Page 74 of The Quiet Wife
“Probably not.”
“Should I bring more tea with me?”
She nodded and reached for the cup. He watched as she took a sip, then returned it to the saucer. The rattle told him how upset she was, and he forced himself to leave her so as not to make things any worse for her should Leyland deign to come home.
He walked to his own chamber and threw himself on the bed. He lay there a moment, then began gathering his sketchbook and charcoal. He spent an hour drawing furiously, before heading out for the kitchen to make more tea.
When he arrived at Elinor’s room, he found Frances struggling to prop her daughter up to give her more of the draught the doctor had left.
“Let me help.” He put the tea tray down and hovered, feeling helpless.
“Can you pour it in the cup?” Frances said, as she settled Elinor against her and wrapped an arm about her shoulders, clamping down Elinor’s arm that thrashed about. The child was moaning softly and even in the candlelight, he could see the sheen of fever on her face.
He poured and handed it to Frances, who tipped it against Elinor’s lips.
“Drink, my love,” she urged.
Elinor spluttered and coughed and tried to squirm out of her mother’s grasp, crying that she didn’t like it, but Frances kept a firm hold.
“Elinor, Jemie is here. Look. He’s come to tell you he will paint your portrait when you are well.”
Elinor blinked, eyes dull and glazed over.
“Jemie?” she croaked, then coughed.
“I’m here, pretty girl,” he spoke softly. “Will you let me paint your portrait?”
She nodded.
“Can you drink the medicine? It will make you better and then we can get started sooner.”
She nodded again and opened her mouth. Frances tipped it in, and Elinor swallowed before coughing again.
Frances let her lay back against the pillows and arranged the light sheet over her. She ran a cool cloth over her face, then kissed her forehead.
“Did Lizzie write to my husband?” she asked without looking up at him.
“She did. She sent a note with the footman.”
“How long ago?”
“As soon as you asked.”
“Has the footman returned?”
Jemie felt awkward not wanting to make her feel worse. “It… took him a while to find your husband. The footman returned about midnight.”
“I see. Thank you.”
Jemie took hold of Frances’ hand and brought it swiftly to his lips before letting it go and watched as Elinor settled down again and appeared to fall back to sleep.
“Perhaps you should close your eyes too?” Jemie suggested.
Predictably, she shook her head. “I can’t. I need to watch to see if she deteriorates.”
“Frances…”
“Ido. I’m sorry, but I do. I need to be here with her. If I’m going to lose her, I need to hold her hand and say goodbye when that moment comes. I can’t… can’t risk falling asleep and her slipping away.”
