Page 94 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“In time for the gala, Miss Rose. It is only two days away.”
Rose’s mouth fell open in blatant shock.
“Two days!” she cried. “I have been in here for four days?”
“I am sure this is all very distressing, Miss Rose,” the Abigail said softly. “His Grace said very much the same thing.”
“He is all right then?” Rose demanded. “May I see him?”
“The physician wishes for all of you to stay apart while you recover. He fears that you will continue to pass along your fever should you contact one another.”
Rose bit on her lower lip, wondering if this was all some terrible coincidence or if something much more sinister was at play.
“Lord and Lady Arlington? They have fully recovered?”
“Indeed. They remain somewhat fatigued but Dr. Ferner says that is to be expected. The duchess has ordered them to remain inside until they have fully recovered.”
Rose longed to see their faces for herself, to ensure that they were not in worse shape than Trudy professed but the governess had no cause to fib about such a thing.
Trudy does not appear concerned in the least,she thought and the realization comforted her somewhat. She knew that Trudy cared deeply for the Arlington children also. Yet who could be trusted? Was Trudy working for Balfour in some way, possibly making her sick?
I am going mad,she decided.I cannot think this way!
“Duchess Buford will be happy to learn you are feeling better,” Trudy said, turning for the door. “I imagine she will wish to see you for herself.”
“How is it that you and the duchess did not fall ill?” Rose asked but again, the servant had no response to the inquiry.
“Theodore, the captain and I are of peasant stock,” Trudy replied, a teasing lilt to her voice. “I cannot speak to why Her Grace did not fall sick.”
“Captain Balfour and Theodore were also exempt from this mysterious illness?”
Trudy eyed her warily.
“It is the way it happens sometimes, Miss Rose. Perhaps it lingers and we shall get our chance later.”
“I should hope not!” Rose cried and Trudy smiled.
“As I said, we have peasant bones. Our constitutions are accustomed to disease.”
“I thought mine would be too,” Rose murmured as Trudy left. She could not recall the last time she had been with fever.
Possibly in childhood but try as she might, Rose could not envision herself, lying in bed, losing not just hours but days as she struggled to untangle reality from imagination.
This is not chance,she thought.We fell ill at the same time and just as I was going to Nicholas with my suspicions about Balfour.
She bolted up, the soup sloshing about the tray but she barely noticed in her haste to look about.
Oh no…
Her eyes scanned the tabletops and reached toward the nightstand to pull open the drawers. Rose shoved the bowl aside, again standing on quivering legs.
Where was the letter from Lieutenant Walters? She tried to remember where she had last seen it.
I read it and brought it back to my chambers where I hid it in the writing desk.
Rose stumbled toward the intricate wood desk and lifted the hatch, digging through drawers almost maniacally. The envelope was nowhere in sight and the harder she looked, the more she realized that it was not an accident that the letter had gone amiss.
Just as it was no accident that we are all sick but for the ones Balfour needs in whatever devious scheme he has hatched.
