Page 43 of Earl of Excess
The woman infront of him stared at him with a pained expression.What is going on? Edward Sinclair had found Matthew. The British ships were gone, and he wasn’t sure how he would get him home, but by God, he had found him!
“Miss Phillips... is there something amiss?” he persisted. “Is Lord Longueville here?”
“You stopped at my home almost a month ago,” she intoned.
“Yes, I did.” He studied her for a moment. “I asked you then if you had seen the man. You told me you did not know the man. Yet, he is here, is he not?” he said, arching a brow. Sinclair realized his tone had been harsh and gentled it immediately. “Miss Phillips, I apologize. I fear I have put my worst foot forward in this.” He was growing more concerned by the moment. Had something happened to Longueville? “I am a family friend, engaged by his father to find him. He lost contact with him shortly before his regiment came to Louisiana. His family is anxious about him. They feared him dead. This is an enormous country. I finally tracked him to New Orleans yet found no sign of him—dead or alive—on the battlefield.” He blew out a long sigh of exhaustion. “You said you had not seen him.”
“Yes. I did,” she said.
“Yet, I am in receipt of the letter you wrote to his family, Miss Phillips. And you have Lord Longueville.”
“You stole my letter?” She exhaled slowly and studied him.
Did he detect relief in her tone? He watched her curiously as she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. A different woman stood before him.
“I did not know he was the same man. I rescued Colonel Matthew Romney from the battlefield,” she said, looking him in the eye.
Suddenly, it dawned on him. She had told him the truth, as she knew it. He felt like a cad.
“Please accept my humblest apology. I realizenowthat you would not have known his titled name,” he said, contritely.
“I owe you an apology as well. I had not understood.” Her face contorted with pain. “Perhaps it would have been...betterfor him, had I known. He is blind and now, it seems, he has yellow fever.” She felt the hot tears roll from her eyes and swiped at them. “He is very sick. I had hoped he could finish recovering.”
“Lord Longueville has yellow fever?” Sinclair felt terrible for the young man. He recalled getting yellow jack and miraculously surviving it. It was the sickest he could recall being in his entire life. “How can I help?”
“No, you cannot help. You can catch...” Bethany began.
“No. I have had it already, and hope to never have it again,” he interrupted and then lamented his rudeness.
“Yes.” She backed up and allowed him to come into the house, leading him into the front parlor. “Please wait here.”
Miss Phillips exited the room, leaving her dog behind. As if given silent instructions, the dog jumped into the chair opposite him and sat, watching.
A few moments later, an older woman with a thick grey braid wrapped around her head in a crown-like hairstyle followed the young woman back into the room. She was wiping her hands on her apron.
“My granddaughter tells me you are the gentleman that visited shortly after she and Dandie rescued the colonel. I tell you in all sincerity, my Bethany did not know the man you were looking for is the same man who lays gravely ill in the bed in the back. However, we are grateful that you have returned. Bethany tells me you have already had the fever. That is good.”
“Why do you say that?” he pushed.
“The young man is very sick, and he had just recovered from the bad wounds received on the battlefield. His body is still weak. We are doing our best to help him,” Grandmère said in soothing tones.
“Do you have some experience helping with illness?” he asked. “Is there a doctor near that I can summon?” An alarming sense of panic clawed at him. How would he tell Romney that he had found his son, only to lose him? The grief could overwhelm the man. He knew Matthew to be adored by the older Romney.
“I am an herbal healer, as is my granddaughter. Your colonel could not have been luckier than to have been found by her. However, we will need to pray hard, for he is very sick. And with his recent illness, it could take him some time to recover—if he can recover.” Her voice was solemn.
He swallowed hard. “May I see him?” He wanted desperately to lay his eyes on the boy. He had tracked his units down the east coast, only to lose him on the battlefield.
“You may. Please wear this to keep the miasmas away.” Grandmère handed him a clean scarf. He noticed the women had donned them, as well.
Sinclair tied the scarf around his face and followed the ladies to the back bedroom. He paused at the door when he saw Romney laying on the bed sleeping. He walked to the side of the bed and gripped the young man’s hand. “Romney, I did not track you down only to lose you. We will get you feeling better. I promise.”
Matthew’s eyes fluttered and opened.
Sinclair noticed he seemed to look past him, rather than at him. He was blind.
“Sinclair, is that you?” Romney asked weakly. “What are you doing here?”
“Your father sent me to find you. Your family is worried.”
