dropsy and typhus and croup.” With only one death—no, three—that haunted her.
His thick eyebrows rose in unison. “You sound most accomplished. Edmunds never told me he’d hired an attendant to replace Miss Guimond.”
“He was afraid someone might snatch Miss Dunne away if they found out, sir,” interjected Mrs. Mainprice. “You know how hard it is to find a good attendant, and Dr. Edmunds was a wee bit possessive of our Miss Dunne.”
“Was he now? Well then, in that case, I believe I can trust you with the care of our patient. I left a very important function at Lord Wellsley’s and must return immediately. My duties here are concluded for the moment, anyway. It is time for the surgeon to ply his trade.”
“You can trust me to follow whatever instructions you provide,” Rachel replied. “I shall attend to Amelia’s care until the surgeon arrives.”
“Mrs. Mainprice knows what needs be done. My directives must be followed to the letter. Am I understood? The child must not come to harm because of incompetence.”
“I understand completely, Dr. Calvert,” said Rachel stiffly, keenly aware that if he lost a patient, he would never suffer the accusations she had endured.
“I see I’ve made myself clear, then. Good evening, Miss Dunne. I shall return once my schedule permits.” He retrieved his medical bag and marched out of the house.
Rachel hurried up the stairs as soon as the door closed behind him, the housekeeper wheezing as she hastened into Amelia’s room with her. Mrs. Woodbridge was nowhere to be found.
Rachel stripped back the heavy blankets covering Amelia, beet-red from fever, pulled out the warmed brick at her feet. The child stirred and moaned. She didn’t open her eyes, though. She had obviously been dosed with laudanum.
“The doctor said sweating her was the proper thing to do,” Mrs. Mainprice explained.
“She is already burning up. She needs less heat on her body, not more.” Rachel dropped a nearby clean rag into the basin of water. “When was the last time you thought to cure a fever by laying heavy blankets and hot bricks all over a person?”
“Exactly never. Cordials, spirit of niter, and cool wet cloths usually work best. If anything does.” Her eyes softened, moistened with tears. “Poor lass.”
“We had best make some of my tonic.” Rachel wrung out the cloth, the excess water splashing into the basin. “We have to get some down Amelia as soon as we can rouse her from her sleep. Tonic and cordials and anything else you can think of.”
“I agree, Miss Dunne.” Mrs. Mainprice punctuated her assent with a crisp nod, her cap ribbons flapping.
“We should also tell Joe to prevent that surgeon from crossing the threshold of this house. Instruct him to tell the man anything, that we’ve had an outbreak of the plague if necessary, but keep him away. And we should not let Mrs. Woodbridge in this room. She would not approve of my tending to Amelia.”
“Dr. Calvert dosed Mrs. Woodbridge with laudanum as well. She was rather hysterical when he arrived. I’ve a feeling she won’t be rising for many an hour.” A wry smile twisted the housekeeper’s mouth, and she hurried off to fetch the tonic.
Rachel turned back to Amelia, and her heart sank as fast as an anchor tossed over the side of a ship. The poor child was so very ill. She squirmed from the fever and the pain that gripped her. Damp cloth in hand, Rachel gently wiped it over Amelia’s limbs.
“Amelia, do try to wake up. Please. You need to take some medicine.”
Mrs. Mainprice returned, a steaming mug of tonic in her hands. She helped Rachel spoon a small amount past Amelia’s lips. The child spluttered, the liquid dribbling onto Rachel’s arms.
“Please drink some, sweeting,” Rachel cooed and clamped her fingers around the spoon to stop their trembling. Amelia’s eyes drifted in and out of focus, fighting against the effects of the laudanum. Rachel noticed anew that they were the most incredible blue, a rich color, like precious sapphires. Her heart swelled until she thought her chest would burst. “Yes, Amelia. Good girl. Concentrate on me and try to swallow some of this. It will make you feel better.”
“I can’t. I hurt.” Amelia moaned, a piteous sound that tore at Rachel’s heart. Mary Ferguson had moaned just the same that afternoon, in between wrenching coughs . . .
She spilled tonic onto the sheet, a circular stain of greenish liquid.
“Here, miss.” Mrs. Mainprice leaned across her, wiping at the spill with a clean cloth.