Page 18 of The Duke and the Enigmatic Governess
“I’ve alerted Nurse, who is with her now. The little girl won’t leave her. Nurse tried to move the truckle bed into her chamber, but Sasha screamed and cried and refused to leave Miss Banks’ side.”
Shock hit him in an instant. The anger he had felt for Miss Banks drained away. Empty. His whole body felt numb as the creeping cold fear worked through his body. They had all somehow felt the threat of illness had passed. It had been five days and no sign of illness. Tomorrow, they had planned to leave quarantine. Now, the reality of illness and death returned.
He remembered the body of Sasha’s mother in the street. Death had come quickly. The thought of losing Miss Banks, Laetitia, maybe even before the end of the day was devastating.
Somehow, he managed to stand. He needed to see Lettie. He needed to ensure she was cared for.
“Has anyone sent for Dr. Carstairs?”
She nodded. “He’s on his way. Nurse insisted we fetch him, and she is making Miss Banks comfortable.” Mrs. Driscoll’s voice faltered, growing quieter until almost silent. “I think she may have the morbid sore throat, Your Grace. Miss Banks’ pallor is deathly white, and her breathing is very shallow.”
Jude felt his nails digging into the palm of his hands as he tried to steady himself.
Lettie, hang in there.
He paced the corridor outside Miss Banks’ room. Outside in the garden, the pear trees looked ready to join the cherry trees and burst into blossom. The sky was bright blue, alert with fluffy white clouds floating past.
He imagined a day in the future when he might be in the garden with Miss Banks, walking under the trees, the perfume of the blossom permeating the air.
The door of the sick room opened, and Nurse Walters came out, grim-faced.
“The poor lamb is exhausted,” she chided Jude. “She may be a governess, but I don’t think she is used to this much work, and she has had no rest looking after that poor wee mite.”
He entered the room and stood by the bed. Miss Banks was calm and motionless, but he could see the sweat beading on her forehead. Her eyes moved to meet his gaze and he saw the intense fear. She mouthed a word, and he leaned closer to hear what she said.
“Sasha?” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
“Don’t worry, Sasha is fine,” he reassured her. “All will be well. I promise.” He was making promises he had no power to keep.
“I’ve given her a sedative, a fine herbal potion I brought from Clairville. She needs rest more than anything.” Nurse Walters told him. “Sasha is awake but refuses to leave. Mrs. Driscoll will take her downstairs when the doctor arrives, but she can’t stay in here.”
Overhearing Nurse Walters, the child ran across to Miss Banks and tried to hold onto her. “I won’t go. I won’t leave Miss Banks,” she cried, and Jude could see she was close to hysteria.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Jude was pleased Sasha was talking again, and expressing her care and concern for Miss Banks.
They could not let her stay in the sick room, but it was impossible to move her when she was this upset. He knew it was the grief for her mother which was overwhelming the child.
Nurse Walters began to sing songs Jude recognized from his own days in the nursery, and she smiled at him when he joined in to sing with her.
He heard the rasp of Miss Banks’ breathing as she struggled for each breath. Jude had no thought for his own health. He needed to be with her, however inappropriate that was deemed to be. Miss Banks gave every impression of being a strong young woman. He refused to panic about the possibility he might lose her, she might die.
Sasha sat down in a corner of the room, the singing appearing to have soothed and calmed her. She was holding a doll, cuddling it close to her. Jude watched as she put it down on the floor and covered it with a blanket, tucking it around the doll, caring for it.
Nurse Walters sat down by Miss Banks’ bedside, holding a cold compress to her forehead. “There now, Miss Banks, you rest and get better.” Nurse Walters’ voice was soothing.
“Jude. You shouldn’t be in here with Miss Banks.” Only Nurse could get away with calling him Jude. She had been his nanny and nurse since the day he was born. To Nurse, he would always be her “little” Lord Jude.”
“There are very few of us here, Nurse. You, Mrs. Driscoll, and Rosie can’t do everything,” Jude responded, determined to stay.
“Indeed, you’re right. I’ve told Mrs. Driscoll to take Sasha to the parlor as soon as she can and keep the child there until we know what we’re facing. The trouble is, as you’ve seen, she refuses to leave Miss Banks. What a to-do.”
Jude moved over to Sasha and crouched down next to her. He waited for her to look at him and, when she did, he said her name gently and quietly. “Sasha.”
The child kept looking at him, big eyes, shining like saucers out of her tiny face.
“Sasha, I need you to listen to me. Miss Banks is very poorly, but the doctor is coming to make her well.”
She nodded and whispered, “Mama.”
