Martha stood up and said, “Allow me to tend her.”
“Yes, well, see that you do,” Beck said.
Caroline didn’t know how Martha managed it, but she felt the room clear of muttering men. A moment later, Martha returned to her side. “I’ll get a compress,” she said soothingly. She disappeared again. Caroline’s eyes closed, but she felt she was not alone and opened her eyes to see the Arse of Alucia looming over her.
He touched a hand to her cheek and winced. “I’ve never seen you so quiet.”
Caroline wanted to roll her eyes, but they hurt. “I’ve never seen you so sober,” she muttered.
He smiled again, his blue eyes shining with delight.
“Please, Your Highness, allow me to tend her,” Martha said from somewhere beyond the bed.
The prince disappeared, and Martha sat lightly next to Caroline and pressed a cold cloth to her head. “Am I dying?” Caroline asked weakly. “Did you see them all? Assembled as if they expected me to go at any moment. If I am to die, Martha, please see that I’m buried in the yellow dress with the green sprigs. I worked so hard on those bloody green sprigs and I’ll have everyone take one last look at them.”
“You’ve a fever, that’s all, milady. Men are generally unduly alarmed when confronted with illness and all matters female. Pay no mind to their histrionics.”
“Thank you, Martha,” she said with a sigh. “Will you have someone bring me soup?” she mumbled, but could feel herself falling down that hole of dead sleep.
“Yes, miss,” Martha said from someplace far above her.
The weight on her bed lifted, and Caroline heard Martha quietly go into her dressing room. She rallied enough to push herself up and looked across the room to the mirror at her vanity. “Oh myLord,” she whispered, and fell back against the pillows. Of all the days for that bloody prince to show up.
Caroline tucked a pillow up under her head and was sliding away again when the door swung open violently and Beck appeared at her bedside. He frowned at her. “You have worried me terribly,” he said accusingly.
“Are you friends with him now?Fastfriends?” she asked. “You and Leopold?”
“Are you still nattering on about that? You must be delirious. To begin, he isHis Royal Highnessto you. And what does it matter if he is my friend?”
“It’s awful,” she whimpered. The worst of it was that her brother would never understand how disloyal he was being to her by befriending that man.
Beck sat on the edge of her bed and roughly caressed her damp head. “Dr. Calloway is being summoned,” he said softly. “Now see here, Caro, you mustn’t give me a fright like this. You really must mend yourself. We’ve already been through this, on the ship.”
Caroline didn’t care about mending herself now since those gentlemen had seen her in such a dilapidated state.
Martha appeared with a basin and a cloth, and Beck stood up so that Martha could take his place.
“You reallymustendeavor to mend yourself, Caro,” he added uncertainly.
With her back to Beck, Martha rolled her eyes.
Beck leaned over Martha, put his hand on Caroline’s leg and squeezed softly. “The house would be quite empty without you.”
“I won’t die, Beck. How could I? You’d be utterly lost without me,” she said as her eyes slid closed. “Now will you send everyone away? And I do meaneveryone. I should not like to seehimagain.”
“She’s delirious,” Beck said, his voice fading. “She doesn’t know what she is saying.”
Oh, Caroline knew very well what she was saying, but she didn’t have the strength to explain it.
CHAPTER NINE
A soiree was hosted by the venerable Lord Russell, our new prime minister, to celebrate his party’s victory. The gathering included their Lordships Hill, Eversley and Wellington, as well as His Royal Highness Prince Leopold. Noticeably absent from the celebration was Lady Russell, who has not been seen much about since her return from Alucia. Rumor has it that the new prime minister’s celebration went on until the bright light of the following day, at which time several of the guests were seen departing the mansion, with perhaps the notable exception of a prince, who was said to have gone missing just after midnight. Speculation is that he was not alone when he went.
Lady Caroline Hawke, a perennial guest at such gatherings as this, was not on hand, as she recovers from an illness brought on by bad seas and poor London air.
Ladies, a concoction of one part arsenic to every two parts honey will soothe the sorest of throats and fevers.
—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and