Page 114 of The Heir
“We’ve brought Dr. Clarke,” Jane announced.
And there was nothing else after that.
Chapter 53
It was a full week before Jane was allowed back into the princess’s room.
Thankfully, Father was too busy running about to pay her much attention. He was grimly, constantly busy—dispatching messages to St. James’s, to the newspapers, to the prominent families in the area, to friends. All of them were briskly reassuring and said that the princess had been ill, but the fever had now broken, and she was perfectly well now. Her physician, Dr. Clarke, was in constant attendance and advised that she should stay in the healthy seaside air for just a while longer before returning to Kensington Palace.
With all this to do, he took only passing notice of Jane’s story that she and Liza had come to Ramsgate because she planned to apologize to the princess for their quarrel.
Neither one of them spoke about her having brought Dr. Clarke, apparently against Father’s and the duchess’s standing orders.
“He thinks you managed it,” said Jane to Lehzen.Which you did, really.“When he has a moment to spare, he’s going to be terribly angry.”
“And we will let him,” she replied. “My appointment is from Their Majesties. He cannot dismiss me, a fact which, as you know, very much gets under his skin.”
The duchess was the one now meeting with Dr. Clarke. Their conversation seemed to involve her alternating between quizzing him and berating him, with an occasional sprinkling of lamenting over her own suffering and mistakes while Lady Flora held her hand.
So, it happened that Lehzen was the only person in the boudoir with the princess when Jane slipped inside.
“Hullo, Jane.” The princess’s voice was a light, rasping sound.
“Hullo.”
The princess was pale. The bones of her face pressed against her skin. Blue veins stood out clearly on the back of her hands.
Jane’s heart squeezed tight. “How . . . how do you feel?”
“A little better, I think. Dr. Clarke says my convalescence is likely to be a long one.” She rolled her eyes, and Jane suddenly did not think she could be happier. The princess was ill, she was weak, but she was still herself, and Jane had missed her.
“Did . . . What does the doctor say?” Jane asked.
Lehzen was the one who answered. “Dr. Clarke is quite certain it was typhoid fever.”
“Then it wasn’t . . . ,” began Jane.
“Poison?” whispered Victoria. “I thought it might be, too, but no.”
Jane knew it was not truly possible to melt from relief, but at that moment she believed she might.
“Jane,” breathed the princess. “Lehzen says you probably saved my life.”
Jane felt herself blush. “You should rest now.”
“I could have died, Jane. He . . . he was ready to let me die.” She turned her face away, but Jane saw what she did not say:Mama was ready to let me die.
“No.” Jane shook her head. “With you dead, what power does he have? Who will keep him at court?”
“Unless he was more afraid of what we might know than he was of being powerless. What did you find out from Mr. Rea?”
Lehzen looked ready to panic at this, and honestly, Jane could not blame her. She took the princess’s hand and pressed it gently.
“Get better,” Jane said. “Then I’ll tell you.”
“No, tell me.”
“Get better,” Jane said. “If you don’t, you’ll never find out, will you?”
