Page 14 of A Castaway in Cornwall
A few minutes later, dark-haired Perran came trotting down the stairs, bag in hand and expression somber. “Miss Callaway, Treeve said something about our patient taking a turn?”
“I’m afraid so. He has come down with a fever. Miss Chegwin is with him now.”
“Then let us waste no time.”
He donned his greatcoat and followed her out to the stable yard. He took one look at the ancient donkey and even older cart and called to the groom, “Saddle Lightning and quickly.”
He turned to her. “You get started. I’ll ride separately, if you don’t mind. That way, I’ll arrive sooner and won’t have to walk back nor ask you to venture out again with that nag.”
“If you think taking the time to saddle another horse will be faster?”
“Undoubtedly.”
As they stood talking, a fine barouche arrived. Laura recognized the mineowner Mr. Roskilly and his daughter inside.
Treeve came out to greet them, all charm and warmth.
“Ah, Mr. Roskilly and Miss Roskilly, welcome to Roserrow.” He offered the thin, dark-haired woman a hand down. “Come in, come in. My parents are eager to greet you. Sadly, my brother will not be able to join us after all.”
But Treeve did not look the least bit sad, and neither did pretty Miss Roskilly.
Laura turned to climb into the cart. Perry belatedly realized he should have offered her a hand, and ended up awkwardly cupping her elbow. Laura sent the young man a reassuring smile and urged the old donkey into reluctant motion, down the drive and back onto the sandy track that led to Fern Haven.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, Perry galloped up behind her on a black horse. She directed the donkey to the side and waved as he passed and rode on ahead, bag strapped to his saddle by leather cords.
Lightning indeed,Laura thought, impressed.
When she reached Brea Cottage, Jago was waiting for herand took charge of the cart and donkey. Laura thanked him and hurried up the rise and across the road to Fern Haven.
Perry was already in the guest room, pouring some liquid between the man’s lips.
“What do you think ails him?” Laura asked, panting to catch her breath.
“Lung fever, I believe. His lungs certainly sound congested, which is no wonder after nearly drowning. I’ve bled him and given him fever powder and an expectorant. He’ll need rest and quiet. There’s little else I can do.”
“I will help Laura nurse him,” Miss Chegwin said. “Together we shall see him through. He’s a strong Cornish lad, after all.”
Perry’s dark brows rose. “Is he?”
“Miss Chegwin spoke Cornish to him,” Laura explained. “He seemed to understand, even replied in kind.”
“Interesting. Well, I wish there were more I could do. I’ll return tomorrow to see how he fares.”
“Thank you. I would appreciate that. We all would.”
He closed his bag and looked up at her with a tentative smile. His smooth skin and large dark eyes gave him a sweet boyish appearance. As Miss Chegwin had said, he was not nearly as handsome as his older brother. Seeing him look at her the way he was now, however, a girl could easily forget he even had a brother.
But then Laura realized he was not looking at her but past her. She turned and saw Eseld in the passage just beyond the door. She was the recipient of Perry’s admiring gaze.
Unfortunately, Eseld saw no one but Treeve.
After Perry left, Miss Chegwin murmured, “All he can do, perhaps, but not allIcan do.”
The old nurse worked steadily. She alternated between building up the fire when chills racked his body and having Jago helpher submerge the man in a cool slipper bath when the fever spiked once more.
“We called it winter fever in my day,” she said, “seeing as it seems to strike when the weather turns cold, the old and the very young most of all.”
To help relieve his congestion and labored breathing, Mary asked Newlyn to bring in pots of boiling water. She placed them near the bed and left another large kettle steaming over the room’s fire. But Wenna complained to Mrs. Bray about the maid’s usual work falling to her, so after that Laura and Miss Chegwin split the work between them.
