“Sent the fastest footman just now, Mrs. Swinton. He should be back with him directly. But what is to be done about dinner?” Mr. McElroy wrinkled his brow with worry.
Evelyn felt a momentary flash of rage, then she remembered. The Duchess was expecting guests. Of course dinner would be of prime importance.
“I’ll see to it,” Jemmy said bravely. “Mr. Rudge already has most of it ready, so all that needs to happen is the last touches. You go on and see to Mr. Rudge, Mrs. Swinton. He’s frettin’ somethin’ fierce.”
Indeed, when Evelyn entered Mayson’s small room, Mayson was turning his head from side to side, and pushing Molly Sue away.
“No! Stay away from me!” he protested in a harsh tone.
“Oh, thank goodness!” Molly Sue greeted Evelyn. “I think he has injured his brain somehow.”
Evelyn hastened across the few steps from the door to Mayson’s bed, and sank to her knees, bringing her face near his head where it lay on the pillow.
“Mayson, Mayson, I’m here. It is Evelyn.”
“Evelyn?” Mayson fixed his eyes on her.
“I’m here Mayson.”
“Ah,” It was a sigh of profound relief. “My head aches, Evelyn.”
“No wonder! You have a great purple bruise forming on the side of your head. Molly Sue, is there any ice left in the ice house?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Swinton, I don’t believe there is. Would cold cloths soaked in the spring house be all right?”
“Better than nothing,” Evelyn said. “Can you...?”
“At once!” Molly Sue hurried away.
Mayson turned his face toward Evelyn. “I am not thinking properly,” he said.
“No wonder! But Dr. Alton will be here soon. He will know what to do.”
“Don’t let anyone else see me!” Mayson clutched at her. “Don’t give me to the butchers.”
“Dr. Alton. No one else. It will be all right.” She placed her hand against his cheek.
“You are here,” he said again, leaning into her hand. “I feel safe now.”
“You are, Mayson. I am here. We are all here for you.”
“Dinner!” he started up from his pillow.
“Will be fine,” Evelyn, gently pressed him back down. “Jemmy will finish it. He says you already had it well on the way, and that he can finish it.”
“Jemmy isn’t ready, Evelyn. He is not ready for a full meal.”
“He has help, Mayson. Mrs. Henshaw, Mr. Wilson, and even Mr. McElroy will help him.”
“Are you sure he can do it?”
“Yes, he can do it, it will be fine, Mayson.”
Just then Dr. Alton entered, and the room was suddenly far too small. Evelyn stood, pressing herself into the corner to make room.
“Well, now, what has happened to my favorite cook?” Dr. Alton asked heartily.
“I fell down the cellar stairs,” Mayson said, sounding almost like a hurt child.