?”

They nodded, one by one.

“
Good. Mrs. Chalmers, I’ll need some broth and milk. Also, find some mustard seed, flour, yeast and vinegar to mix a mustard plaster. Mrs. North, please leave my roll in my bedroom, then this room needs to be aired out. Paget, thank you for the fresh water—the duke will need more bathing. Cushing, I want you out of here until after dawn, and I expect you to sleep. You’ll be of no help to us if you go down sick. Take these things with you, and dispose of them.” She handed him the bowl of leeches.

Mrs. Chalmers set down the tray and left for the kitchens, Mrs. North in her wake. Cushing looked like he might argue, but Johanna quirked a brow at him, and he gave a silent nod and left.

Worthing stepped forward. “What, no commission for me?”

“
I hesitate to ask.”

“
You have only to name it.” The silver in his eyes glittered in the flickering candlelight.

“
Harry and Aunt Bess should be told—”

“
I should have foreseen a ride to Tunbridge Wells,” he said with a curl of his lip that somehow wasn’t a grin. “Allow me a brief meal and a fresh horse, and I’ll leave at once.”

“
You’ve had no sleep,” she said.

“
Neither have you, and I doubt you’ll see a bed any time soon. Leave it to me. I’ll have them here as quickly as possible.”

“
What will you say to Harry?” she asked, remembering that Harry didn’t trust Lord Worthing.

“
I shall simply tell him
Johnny
needs him at Ambersley because the duke is ill. I suspect that will fetch him and his good mother.”

Johanna’s shoulders slumped.
Yes, they’d definitely respond to that message.

“
Fear not.” Worthing chucked her under the chin until she met his gaze. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“
How shall I ever repay you?”

“
Help Derek. He needs you.” Worthing released her. “And perhaps, one day, you’ll entrust me with the story of your past.” With that, he quit the room, leaving her with only Paget and the duke.

Johanna dipped a fresh handkerchief into the bucket and dribbled water into Derek’s mouth. The scar he’d received the day of the barn fire flared angry red from the fever.

Paget cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’ve come, Lady Johanna, I won’t deny, but if you’ll pardon me for—”

Johanna stopped him. “I won’t pardon you, Paget. Don’t bother to judge my actions, for I care not for your or anyone’s opinion. This is where I belong, and so I am here. Now, will you help me or not?”

Paget nodded. “I’ll do my best, Lady Johanna, but none of us know anything about nursing.”

“
I do. Martha taught me. And for the time being, Paget, think of me as Johnny. It’ll be easier on all of us."

~

Johanna watched the full moon ascend in the sky. Over the past three nights, she’d formed quite a bond with the luminous disc. She’d ridden at a full gallop beneath its light, and this was the second night it had borne her company while she watched over her patient. Most people misunderstood the moon. It wasn’t cool and distant, shrouded in mystery. The moon waited in the sky and offered its friendship to the people below, but was often overlooked in favor of its brilliant rival. The moon encouraged silence. It kept your secrets. It presented your worst fears, yet it offered hope when the bright reality of day denied there was any hope left.

Throughout the day, Derek had thrashed about, muttering incoherently. By dusk he grew quiet, but his breathing was labored and uneven, his pulse raced, and his haggard face had turned ashen. Alone with her patient, Johanna felt her own panic rise. She feared she was losing him.

Throughout the evening she and Cushing continued to bathe Derek with sea sponges dipped in cool water. Whenever he was conscious, they lifted his head and spooned ale or broth into his mouth. Finally, Cushing convinced Johanna to get a breath of air and eat some supper. She took a crust of bread and a glass of wine to the window and marveled at the huge fiery orange full moon rising in the east. Never before had she seen the moon so large or brilliant, and she recalled Derek had once told her of the moon’s beauty in the wilds of India. She wanted so much to share this with him—

Cushing’s voice broke into her reverie. “Johnny, he’s shaking—come see!” Johanna rushed to the bedside to find Derek covered in perspiration and shivering.

“
He’s sweating, Cushing. The fever’s
broken
.” Tears stung her eyes.

Cushing laughed in response as he grabbed a quilt to toss over his master. Johanna fetched two more blankets while Cushing went to bank the fire. Their tasks complete, he led her to the fire and lowered her into a chair. “One thing is certain—we wouldn’t have saved him if you hadn’t come. I was never so surprised to see anyone as I was to see you the other night.”

“
Why should you be surprised?” she asked as he handed wine to her. “You knew if you sent word Derek needed me, I would come immediately.”

“
No, I didn’t. You and the Master must have had one hell of a row. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you at Ambersley again.”

Johanna bowed her head. “’Twas but a foolish argument, Cushing. I said things I shouldn’t.”

He nodded. “That explains it. The Master has been mighty grim ever since he returned. Now, you should get some sleep.”

“
No, Cushing. I slept some last night, and you made me nap this afternoon. You should sleep now because in the morning Derek will need you. Come, help me make him comfortable before you go.”

After the servant left, Johanna snuffed all but one candle. She glanced Derek’s way, but his steady breathing was less labored than the previous night. She left him to his rest and quietly tidied the room. Wiping her hand down her waistcoat, she glanced over her clothes. She still wore the same breeches and shirt in which she’d arrived, and until now hadn’t spared them a thought. While she longed for a relaxing soak in a tub full of hot water, she pragmatically opted for a sponge bath. For years she’d taken sponge baths at the little cottage, and since she’d revived her role as Johnny, it seemed fitting.