person his soul reached for like a plant to the sun—
The second was that Martin was going to die. That part really shouldn’t have come as a shock. For six months, Will had assumed that Martin was already dead, foolishly reasoning that nothing short of death would stop Martin from answering Will’s letters. He thought he had gotten used to the idea of Martin being dead. But it turned out that suspecting somebody was gone was quite different from the prospect of watching them slip away, cough by cough, under one’s own care.
Martin was going to die in a one-room gamekeeper’s cottage, under an assumed name, and with no company but Will. This, Will supposed, was no worse than his dying in a garret or an alley in London, which was likely what would have happened if Will hadn’t intervened (he was resolutely thinking of it as intervention, not as assault followed by kidnapping) so in that sense he hadn’t done Martin any harm. But they were already in Sussex, and Will had already deposited half the contents of his coin purse into the coachman’s outstretched palm, when it occurred to him that he really should have brought Martin to his aunt. So what if his last coherent words had been a plea that Will not bring him to his aunt? The fact was that he had a relation who could pay for doctors and seaside asylums and whatever else one was meant to do with a consumptive. Will had four shillings and a bottle of laudanum, and barely enough self-control not to drink it himself.
On a good day Will barely felt competent to manage his own life, and being responsible for another person’s—the most precious person’s—was daunting at best. He was not in the habit of eating regular meals or keeping predictable hours, but now he had to keep track of Martin’s medicines and make sure he drank and ate a few times a day. And Martin fought him every step of the way, as if Will’s ministrations were an annoyance, as if he wished Will had left him to rot in London.
They had a few things going for them, at least. The cottage was well stocked with oats, which was fine since a thin porridge was all he could get down Martin’s throat. He’d need to go to the market soon, but he couldn’t leave Martin alone yet, and he barely had enough coin to buy a round of cheese, but that was a problem for the future. There was enough firewood to last them through the winter, but if Martin’s fever didn’t break soon, they wouldn’t be needing it that long. If the worst happened, he’d have to write to Martin’s aunt to pay for the funeral expenses, but by then Martin would be in no position to complain about it.
At that thought, his eyes got prickly and hot. He stepped outside, hoping the cold air would clear his thoughts. It was almost dawn, the first rays of feeble winter sunlight just beginning to fade the night sky to the southeast. The cottage was nestled into the edge of the Ashdown Forest, with an open stretch of heath and meadow before it. In the spring it would probably be properly pretty, but now, only two weeks past the solstice, it numbered among the grimmer landscapes Will had ever seen. When he went back into the cottage, Martin was shivering again. Will could hear the sound of his chattering teeth all the way from the door. He hastened to the bed, grabbing the vial of willow bark tincture on the way.
“Time for a dose,” he said, trying to keep the panic from his voice. He laid a hand on Martin’s forehead and found that it was once again hot. His fever had been coming and going since they arrived, usually climbing as evening approached and abating during the night. But it was morning, and Martin’s forehead was hotter than it had ever been.
Martin turned his head away with a petulant little noise. Will tried to convince himself it was a good sign that he was being fractious even now. “Sorry, love, but you need to.”
“Let me die in peace,” Martin rasped. It might have been comically theatrical if Will didn’t believe Martin meant it. The effort of speaking brought on a coughing fit, so Will took out his handkerchief and wiped the blood from the corner of Martin’s mouth.
“Some other time,” Will said, and poured a spoonful of