The Reluctant Duke (A Seabrook Family Saga)(76)

“He has a fever,” Emma said to the doctor. Her voice sounded odd and breathy. “I noticed several minutes ago.”

When the physician approached the bed, Emma stepped back and clasped her mother-in-law’s hand and held it tight. “He slept soundly last night. I don’t know what happened.” Panic threatened to overtake her mind and body.

“These things happen, my dear.” Her mother-in-law’s voice vibrated with worry, regardless of what she said.

Time stood still as Emma watched the doctor examine Thomas. He cleaned the area around the incision, put a foul-smelling black ointment across it, then covered it with fresh bandages. The doctor put several small bottles on the bedside table, packed up his medical bag, and turned to the ladies, frowning. “I have left medicine to help him fight the infection and more laudanum for the pain. One teaspoon of each every four hours, and you must try and get liquids inside him.”

“Excuse me, doctor. What is causing his fever and infection?” Emma asked. A knot had formed in her stomach; she dreaded his answer.

“His diseased appendix leaked toxins into his body. The infection comes from inside his body, not from the incision.”

“Is it serious?” Emma asked, and then she silently prayed. Please, God, do not let it be bad.

“If I may be honest, Your Grace,” he said, his tone sober. “Yes, it is. This type of infection can be deadly.”

Emma gasped and covered her mouth while it felt as if her heart ricocheted around inside her. “Deadly…,” she repeated as her eyes meet the dowager’s eyes, full of shock and tears.

“Yes. It can be,” the kindly doctor continued. “But His Grace is healthy and strong; let us pray he can fight it off. Meanwhile, I would prepare for the worst . . . I was optimistic until this infection. He has been ill for many weeks, and I fear it’s unlikely he’ll recover.” He bowed his head. “Your Graces, I’m truly sorry. I wish I had better news. Only time will tell. I’ll be back on the morrow. Force the liquids and give him both medications every four hours. Good day.”

Good day? Was he serious?

“We must inform the others,” Emma’s mother-in-law said between sobs.

“Yes,” Emma replied, refusing to cry. Refusing to believe what the doctor said.

Thomas would not die. Not if she had anything to do with it. She would spend every moment of every day seeing to it that he lived.

“I’ll go down and tell them; please stay here with your son,” Emma offered.

Though she desperately wanted to remain at Thomas’s side, it seemed her feet moved away from the bedside of their own accord.

Emma wondered how she would break the devastating news to Amelia, Bella, Myles, and Amesbury. First she needed to wash her face, change her clothes, and settle her nerves.

A while later Emma entered the bright cream and peach breakfast room. As was usual for this time of day, sunshine entered the room through the tall windows. On any other day the room would lift her spirits, but not today.

Fortunately, she found the room empty. She was not yet ready to face the others and pass on the discouraging news. Approaching the sideboard, she filled a plate with eggs, fruit, and sausage, then sat down at the table. A servant, anticipating her needs, brought her a cup of chocolate, and Emma sipped it appreciatively.

Closing her eyes, Emma let the warmth of the liquid soothe her as it traveled down her throat. Then she thought about Thomas, lying ill in his room, until her body convulsed and tears burst from her eyes. They ran down her face while she hugged her waist and rocked back and forth on the chair. Sobs escaped her and she could do nothing to stop them.

The servant approached her, a worried expression on his face. She waved him from the room.

“No . . . No . . . No . . .” She shouted between sobs. “He will not die. I will not let Thomas die. P . . . Please, my Lord. Do not let Thomas die.”

When the sound of Emma’s sobs hit Myles’s ears his heart stopped beating and he stood transfixed in the doorway, unable to move. His mind thought the worst. Could his friend be…? He refused to complete the thought.

All etiquette was lost to him as he rushed forward, dragged Emma’s chair back, and pulled her up into his arms. Myles hugged her tightly and rubbed her back, trying to soothe her––and maybe himself.

“Tell me what happened,” Myles coaxed her. The trembling of her body and her quick breaths from sobbing had him on the verge of panicking. He did not think it would be wise to lose his composure with Emma. She needed his support now. When she remained silent, it took all his will power not to ask her again.

Myles took deep, calming breaths and waited for her. Finally she calmed down, and eventually he felt her breathing change.“I’m sorry I fell apart.” Emma stepped out of his arms and sank down on her chair. His chest pained at the sight of the raw anguish and fear in her eyes.