sir,” the boy answered. “But it’s been awful quiet up there.”
Which could mean any number of things. James shot a glance back over his shoulder. “Thank you, Calvert, but you’re not needed any longer.”
“But . . .” the man spluttered, “but I had to pay the hackney double to rush back over here!”
“You’ve my apologies,” James called back as he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He’d already reached the first floor when he heard the front door slam shut.
He kept running until he reached the attic rooms. The hush was tangible, the quiet heavy as the air in a church. Or a graveyard. The door to the bedchamber Amelia used stood partly open, and a thin sliver of orange light cut a rectangle on the wood planks of the hallway floor.
A floorboard creaked as he eased the door open, and Rachel, seated at a chair by the bed, spun her head to look at him. The mixture of emotions on her face was unreadable. His gaze didn’t linger long enough to decipher them. His eyes skipped over both Rachel and Mrs. Mainprice to the girl lying still on the bed, her face and body concealed by the enveloping sheets. He was too late.
Heavenly Father, don’t let it be so. Do not let her be lost to me.
“Is she gone?” His legs somehow continued to support him, though at any second his knees would certainly buckle.
“No,” Rachel answered quietly. “But she is not past the worst of her illness just yet. It is good that you are here. At last.”
He went to her side and looked down at Amelia, the flush of a fever still hot on his daughter’s cheeks. He pressed a finger to her wrist and felt . . . life. A pulse, weak but steady. Love, deep and powerful and possessive, crowded his heart.
“Thank God she’s still alive,” James murmured. He bowed his head, sent a prayer of thanksgiving to heaven, and closed his fingers around Amelia’s wrist. Tiny, fragile. Precious to him.
“She has been fighting hard.” Rachel brushed a strand of wheat-gold hair back from Amelia’s forehead. “There have been moments when I feared the worst, but Mrs. Mainprice would not let my spirits or my faith flag.”
She smiled at the housekeeper, who’d been busy gathering up damp used cloths.
Mrs. Mainprice lifted a weary smile in return. “’Tis glad I am to see you, sir. Miss Amelia needs you both to help her make it all the way back safely.” She slipped out of the room, leaving James and Rachel alone together.
“Rachel . . .” Where did he begin?
“Yes?” She was surprisingly composed, though her eyes were red-rimmed with weariness, her hair coming undone from her braid, her dress crumpled from her efforts. Even in precious jewels and silks, she couldn’t look more like an angel to him than she did at that moment.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier. Dr. Hathaway was delayed in arriving at the Havertons’ . . .” James raked his fingers through his hair, as if ordering the strands could force order to his thoughts, his emotions. “Inexcusable, really.”
“All that matters is you are here now” Rachel’s eyes held no recrimination, only understanding. And forgiveness. “Mrs. Mainprice and I have done everything we know to do for Amelia—forcing liquids down her, keeping her cool and clean, quieting her fears. Praying. But when she called for you, there was no way we could answer that.”
“She called for me?”
Rachel nodded and reached for his hand, her fingers sliding to rest in the cup of his palm. “She needs her father. What child does not?”
Amelia needed him. Astonishment and awe spread warmth through his chest.
James pressed Rachel’s hand to his chest, held it close to his heart. “Thank you.”
“I did nothing.”
He lifted his other hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear, her skin warm against his fingertips. “You have done more than you could ever know.”
Sunlight slicing through the blinds struck Rachel directly in the eyes, making her cringe. She squeezed them closed and wondered, hazily, why the morning sun was hitting her in the face. Normally, it did not.
With a jolt, she lifted her head. Normally, she was not asleep in the upstairs attic room that faced east either.
“Dr. Edmunds?” Unfolding herself from where she slumped across the side of the bed, Rachel rubbed her eyes. She was alone in the room. When had he left? He had been at her side all night, bathing Amelia’s