Page 24 of The Lady and the Lion (Victorian Outcasts #9)

twenty-two

V ivienne held her warm cup of tea with both hands.

She must have drunk a record number of hot cups of tea in the past three days, because her body didn’t only need the warmth but the fluids as well. High fever and cold shivers had plagued her. She didn’t stop coughing, and her lungs seemed on fire.

Dr. Tucker visited her every day, the maids never left her alone for more than a few minutes, and Mother essentially slept in her bedroom. She didn’t mind the attention and care, but being always with someone didn’t allow her to get news about Samuel from Dobkins.

The Regent’s Park skating disaster had killed more than forty people. Countless others were suffering from pneumonia or high fever; some were severely sick, and she had no idea if Samuel was safe.

The fever wasn’t her only problem. Her ankle was the size of a melon and burned every time she tried to walk. The damage wasn’t irreparable, but at the moment, it limited her freedom further. She needed help to walk to the water closet.

Cade’s presence in London topped every other worry. Hopefully, Samuel was all right and his silence was due only to him hiding from Cade.

Dobkins and a maid were cleaning the room—a daily occurrence—and she exchanged a few glances with Dobkins. Mother had blissfully left a few moments ago.

“Catherine, brew more tea for Lady Vivienne.” Dobkins gathered a basket of dirty laundry. “And take this downstairs.”

The moment Catherine left, Vivienne sat upright, wincing as her body hurt. “Do you have news?”

“I saw the captain briefly this morning. Samuel is well.”

She sagged against the pillow. “Thank heaven.”

“They moved to another flat in case Murdock and Cade surprised them.”

“As soon as I’m better—” She coughed. “I’ll go and see him.”

Dobkins’s eyebrows lowered. “My lady, I’m not sure it will be possible.”

“Why?” Her voice quivered.

“For starters, you aren’t well. The captain didn’t say anything explicit, but he hinted at the possibility for Samuel to leave London, at least for a while.”

“But he’ll come back, won’t he?”

“It wouldn’t be wise for you to see him now, and you are too ill to try. The captain doesn’t want to attract attention, and if someone is watching them, it’s safer if he and Samuel don’t get any visitors.”

The speech was reasonable, but her heart didn’t care. The last time she’d seen Samuel, he’d been half-buried in a freezing sludge, unable to move. The last word he’d told her was ‘ go! ’

She couldn’t allow that exchange to be their last one. “Can you give him a message?”

Dobkins squeezed her hand. “I can’t. I don’t know where the captain and Samuel live now, and unless the captain comes here, which is too dangerous, I have no means to contact him.”

“I’m here, darling.” Mother went straight to the bed and took Vivienne’s hand. “How do you feel?”

“I’m tired. Aside from that, I’m fine.”

She wasn’t. Her muscles lacked strength, her breathing was laboured, and sometimes she couldn’t stop coughing until she fell asleep from exhaustion. And she couldn’t even cross her bedroom with her ankle.

Mother caressed her head, her hand trembling. “I’ll do anything to make you feel better.”

“Darling.” Father walked over to the bed and hugged her gently. “You’re still warm.”

“I’m better. Really.” Another coughing fit belied her words.

The fear in Father’s eyes struck her harder than Mother’s concern.

“Good afternoon.” Dr. Tucker limped inside, carrying his black leather bag.

Mother nodded at Dobkins to leave, but before she did, she gave Vivienne an apologetic glance.

Mother sat on the bed. Her puffy red eyes were a stab to Vivienne’s heart. She hated seeing Mother so distraught. The pain was a rehash of what had happened with Adele.

Father kissed Vivienne’s cheek. “I’ll come back and check on you later, darling.”

She held his hand for a moment before facing the doctor’s beady eyes.

“How are you today, my lady?” Dr. Tucker opened the bag. His crooked smile didn’t reassure her.

“I feel stronger.” She coughed in her closed fist.

“Good.” He walked over to the bed with his uneven gait. “Let me check your pulse.”

“You shouldn’t have escaped,” Mother said.

“I truly am sorry, but I was tired of being cooped up in the house.”

“Do you realise the gravity of what you did?” Mother’s voice cracked.

“I do, and I’m sorry to have caused you such pain.”

Dr. Tucker examined her eyes and throat, and auscultated her heart. A coughing fit shook her, and sweat dampened her forehead. Heat and shivers coursed through her, a sign the fever was rising again.

He frowned. “You’re developing a double winter fever.”

Mother gasped.

“What is it?” Vivienne asked.

“Both your lungs are affected by pneumonia,” Dr. Tucker said. “Nasty, serious business. I won’t deny that. It is life-threatening.”

Annoyance more than fear caused her to jerk to attention. She’d met many physicians, but none of them had ever been so dramatic. Down-to-earth, yes, dramatic, no.

Mother looked as if she would crumble into a thousand pieces. There was a haunted look in her eyes. “She can’t die. She can’t! What can we do, doctor?”

“Absolute rest to start with. I’ll prescribe everything Lady Vivienne will need and treatments here. She can’t be moved.” He flashed his yellowed teeth. “But it could take weeks…or months.”

Vivienne didn’t respond. The constant burning in her chest, shortness of breath, and fatigue overwhelmed her and gave her the same diagnosis. She was losing weight quickly, despite the rich meals Cook prepared for her.

But she would be lying if she said she trusted Dr. Tucker completely. Or maybe she simply didn’t like the news and blamed the doctor.

“Vivienne?” Father’s deep voice came from the other side of the door.

“Come in,” she said, coughing.

Father narrowed his gaze on Dr. Tucker. “How’s my daughter?”

“Pneumonia, my lord, affecting both lungs. Extremely serious.” Dr. Tucker sighed dramatically. “Not good news, I’m afraid, but I’ll do my best to help her.”

Father hugged her again, and for some reason, tears welled up in her eyes.

Maybe because she could be fragile and scared with her father. For the first time since she’d returned home from the hospital, a sense of fear chilled her.

She swallowed a couple of times, leant against him and whispered, “I’m sorry, Father.”

“It’s not your fault.” He hugged her more tightly.

Mother cried silently, holding her hand.

Dr. Tucker cleared his throat. “Lord Huntington, under my guidance, she can survive. But it would be unprofessional of me not to mention the risks of long-lasting impairments. A pneumonia so strong might cause lung scarring, and in general, other health problems with the airways. These conditions will cause persistent shortness of breath, fatigue, chest pain, and general weakness, increasing the risk of a cardiac arrest.”

Mother sobbed in earnest now.

“What are you telling me?” Father sounded angry.

The doctor didn’t flinch. “I mean, Lady Vivienne’s health might be permanently damaged and her heart might stop beating without the right cure, granted she survives the pneumonia, that is.”

Father tensed, his arms tightening around her. “Don’t worry, darling. You will be fine.”

She was overcome by another coughing fit and realised how serious this was, and for the first time she was scared.