Page 42 of To Tempt a Scandalous Lord
Yet when he entered the girl’s room, it was clear that what afflicted her was much more than a cold.
Edith lay curled in a fetal position, a tiny figure in the large bed. Her skin was waxen, and her eyes were sunken into her little face. A bucket sat beside her bed, and Niall did not have to look at it to know it had been utilized frequently. Her sister, Eunice, sat on the cot next to her, holding a wet cloth to the girl’s mouth and encouraging her to drink from it.
Fear coursed like a drug through Niall’s blood. “Lady Firthwell didn’t mention she was faring so poorly,” he whispered to Mrs. Simpson, who sat in a chair in the corner of the room.
“That’s because I didn’t tell her.” The older woman wrung her hands together. “Edith deteriorated so quickly, I was caught unaware.”
Niall studied the young girl. What ailment had struck her so swiftly?
“Thank you for your help, Annie,” Mrs. Simpson said to a maid who had gathered a set of soiled sheets in a basket. “How many times have you had to change them this hour?”
“This is the second time this hour, ma’am.” Annie bobbed respectfully, then hoisted her load onto her hip. “She keeps getting worse. Poor child.”
“Do you have an idea of what she may have?” Niall asked.
Mrs. Simpson pressed her lips together and slowly shook her head. “I don’t. She complained about feeling poorly this morning at breakfast, and vomited not long after.”
“Are any of the other children showing similar symptoms?”
“Hannah complained of an upset stomach, and two of the younger boys have had several accidents today.” The older woman clenched her eyes shut. “I had not thought them related, but now I’m not so sure.”
Niall did not like the sound of things. “We should isolate the sick children into one room until we learn what they’re suffering from.” It wouldn’t do if everyone fell ill.
Working his jaw, Niall approached Eunice, dropping to the balls of his feet in front of her. “How are you feeling, child?”
The girl shook her head back and forth, her mouth set into a mulish line. “I’m well enough to care for my sister.”
“That didn’t answer my question, though,” he said as gently as possible.
Eunice met his gaze, fear palpable in her blue eyes. “I feel f—”
Her words cut off when she abruptly leaned past Niall to vomit in the bucket. Drops of spittle sprayed onto his hands, and he fished out a handkerchief to wipe them off, before offering it to Eunice.
“I think it’s time to get you to a bed,” he declared, nodding at Mrs. Simpson over his shoulder.
“But I don’t want to leave Edith,” she cried weakly, leaning over to press her face to her sister’s arm.
Niall brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “You don’t have to leave her. We’ll set your bed up right here next to her.”
This seemed to satisfy the girl, who nodded wordlessly.
Rising to his feet, Niall met Mrs. Simpson just outside the room. “We need to quarantine the other childrennow.”
“I’ve already sent word to the teachers.”
Niall glanced back through the door to where the MacLean sisters lay huddled. He had intended for his visit to the home to be a short one, yet he couldn’t leave knowing the girls were so ill. Mentally creating a list of what meetings he needed to cancel and potential benefactor visits to postpone, he paused when his thoughts drifted to Alicia. She would want to know what was happening, and she would no doubt insist on helping the staff care for the children.
Yet the situation was stressful enough without worrying about his vexing, alluring wife being nearby. And if she were to become ill…well, he wouldn’t allow himself to consider it.
Niall exhaled, refocusing on the sisters. His eyes snagged on a new stain on the sheets and his stomach dropped. “It appears we need to change Edith’s sheets again.”
“The poor sprite.” Mrs. Simpson rubbed her forehead. “I’ll speak with the maids about alternating the washing schedule so we ensure an inventory of clean linens.”
“And I’ll send around a note to the physician,” Niall said, turning immediately to see to the task.
“Do you believe he’ll come?” the older woman called after him.
A fierce determination settled in his bones. “Oh, I’ll make sure of it.”
