“That was very nice of you.” Audrey moved farther into the room, heard the young man step to the side as she approached the bed. She laid a hand on Molly’s forehead and winced. “Still so hot,” she murmured. “Please tell your mother to send up a dinner tray to me here when it’s ready, and also some ice from the icehouse.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The ice and some broth for Molly’s benefit arrived quickly, but a dinner tray never did. Audrey spent an hour using cooling cloths on Molly’s forehead, neck, and arms, over and over again.She wasn’t even hungry by the time she felt she’d done all she could.
Molly woke briefly, took a few sips of broth, but was never quite herself. It was frightening not to hear her amusing comments about whatever state Audrey was in.
When someone knocked on the door and stepped inside without introducing themselves, Audrey was too weary to pay attention to footsteps. Sighing, she said, “Yes?”
“Me mum sent me to sit with Molly, ma’am,” Evelyn said. “You should rest.”
“Thank you.” Whatever Audrey had to say about the servants, she could not doubt their kindness toward her maid. “I’ll return in a while.”
But she couldn’t sleep, although she tried. Her thoughts whirled in fear for her friend, and at last she decided to do something constructive. With no prying eyes to watch her, she began to go through the rooms on the first floor again, getting an understanding of what each bedroom contained. She moved with hands outstretched to feel each piece of furniture, and cement its place in her mind.
To her surprise, in the bedroom closest to the servants’ staircase, she found nursery furniture—a cradle, low tables and chairs, and several toys. Nothing was dusty, although whether that was from good cleanliness or recent use, she didn’t know.
She stood among the trappings of a baby, and thought again of hers, who’d been born dead. It had been almost two years. Why now was her grief so easily awakened?
Perhaps … the wounds were still raw because her own child would have given her life meaning, someone to love and nurture—someone who loved her for herself and wouldn’t care that she was blind.
At last, she left the nursery and closed the door behind her, trying to think of closing off the painful emotions, as well. Thiswas a reminder of the pain she never wanted to feel again, the grief from caring too much. Living on her own and the pride in her accomplishments would have to sustain her.
She returned to Molly’s room and relieved the reluctant maid. Audrey dozed in a chair by her side, to be there whenever Molly needed a sip of water, a blanket, or just companionship.
For several days,Audrey focused on Molly to the exclusion of all else. She had Francis take a note to Robert, asking him not to visit so he wouldn’t become ill. No one else had sickened but she didn’t want to take any chances.
There was an hour or two, in the dead of night, when Molly barely seemed to be breathing, and Audrey wept at her side, begging her to hold on, to fight to be well.
At last Molly’s fever broke, and Audrey had cried over that, too. She was still very weak, sleeping much of that day, her rest deep and genuine. She would have a long recovery—but at least she would recover.
Audrey went to the dining room for her first formal meal since … since Robert had last visited. The food was cold and late, as if the truce between her and the servants was over now that Molly would live.
Audrey went into the kitchen afterward, and when she called Mrs. Sanford’s name, found her and Evelyn in the adjoining scullery washing pans. Audrey could hear the sloshing of water, smell the strong soap.
“Mrs. Sanford, I’d like to speak with you.”
“Ma’am, when I’m done, I’ll?—”
“Evelyn can finish. Please follow me to the study.”
She listened as the housekeeper followed, her steps deliberate and heavy. Audrey took a seat behind the desk, then asked the woman to sit opposite her.
“Mrs. Sanford, much as I’ve appreciated all the help given Molly and me during her illness, I’d like you to concentrate on your duties now, and that includes the preparation of meals. You’ve only added two people, occasionally three. I cannot believe it is difficult to cook for us.”
“No, ma’am,” she said impassively.
“Will things be better in the future?”
“Aye, ma’am.”
“Then tell me about the nursery on the first floor.”
Her pause seemed overly long, and Audrey cocked her head with interest.
“There’s always been a nursery here, as far as I know, ma’am.”
“The room felt like it had been used more recently, with toys left out.”
