Page 37 of Snowy and the Seven Doves
Mr. Snowden, exhausted, had fallen into an uneasy sleep, and hardly stirred when a messenger arrived from the House of Blossoms with clean linen and blankets to make the bed. There was a bag of clothing for Snowy, too, from which he produced a nightshirt for Mr. Snowden.
Ash and Peter helped to move the patient from one side of the bed to the other so Snowy and Margaret could make it, and then said their farewells.
“I’ll have my cook’s assistant bring breakfast makings tomorrow morning,” Peter said. “She’s competent to take over your kitchen until you can hire servants. I’ll send some maids, too, Snowy.”
“And I shall send a couple of maids, too, Snowy, and some footmen,” Ash added. “Are you ready to leave, Margaret?”
“Not yet, Ash. Have my carriage take you home and come back for me.”
Peter protested. “We cannot leave you alone with two unmarried men, Margaret.”
“I won’t tell anyone if you will not,” Margaret retorted.
The two men exchanged glances and then inclined their heads in acceptance. When Snowy returned from seeing them out, he protested, too. “You cannot stay alone with me during the night, my lady. Tell me what I must watch for.”
“I am staying with my patient, Snowy. It is likely it will take both of us to care for him tonight. If you have paper and ink, I shall write a note for my household and send it with the carriage when it returns.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but must have seen the determination in her eyes, for what he said was, “Whatever fate did I offend that independent-minded women beleaguer me at every turn?” But his eyes were warm when he said it.
Margaret wrote to Pauline, telling her what had happened and asking her to stay at home to make sure that Aurelia did not countermand Margaret’s instructions for the old woman’s departure. Pauline was proving to be the perfect companion. She raised concerns about Margaret’s decision to leave her out of the rescue mission, but did not make a fuss when Margaret insisted. She would undoubtedly have concerns about Margaret staying here tonight, but she would do as Margaret asked.
It was a long night. Several times, Margaret and Snowy sponged Mr. Snowden—Ned, as Snowy called him—to bring down his temperature. Snowy sang to him when he was restless, and Margaret soon learned the words and took her turn with the singing.
Every few minutes she dribbled water into his throat, and from time to time she fed the young man willow-bark tea from a spoon.
Toward morning, the fever broke, and he woke with sense in his eyes for the first time. “Hal! You came!” He looked around. “Lady Charmain! You are here, too? Where are we?”
“In a house of my own, Ned,” Snowy replied. “One I have only just purchased, so it is a bit bare at the moment. But it has the advantage that no one will know where we are.”
“Ah.” It was a sigh of satisfaction as Ned’s eyes closed again. This time, his sleep was more settled and his breathing regular and deep.
“A natural sleep,” Margaret said, pleased.
Snowy took her hand. “You’ve done it, Lady Charmain. I am forever in your debt.”
As he bent forward, she turned her head and the kiss he perhaps intended for her cheek landed on her mouth, tentative and gentle. Margaret closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss. It had been a long time, and never like this. A kiss meant to be quick turned into a leisurely exploration that beckoned and enticed.
It went on forever and yet, was over too soon.
A knock on the front door downstairs broke through the pleasant haze that absorbed Margaret, and Snowy, too, drew back. She was pleased to see he looked as dazed as she felt. He shuddered as he took a deep breath. “I’ll see to that,” he said.
Chapter Fifteen
The man atthe door announced himself as Lechton, the doctor sent by Drew. He must have come straight from the scene of the fire, for he was rumpled and dirty, and carried a distinct odor of smoke around his person. He was also pale and hard featured with fatigue.
Snowy secured the door again. “Go on up, Dr. Lechton. Lady Charmain is with the patient. She has treated his wounds to eliminate the infection and given him willow-bark tea for the pain and the fever, but she will tell you.”
The doctor nodded. “Good. Lady Charmain is a skilled herbalist and an excellent nurse,” he commented.
By the time Snowy reached the bed chamber, the doctor was conferring with the lady. “Snowy,” she greeted him, as he stepped into the room, “Lord Lechton says that, since Ned is in no particular danger, he will go home and bathe, then return to set the arm.”Lord Lechton. So, another peer, and one who works as a doctor in the slums!Snowy’s disdainful opinion of the upper classes was taking a hammering.
“Perhaps you should take long enough to rest, my lord,” Snowy advised. “Ned is not going anywhere, and we can send for you if you are needed in a hurry.”
Lechton smiled, and even his smile was tired. “Probably a good idea. I am not at my best at the moment.”
“It was bad.” Lady Charmain’s statement had a slight upward inflexion but was not truly a question.
Lechton’s heartfelt sigh was her answer. “These slum landlords,” he said. “Making money off human misery and never a thought to necessary maintenance if they can add a penny to the rentals or shave off a farthing off the cost. It was overcrowded and poorly built. I have no idea how many people were in there, but I do know some did not make it out. As for those who did, and those who were injured fighting the blaze—too many patients and not enough doctors.”
