Page 19 of Loving an Earl (Widows of Mayfair #1)

E mmeline, Lilly, and Aunt Vivian visited the widow Rutherford after breakfast the following day. The drawing room was full of people paying their respects. Lilly’s throat scorched in pain as she remembered the days after Henry’s death and how an endless stream of people from the village came by with their condolences. She’d never felt so alone in those days, even though she was surrounded by people. Looking at Letitia, her face pale, her eyes swollen, no doubt from crying and lack of sleep, Lilly wished she could take all her anguish and pain from her loss away. However she knew from experience it would take a long time before she felt even half herself again. Fortunately for her, she had a baby boy to give her love to and to occupy her time.

When they returned home several hours later, Harrison greeted them at the door.

“The doctor is here, Lady Langford. He asked if you would come to the earl’s chamber when you returned.”

Lilly’s stomach plummeted. “Is the earl feeling worse?”

Harrison looked concerned. “Best to speak to the doctor.”

Lilly removed her pelisse and bonnet and handed them to the butler. Ignoring Aunt Vivian and Emmeline’s worried looks, she picked up her skirts and hurried up the stairs, a knot of worry eating at her insides. The door to Langford’s room was slightly ajar, and before she entered, she listened and peered through the opening. Langford seemed to be moaning while the doctor was trying to soothe him with words and his hands on his chest.

“What has happened to Lord Langford?” Lilly demanded as she entered the room, making eye contact with a troubled-looking Mrs. Lewis and Mullens hovering to one side as she made her way directly to his bedside. She was afraid to look too closely at Langford. Afraid of what she would see.

“He has developed a fever, Lady Langford. His leg is infected. I removed the splint and stitches, drained the puss, and cleaned and rebandaged the wound. His leg is swollen, hard, and hot to the touch, which is not ideal. I will come back daily to monitor his progress. Meanwhile, the best thing for him is to sleep so his body can fight off the infection. He must get his dose of laudanum every four hours. I gave the cook a recipe for a tea that he must drink every four hours as well. You must force it down his throat if he won’t take it willingly—it should help fight the fever. And I mixed up a poultice for his wound that I will replace daily.”

“Is there a risk to his leg?”

“Yes. If the infection spreads throughout his entire leg, I fear it will need to be amputated in order to save his life.”

By then, Emmeline and Aunt Vivian had joined Lilly in Langford’s room, worried expressions on their faces.

When the doctor turned to them, he tried to look optimistic. “Let us pray it doesn’t come to that. He is young and strong, and I believe he can fight this. Meanwhile, I would prefer someone stay with him at all times.”

“He will never be alone,” Vivian said before anyone could speak.

“I will be back in the morning unless I receive word he’s taken a turn for the worse.”

Five sets of eyes followed the doctor as he left the room. Once the doctor left, the same sets of eyes made their way to Langford. “I’ll stay with him now,” Lilly said as she stood beside him, watching his body tremble with chills and listening to the moans escaping his lips.

“I will return in an hour, my lady,” Mullens said, his face drawn and pale.

“If you must, but I’m not leaving his side until the fever is gone.”

When she was alone, she bathed his forehead with a cool cloth. It seemed a contradiction. His body shook with chills while his skin burned up from fever. But she knew from experience a cool cloth helped ease the fever. If his body got too hot, he could die. She sobbed out loud. If she had to, she would stay at his bedside every minute of every day until he was well. She could not let him die. She wouldn’t survive burying another family member she... cared for.

His moans tore through her heart. Lilly rewet the cloth and bathed not just his face but his neck and what little of his chest was exposed due to his bandaged arm and shoulder. His uninjured leg found purchase and managed to drag the sheet and blanket down to his thighs. She looked away from his soft manhood, feeling as if she was invading his privacy. She covered him up to the waist and continued to bathe him, hoping and praying to bring his fever down.

A knock on the door startled her. “Come in.”

“My lady, I have brought the special tea the doctor asked the cook to make,” Mrs. Peterson, Emmeline’s housekeeper, said as she put the cup and saucer on the night table. “I also brought Mr. Mullens, knowing you would need help sitting his lordship up.”

“Thank you.”

“Mullens,” Lilly put the cloth down in the basin, “can you get him propped up on the pillows?”

“Yes.”

Between Lilly, Mrs. Peterson, and Mullens, they maneuvered his body up to a partially seated position—enough that Lilly believed she could get him to take the tea, which the housekeeper handed her with a cloth for any spills.

“Mullens, can you open his mouth for me?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Langford fought his valet, his head lolling from side to side. Finally, Mullens managed to open his mouth, and Lilly poured some of the vile-smelling liquid in. Mullens immediately closed his mouth, and Langford made gaging and choking sounds when he was forced to swallow. When they subsided, they repeated the process several times until the tea was gone.

Exhausted physically and mentally, Lilly was relieved when she and Langford were alone again. She collapsed into the chair, leaning forward, watching his every twitch, her ears straining to hear every moan or whimper, every breath he took. She was so afraid to close her eyes and miss any sign of distress. Her body trembled from anxiety, her stomach churned, and her head throbbed.

This went on all day. As the sun set, she went around the room lighting candles, afraid that if there was not enough light, she would miss any signs of trouble. She refused to let him die or his health deteriorate. Determined to break his fever and keep him comfortable, she spooned laudanum into his mouth every four hours. Every hour Mullens brought fresh, cool water so she could continue bathing him. When his sheets needed changing, Mullens, along with several footmen, oversaw replacing them.

What she was doing for him was for a wife or mother to do, not an unmarried widow who’d only seen a naked man once before. But even as exhausted as she was, she didn’t want to turn over her watch to anyone else. Somehow, this felt like her task, her responsibility, and she was afraid to leave his side, afraid that if she left, something horrible would happen. Her mind knew that her being with him as opposed to someone else had no influence over his recovery, but her heart wouldn’t believe it.

“Lilly,” Aunt Vivian’s soft voice traveled through the quiet darkness. “You need rest. We don’t want you falling ill from exhaustion. Please go to bed. I will take care of Langford as if he were my own son.”

She sighed, fighting with herself, knowing Aunt Vivian spoke the truth. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, she pushed herself to stand and stretched, easing her tired, sore muscles. “Thank you. I know you’ll take good care of him. In an hour, he is due for laudanum and his special tea.” She wiped stray strands of hair from her eyes. “Mullens will help you along with Mrs. Peterson and Mrs. Lewis.”

Lilly shuffled her exhausted body out the door. If Aunt Vivian said anything in reply, she didn’t hear it. When she reached her bed, she didn’t bother with removing her clothes. She climbed on top of the counterpane and fell into a sleep worthy of the dead.

When she opened her eyes after a dreamless sleep, she climbed off the bed and shuffled to a window and threw the curtains open. A miserable drizzly day greeted her. While she stood there it took several moments for her to remember why her mind was foggy and her body ached.

*

Two days later, Lilly awoke again with the same body pains and fuzzy mind from more long hours spent caring for Langford. She rang for her maid.

“My lady,” Daisy said as she entered the room with a bucket of warm water that she poured into a basin. “Let’s get you cleaned up so you can go see Lord Langford.”

“Have you heard anything? Has he improved?”

“I’m afraid not. Baroness Connolly, Mrs. Lewis, and Mr. Mullens are with him.”

“Please help me get ready. Any day dress will do.”

After Lilly was undressed, washed up, redressed, and her hair done up, she hurried out the door, making her way to Langford’s room. Rushing through the door, she whispered, “Is he better?”

Aunt Vivian’s frown answered her question, and her heart dropped.

“Dr. Bailey just left. He re-dressed his wound and resplinted his leg, saying the good news is that the infection hasn’t spread up the leg, which is promising. We just need to get the fever to break. He had tea and laudanum a half hour ago.”

“Thank you.”

Aunt Vivian made her way to the door. Before she exited, she turned and said, “If you need me, you ring for me. The earl’s sickbed is no place for a young lady such as yourself.”

Warmth kissed her cheeks. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

“Indeed, I figured as much. He will be furious when he finds out you have been nursing him during his sickest hours.”

No doubt he would be, but she couldn’t leave him. She’d forgotten about her anger with him for accusing her of lying to him and for that ridiculous list of potential suitors. She could be angry with him again later when he was well.

Once she was alone with Langford, she bathed his flushed, hot face, neck, and chest. He didn’t protest, and she didn’t know if that was a good sign or bad that his body didn’t react to the cool water. One change she did notice was that his breathing seemed less labored, more even and steady. Instead of moaning in his sleep, he was muttering words she couldn’t quite make out. All this gave her heart a bit of hope that he was on the mend.

Later that morning, Blackstone and Caldwell visited. “How is he?” Blackstone asked. For someone who was usually impeccably put together, he was looking quite worried and disheveled.

“Yes, is he any better?” Caldwell asked, his own appearance not faring any better than Blackstone’s.

“I think he may be a bit better than yesterday and last night. The doctor was pleased the infection hadn’t spread, which is positive news.”

Blackstone went to Langford’s bedside and lifted the sheet and blanket, frowning as he studied his injured leg. “I can’t see anything because of the bandages. If his fever would break, I’d feel more optimistic.”

“Me too,” Caldwell agreed.

“I see improvement from yesterday,” Lilly told them.

“We can sit with him if you would like a respite. Go have tea and something to eat. He’ll be fine with us.”

“I would appreciate that.” Lilly had come right to his room after dressing this morning, skipping breakfast, and at the mention of food, her stomach growled. “I’ll be back shortly.” She made her way downstairs to the morning room, hoping there was something left of breakfast, but the room had been cleared away of every last crumb. Making her way to the drawing room, Lilly found Emmeline sitting by herself. “I’m going to ring for tea. Will you join me?”

“Pardon?” Emmeline appeared lost in thought. She blinked her eyes several times. “Never mind, I heard you. Yes, tea would be lovely.”

“What has you out of sorts?” Lilly inquired as she pulled the bell for a servant.

“Blackstone came and spoke with me before he went up to visit Langford.”

“It is good he made a point to seek you out today.”

“Yes. Indeed it is.” Emmeline paused. “He invited me to the theater tonight.”

“That is wonderful news.” Lilly had never been to see a play herself, but it sounded like great fun. Perhaps someday.

“It is. With you and Mother seeing to Langford, it will be just the two of us.” She rose and paced the room back and forth several times before she stopped. “I’m nervous to be alone with him.” She threw her arms out. “This is my dream come true, so what is wrong with me?”

Lilly tried to be encouraging. “You love him. You have waited six years for him. Of course, you are nervous. Anyone would be. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with you besides being a woman in love and hoping for a future with the man of your nightly dreams.”

Emmeline’s mouth curved up into a knowing smile. “My nightly dreams do indeed involve Blackstone and me together in wedded bliss.”

Lilly pondered the words wedded bliss . Hopefully, she would experience such a thing one day. “Conquer your fears. Be brave, be assertive, and pursue your duke.”

Emmeline smiled wider. “You make it sound so easy.”

“With you and Blackstone, it may be that easy since you both already love one another. You just need to find out what is preventing him from committing himself to you, and help him overcome it. Until he does, I fear you both will be miserable.”

“How did you get to be so wise in affairs of the heart at your age?” Emmeline queried. “And never even having been in love.”

In love? Lilly wanted to be in love, but Emmeline was right—she hadn’t been yet. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t recognize it in others and help them if she could. “I’m not wise, just observant. And your love is easy to see.”

She frowned and became lost in her own thoughts pertaining to that elusive emotion. What would it feel like? Would she recognize it if and when it happened to her? What she felt for Langford was strong, but was it love? And what about Redford? Unfortunately, he didn’t strike anything resembling love into her heart—at least not yet—which was too bad. On the surface he was perfect for her, if a tad boring. But sometimes boring was good. He wasn’t out at his clubs or the gaming hells throwing his money away. Though a niggling feeling unfurled inside her stomach. How did she really know he wasn’t doing just that?

Enough thinking about Redford. “What shall you wear tonight?”

A smile lit up Emmeline’s face. Her cheeks pinked, and her eyes sparkled. She was getting excited about the theater with Blackstone. “I was thinking of the new ice-blue silk gown from Madam Serena. She outdid herself on it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful, with the unadorned silk bodice and the flowing skirt of delicate lace overlay. The matching cloak and gloves are just as beautiful. And when the light catches the silk and lace it shimmers.”

“He will forget his name when he sees you. With your dark hair and blue eyes, every lady in attendance will envy you both for your looks and for being on the duke’s arm.”

“It’s settled. I’m no longer nervous. I’m terrified.”

After partaking in two cups of tea and an equal number of biscuits, Lilly made her way up the sweeping staircase to Langford’s temporary room. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw Langford sitting up, his eyes open and listening intently to something Caldwell was saying. She swayed on her feet as relief flooded her body. “You are awake.”

“Lilly,” when he spoke, Langford’s voice sounded hoarse and weak, but it was the best sound she’d heard in days.

Tentatively, she approached his bedside. Why she was suddenly nervous was beyond her. As she studied him, she noticed several things. The redness on his face was gone. His brown eyes, though not fully aware, were no longer hazy from fever. His dry lips were curved up into a grin, and she found herself smiling back. “It is good to see you alert. How are you feeling?”

“I was just explaining to these two that I feel as though I was run over by a coach. And then I remembered that is exactly what happened.” He paused and ran the hand of his good arm through his disheveled hair. “I feel lucky to be alive. Devastated for Baron Winslow that Annabelle is dead. And if I can ignore the pain in my head, I’m angry that you and Emmeline traveled into St. Giles... and at night no less.”

“We already discussed this.”

“Please let me finish before I fall asleep, which is going to happen any moment. I understand about your charity, but not about the fact that you are venturing into the back slums when it is dangerous on so many levels. And I would like to discuss it at some length when I’ve recovered more.”

Lilly wanted to protest, but his eyes drifted closed and she knew the exertion of talking had depleted his energy.

“We will take our leave, Lady Langford. I will rest easy knowing he is in your capable hands.” Blackstone dipped his head. “Thank you. I am forever in your debt.”

“My thanks as well, Countess,” Caldwell said as he bowed. “You have brought our friend back from the brink of death.”