Page 51 of The Remarkable Myth of a Nameless Lady
“What sort of turn?” Jacob strode past her into the house.
“He just started coughing, and now he can’t stop,” she explained rapidly.
“Let me see what I may do about this.” He shuffled off his outer tailcoat and rolled his sleeves up to the elbow. “I spent a good deal of time at sea. I have seen the afflictions that can affect men. Perhaps I may be able to make a difference.”
Alicia’s father glared over the top of his makeshift handkerchief. “You… keep your… distance!”
“Mr. Price, I know that you and I do not see eye-to-eye, and I know you believe me to be an enemy of yours, but I mean you no harm.” Jacob twisted his head back toward Alicia. “Do you have hot water?”
She nodded. “There’ll be some in the pot.”
“Pour some into a bowl and bring it to me,” he instructed, taking charge. Alicia did not quite know how to respond to this sudden authority. He may have been a Duke, but he had never shown this sort of assertiveness before. It was as if an entirely different man stood before her—confident and sure of himself.
Wasting no time, she took the cleanest bowl she could find and carried it to the pot that dangled over the fire. Wrapping a cloth around her hand, she tipped the pot toward the bowl and watched the steaming water cascade down into it. As soon as it was almost to the brim, she offered it to Jacob. He took it and knelt down beside Alicia’s father.
“I said… don’t you come… near me!” her father rasped.
“I may save your life, Mr. Price, but you have to let me,” Jacob said firmly. An exchange of stern glances passed between them, as Alicia observed, anxiety bubbling through her body. She did not know who might win this war of wills. Ordinarily, she would have been certain of her father’s triumph, but Jacob’s suddenly commanding presence had tipped the scales slightly.
Her father grunted, before descending into another harrowing bout of coughs. “Very… well. Do… what you think… is best,” he wheezed.
“Thank you. Miss Price, might you pass me that cloth in your hand?” Jacob reached out toward her, and she duly passed over the cloth.
He took it and put it over her father’s head, before setting the bowl on her father’s knees. Next, he pushed gently on her father’s shoulders, to get him to lean further over the bowl. Seeming to understand what was happening, her father took in the deepest breath he could. All the while, Jacob performed a juggling act of keeping the cloth tight around the bowl and holding the bowl steady on Alicia’s father’s unstable knees.
“Keep breathing,” Jacob urged. Her father did as he’d been asked, inhaling and exhaling as much as his troubled lungs would allow. Every minute or so, he would be struck with another bout of coughing, but Jacob made sure to keep everything steady. The water did not spill, the cloth did not shake loose, and her father managed to keep catching his breath between coughs.
Soon enough, the fits grew fewer and further between. Until, some ten minutes later, they had ceased altogether. Jacob waited a few minutes more before he removed the bowl and the cloth and set them down on the floor.
Alicia could have wept, but fear had claimed her tears, keeping them firmly within her eyes. Her father had some color back in his cheeks, his eyes no longer bulging, and his lips were back to their customary shade of pink. He took a deep breath and paused, as though expecting to be struck with another bout of wracking coughs. But it did not come.
“Can you breathe easier?” Jacob asked.
Her father nodded. “Aye, I’d say I can. What did you do?”
“Steam helps to alleviate maladies of the throat and lungs. I have seen the ship’s surgeon perform this often enough, when there have been men suffering through ailments, especially in the cold winters.” He offered a nervous smile. “Although, in your case, I suspect it is more to do with the smoke of this cottage. Do you also smoke a pipe?”
Her father squinted warily. “What if I do?”
“I would advise you not to, for a day or so, until your chest feels calmer. In the meantime, you should keep the windows and doors open as often as you can, to clear away much of this smoke.”
“Are you a physician or a duke?” her father muttered.
Jacob chuckled. “I am no physician, but I was a Navy man. As I said, I have seen similar afflictions in my time. Many of the sailors who spent a good deal of their day below decks also suffered as you do, for the same sort of reason.”
“Well, you needn’t go thinking this makes us any sort of friends,” her father retorted, though Alicia could see a softening in his expression.
“I would not dare to, Mr. Price.” Jacob gave a relieved smile as he got to his feet.
“What brings you here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be lording it over everyone at the manor?” Her father frowned at Jacob, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features.
Jacob stole a glance at Alicia. “Actually, I am here to speak with Miss Price. She was recently relieved of her duties at the manor, and I should like to remedy that.” Alicia knew it was a lie, but it was a clever one.
“Hmph, well, you can talk outside. I don’t want your kind in my house, and I don’t rightly care if you dislike my tone.Iam the lord in this house, and I say who I want here.” Her father turned his head and gazed into the flames, one hand pressed to his chest.
Alicia wished he would not be so coarse, but she could tell he was secretly relieved that Jacob had arrived when he had. His entire demeanor had relaxed, and his eyes shone, as if he might cry.
“Let us leave him to recover,” Alicia urged. She crossed the room and stepped out into the cold night air, drawing it into her lungs as though she were the one who had just suffered an affliction. Jacob followed her and made sure to close the door behind them.
