Undressed by the Earl (31 page)

Christine hesitated. “He told me to never go up there.”

More likely this had to do with the first Lady Castledon. Perhaps David had stored his wife’s belongings in the attic. “You were younger then,” she said gently. “He probably thought you might fall down the stairs. They are rather steep.”

“He told me not to go up there,” Christine repeated. Her hands clenched against the lilac muslin, as if she didn’t know how else to protest.

Amelia didn’t know what to say to that, but it was clear the girl believed it. “Well, if you don’t want to see the gift he left, I won’t force you.” She stood and walked with Christine back to the doorway. For a moment, her stepdaughter swayed, as if fighting off dizziness. Christine reached out a hand to the wall and caught herself.

“Are you all right?” Amelia wasn’t certain if the girl was still weak from her earlier cold.

“I’m fine. I just felt faint for a moment.” Christine took several deep breaths and tried to steady herself. “And my toes are tingling. It’s strange.”

Amelia offered the girl her arm. “Perhaps walking will help. Sometimes my feet feel that way if I’ve been sitting for a while.” She eyed the girl. “Do you want to go into the attic to see the surprise, as long as you don’t touch anything?” After all the hard work, Amelia wanted to see her stepdaughter’s reaction.

“I suppose my father might not know I was there,” Christine amended. “Don’t tell him
or
Mrs. Menford. She tells him everything I’ve done wrong.”

It was the peace offering she’d hoped for. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Mrs. Menford had been wise enough to retreat after Mrs. Larson had explained the full extent of her duties and the consequences of disobedience. Though Amelia wasn’t entirely eager to keep the disagreeable woman on her staff, it did seem that she had relented.

Amelia smiled and offered Christine her support while they went down the hallway. Although the girl still seemed a little dizzy, she linked her arm in Amelia’s.

They walked up to the third floor, and at the top of the stairs, she opened the small doorway leading to the attic. “Go inside and see.”

Christine entered, while Amelia stood back to watch. The interior of the space was lit by the sunlight filtering through the windows. A small desk rested right beneath the window, and there was a stack of fresh paper along with different quills and inkwells.

The moment she saw the desk, Christine went still. She spoke not a word, but stood before the desk, staring at it. Amelia waited for her to say something, but her stepdaughter remained quiet.

“Is it…not what you wanted?” she ventured.

Christine crossed her arms, clenching her shoulders as she turned to face Amelia. “My father didn’t give me this gift.
You
did.”

Something in the girl’s voice warned Amelia not to argue. And so she simply nodded once. “I thought you might like a place of your own where you can write your stories. We could even build a seat beneath the window and add cushions where you can curl up and read.”

The girl let out a breath and touched one of the pieces of paper. “I never told him I like to write. Papa doesn’t know.”

“Was it meant to be a secret?”

Christine shook her head. “But he never asks me what I like to do. He’s kind enough, but for so long, he never seemed to notice me.”

Amelia saw the vulnerability the girl was trying to mask. “He abandoned you for too long.”

Christine shrugged. “I don’t suppose I was very interesting when I was little.”

“It’s hard to be interesting when your father is always gone.” Amelia leaned back against the desk. “I think we should pay him a visit at Thornwyck, don’t you?”

“He’ll be furious with us.”

“Oh, undoubtedly. But don’t you think it’s time that we became interesting to him?” She picked up a piece of paper. “Why don’t you write a story about an earl who abandoned his only daughter, and she was rescued from her tower by a handsome prince?”

A smirk stole over Christine’s face. “No prince would come after me.”

“Or perhaps the daughter climbed out of the tower and ran off with the prince before her father returned?”

Her stepdaughter’s face softened at the story idea. “Perhaps.” She went over to the attic window and opened it, letting in the fresh air. “You’re not that bad, you know. As a stepmother.”

“I might have lured you here to lock you in,” Amelia suggested. “I might be worse than you expected.”

The girl climbed up on the desk, not responding to her teasing remark. She shielded her eyes against the sun and said, “There’s a widow’s walk on top of the house. Did you know?”

Amelia’s stomach lurched when she saw where Christine was pointing. “I see it.”

“I’m going to walk outside and look over the grounds. Do you want to come?”

The idea of standing on the rooftop of the house was not a welcome one. “No, and I don’t want you to walk out there, either. You could fall and be killed.”

“There’s a railing up here,” Christine said. “It’s perfectly safe.” She took one step onto the roof, and Amelia scrambled forward.

“Please come back. Truly, your father wouldn’t want you out there. And neither do I.”

“It’s a lovely view.” Christine rested her hands upon the railing, staring out over the landscape. “You should come and join me.”

The thought of setting a single foot upon the rooftop terrified Amelia. “I can’t.” Her heart was pounding so fast, she could only bring herself to call out, “Christine, you must come back.”

The girl let out a sigh and said, “All right.” She took a few steps back toward the window, then suddenly swayed without warning. Her knees buckled, and she grabbed the edge of the chimney to keep from falling.

A scream caught in Amelia’s throat, but she clamped her mouth shut to keep from startling the girl more. “Hold on, Christine. I’m coming.” She ignored the shudder of panic rising in her stomach. Her stepdaughter was on her hands and knees, terror in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” The tears started to come, and the girl’s knuckles were white against the brick. “All of a sudden, my feet went numb. I don’t know what happened. I couldn’t feel anything when I took a step.”

Amelia climbed on top of the desk, and when she risked a look down, her fear doubled. Oh, dear God, if she made a single misstep, she would die.

Don’t think of that
, she warned herself. Instead, she focused her attention on Christine’s pale face. The girl was shaking, and Amelia ventured onto the roof, keeping to her hands and knees for balance.

“I’m going to help you get back inside,” she said. Her words were calm, belying her own dread. “I want you to try and sit on the walkway.”

“I’m afraid,” Christine sobbed. “Why can’t I feel my legs?”

Amelia didn’t answer, but kept all her attention on reaching the girl. “Don’t worry about that now. I’m going to help you back inside first.”

Silent prayers rose up inside her when she finally was able to touch Christine’s hand. “Can you crawl forward?”

“I don’t know,” she wept. “I might fall. I don’t want to die.”

“That won’t happen,” she promised. Though inwardly Amelia wanted to join the girl in her tears, she had to be strong. “I’m going to crawl behind you, and I’ll make sure you don’t fall when you move back inside.” Blood pulsed hard within her veins, but she forced back the fear. “Don’t move.”

It was awkward, trying to crawl around Christine on the narrow walkway leading to the roof, but she managed. Only when she was seated behind the girl did she coax her to crawl forward.

One of Amelia’s legs dangled down the side of the roof, and if she leaned too far to the right, she would tumble to her death.

God help us both
, she prayed. Once, Christine’s knees swayed, and Amelia grabbed the girl by the waist to steady her. “It’s all right,” she soothed. “We’re almost there.”

The last three minutes seemed to become an hour, and Amelia could hardly breathe until Christine reached the window. Only when they were both safely inside did she allow her own tears to fall.

The girl launched herself into Amelia’s arms and sobbed out her relief. “I’m so, so sorry for what I did. I should never have walked out alone.”

Amelia hugged the girl back, and at the moment, she wasn’t certain if she could take a single step of her own. “I think we both should have a cup of chocolate right now. With the biggest slice of cake Mrs. Larson can find for us.” She pulled back and wiped her eyes. “Are your legs any better?” It was then that she realized that Christine was still holding on to her for balance.

Her stepdaughter shook her head. “I can’t feel my feet or my ankles.”

Amelia kept her arm around the girl’s waist. “Can you walk at all?”

“I can. But it feels so strange.” She leaned against Amelia, her feet shuffling along the floor. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

An awful premonition struck Amelia, and though she put on a brave face for the girl, inwardly she was shaking. It wasn’t right for her to be unable to feel anything in her legs, and her stepdaughter needed to see a doctor.

Her sister Juliette’s husband, Dr. Paul Fraser, was a skilled physician as well as the Viscount of Falsham.
He
would know what to do, and she trusted him far more than anyone here. She decided to write to him today and ask him to come and look at Christine. Thankfully, Castledon was only a few days’ journey from Edinburgh. She felt confident that Dr. Fraser would know what to do if something was wrong.

“I’m going to send for the best doctor I know,” Amelia reassured her stepdaughter. “But I don’t want you to worry. It might be some lingering problems from your cold. Your body may be overtired.”

Christine gripped her harder around the waist as they went down the attic stairs together. “What if it isn’t? What if I’m going to die, just as my mother did?”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as all that,” Amelia soothed. “And Dr. Fraser is the best physician I know. He’s married to my sister Juliette.”

Her stepdaughter said nothing more as they returned downstairs. True to her word, Amelia ordered Mrs. Larson to fetch them a pot of chocolate, as well as cake for their tea. Although Christine was able to walk, she seemed unsteady on her feet. When they reached the parlor, the girl sank gratefully into a chair.

When Mrs. Larson returned with a tray containing a pot of chocolate, sponge cake, and plum preserves, she fussed over the pair of them. “Now, now, my lamb. Ye look as if ye’ve seen a ghost! Puir child, have some cake to put the roses back in yer cheeks.”

Christine brightened a little. After the housekeeper left the room, she leaned in toward Amelia. “She’s not at all like Mrs. Menford.”

“Thank goodness.” Amelia added a nip of sugar to her cup, then took a sip of the creamy chocolate. “Perhaps she might convince your housekeeper to mend her ways.”

Christine took a spoonful of plum preserves and cake. From the way she was shifting her feet, Amelia knew the numbness hadn’t ceased. “Mrs. Menford has been here for as long as I can remember. Even when my mother was alive.” There was a trace of guilt, as if the girl didn’t want the housekeeper to leave.

“I will allow her to stay,” Amelia said. “But only if she obeys my orders.”

Christine picked at her cake and ventured, “I wasn’t very kind to you when you arrived. I was angry that my father married you when I’d never seen you before.”

“Do you still wish he’d married your governess?” Amelia asked.

“Not anymore. Miss Grant would never have let me eat cake and drink chocolate.” She took another bite, then set the plate aside. “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling very hungry right now.”

“Why don’t you have a lie-down, and perhaps your feet will feel better?”

The girl nodded, but as she tried to stand up, her balance swayed again. “I’m having trouble walking.”

Amelia went to her side. “I’m going to help you back to your room. And once you’ve rested, I’m certain it will go away. Try not to worry.”

But though her words were cheerful, she couldn’t stop her own rise of fear. She’d never seen anything like this, and as soon as she reached her own room, she penned a note to Dr. Fraser with orders for it to be delivered with great haste.

Then she wrote to David, asking him to come home immediately.

Chapter
T
hirteen

O
NE
W
EEK
L
ATER

D
avid wasn’t certain what to think of Amelia’s note. Her terse command to
Come home now
sounded entirely out of character. He bristled at the idea of returning when she hadn’t bothered to give a reason.

He was within a mile of Castledon, but he couldn’t help but wonder what was happening and why she was so adamant that he should travel home immediately.

When he arrived at the estate, the coach drew to a halt. David disembarked, only to find a strange silence upon the grounds. A sense of foreboding came over him the moment he walked toward the house. Hastening his pace, he went inside, only to find grim expressions on the faces of his servants.

“What’s happened?” he asked Haverford.

The butler shook his head and let out a slow breath. “My lord, I fear it’s your daughter. She’s unwell, and Lady Castledon has—”

David didn’t wait for the man to finish, but ordered, “Send for the doctor if he’s not here already.”

“But my lord—”

He was already hurrying up the stairs, two at a time. Though he didn’t know what was wrong, the mood of the servants was entirely too somber. He could sense the presence of death, and God help him, he couldn’t endure this again.

Without knocking, he tore open Christine’s door and found Amelia seated at her bedside. The moment her eyes met his, he saw that she’d been weeping. His daughter’s skin was the color of snow, and she appeared lifeless.

“Thank God you’ve come,” Amelia said, rising to embrace him. And though he knew he ought to hold her, he couldn’t bring himself to return the affection. A coldness had taken root, a numbness of fear that blotted out all else. His daughter was fighting for her life, and all he could pray was,
Dear God, not her, too
.

“Where is the doctor?” he demanded, stepping back.

Amelia’s face brightened, but she said, “Dr. Fraser should be arriving today. I thought he might be here yesterday, but I suspect there was a delay.”

He wasn’t certain who she was talking about, though the name Fraser seemed familiar.

“My sister’s husband, the Viscount of Falsham,” she reminded him. “He’s the best physician I know.”

“What of Dr. Greenford?” he asked. The local physician had treated Katherine’s wasting sickness, never leaving her side. Even at the end, the man had given her medicine to ease her pain when she was dying. “Why have you not sent for him?”

“She dismissed him,” Mrs. Menford said briskly as she entered the room carrying a kettle of hot water. “Lady Castledon told him not to return.”

David was aghast at that. Why would she send their only doctor away, to wait for some Scotsman who lived several days’ journey from them?

“Dr. Greenford was making her worse,” Amelia said. “He was trying to bleed her.”

“Bleeding is a respected method of treatment,” he argued back. “All the physicians do so, when it is necessary.”

“I cannot see any good reason to weaken our daughter further, when she’s already so ill.”

It was the first time he’d heard Amelia refer to Christine in that way. Before he could wonder what to make of it, his daughter opened her eyes. “Papa, are you here?”

“Yes, sweet, I am here.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. To his shock, her fingers were limp, and she didn’t hold his hand in return.

A dismayed smile touched her mouth. “I can’t move my hands and feet anymore,” she whispered. “The sickness is creeping up my limbs.”

Horror filled him at the thought. “What do you mean?”

His daughter let out a shaky breath. “It started a week ago, with my feet. They were tingling, and I couldn’t feel them. Then it spread to my legs and my knees until I couldn’t walk. Now it’s up to my hands.”

David turned to Amelia, who was gripping her palms together.

“Papa, I don’t want to die. But I’m afraid of it spreading higher.”

“We’ll find the right medicine for you,” he promised. “If we have to hire the best physicians in London.”

“They couldn’t save Mother,” she whispered. “Why would they be able to save me?”

“Because you’re young and stronger than she was.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Rest for a moment, while I talk to Amelia in private.”

David stayed with her a moment, until he was certain she had calmed herself. Then he reached for Amelia’s hand and led her outside the room. The fury of helplessness came over him, and as he guided her toward his own bedchamber, she winced. “David, you’re hurting me.”

When he’d closed the door, he demanded, “Why didn’t you hire every doctor in Yorkshire to come and see her? Why would you send our best physician away while you wait for a doctor who might not come? If she dies…” He couldn’t even grasp the thought for fear that imagining it would make it happen.

A flare of anger caught in Amelia’s eyes. “You weren’t here when she first got sick. You decided that going alone to one of the estates was more important. I had to make the best decisions I knew how, and I knew Dr. Greenford would kill her if I let him continue his ‘treatment.’”

“You don’t know anything about medicine,” he argued.

“And neither do you! But I know enough to see when a little girl is getting worse instead of getting better. He was heating up glass cups and searing her skin with them!”

Amelia was openly crying now, but he could make no move to comfort her. This was his only daughter. His last living piece of Katherine.

“I’m sending for Dr. Greenford right now,” he said.

But Amelia shocked him when she stood in front of the door, blocking his way. “She’s my daughter too, now. And I won’t let that man hurt her.”

“Dr. Greenford has been our family physician for over twenty years,” he argued.

“How do you know Katherine didn’t die at his hands?” She had her hands on her hips, glaring at him. It was a low blow, but he knew the doctor had done everything in his power to save his wife.

“She was too sick for anyone to cure.”

“Was she?” Amelia asked. “Or is that what you tell yourself?” She stepped aside from the door and warned him, “I trust Dr. Fraser to help her. He is one of the best physicians in Edinburgh. After he inherited his uncle’s title, the Viscount of Falsham, he’s continued to write medical treatises and research the best ways to help his patients. He’s traveled through Scotland and England to meet with many doctors. If anyone can save Christine, it’s him.”

“But he’s not here,” David gritted out. And he wasn’t about to wait for a man who might not come.

“He
will
be.” Amelia softened her tone and opened the door. “I don’t want to fight with you. Christine shouldn’t hear us snap at each other, not when she needs us.”

“She needs
me
,” he corrected. “Her father.”

With that, he left her standing in his bedroom while he returned to Christine’s side.

Amelia felt as if she’d taken a blow to her stomach. Did he honestly believe she’d behaved irresponsibly by sending the doctor away? In the past five years, she’d never known Dr. Fraser to be anything but a miracle worker. But her husband was treating her like a recalcitrant child who thought she knew best. It wasn’t that at all—she’d agreed to let the doctor examine Christine, but the moment he’d begun his “treatments,” she’d stopped him. The last thing her stepdaughter needed was to be weakened by bloodletting or cupping.

For a moment, Amelia leaned against the wall, letting out her heartbreak. No, she wasn’t the girl’s mother. But she wasn’t about to stand around and wring her hands. She needed a trustworthy doctor, not a man who would drain away the remainder of her stepdaughter’s strength.

Hearing David accuse her of negligence was like a knife slicing her courage into shreds. She wept harder, knowing that a good cry would give her the means to be cheerful later. Even though the young girl had been a trial to her, they had grown closer in the past few days. She was beginning to think of Christine as her own daughter, and the thought of watching her die was a nightmare she couldn’t bear to face.

The girl had slowly lost all feeling in her legs and now her hands. Amelia had never seen anything like it, and unless they found a way to reverse it, Christine would undoubtedly die or be left an invalid.

She wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and forced herself to return to the sickroom. But before she could take another step, she heard the voices of her sister and Dr. Fraser downstairs.

Amelia raced down to them and threw herself into Juliette’s arms. Her sister was holding her daughter, Grace, but she hugged her back, even with the child between them. “I suppose you’re glad we’ve come?”

“I pray you can save her.” To Dr. Fraser, she explained what had happened, and once Lord Falsham heard the symptoms, he held up a hand.

“I will do what I can, Lady Castledon. But you must ken that this is no’ something I’ve heard of in my studies. It sounds like a rare illness.”

Mrs. Larson arrived at that moment and embraced them both. “Go on up and see the wee lass, Dr. Fraser. She’ll be needing ye to bide awhile. And Miss Juliette, come inside, and I’ll find some food for ye and yer sweet bairn.” The housekeeper ushered them inside the parlor while Amelia led Dr. Fraser up the stairs.

The doctor fired questions at her, and she answered as quickly as she could. He was muttering to himself beneath his breath in Gaelic, but the moment he entered the sickroom, a change came over his demeanor.

He walked over to the bed and greeted Christine warmly. “I’ll bid you a good morn, lass. I am Dr. Paul Fraser, and I’m also the Viscount of Falsham. Your stepmother asked me to come and look at you.”

Amelia stepped back, but she didn’t miss the wariness in her husband’s eyes. David was staring at the doctor as if he didn’t know what to expect. His eyes seemed to warn her that if Dr. Fraser couldn’t cure Christine, he would do whatever was necessary to find a physician who could.

An ache centered inside Amelia, but she forced back the fear. The Scottish doctor felt the girl’s pulse and examined her. He paid particular attention to Christine’s hands, not only checking her muscles, but also testing her skin with both hot and cold water. “Do you feel that, lass?”

When Christine shook her head, Dr. Fraser looked into her eyes and checked her mouth and throat.

“What do you think this is?” Amelia asked Dr. Fraser when she could bear it no longer.

“I canna say that I’ve seen it before,” he admitted. “But I’ve brought many of my books with me. If there’s a doctor who has written about this illness, I’ll be finding out what he’s learned. And we’ll do what we can to cure it.”

Then he asked Christine, “How long has it been since you’ve moved your legs or hands?”

“About a week,” she admitted.

“It’s no’ good for limbs to remain idle for so long,” Dr. Fraser said. To the earl, he ordered, “She needs to have her legs and arms moved several times a day, so the blood can flow to them. You can do it yourselves or have a servant help her. But if the blood doesna flow where it’s needing to go, she could lose her ability to walk once she’s healed.”

“I’ll help her,” David said. He went to sit at Christine’s side, while Amelia took the opposite end.

“I’ll be seeing about Juliette and Grace for a moment, and then I’ll return with the books,” Dr. Fraser promised. He departed the room, leaving Amelia alone with her husband.

The bleakness in David’s posture bothered her deeply, for she sensed him shutting her out. After he lowered the bedcovers, Amelia took Christine’s left leg, meaning to bend it.

“I’ll do it, Amelia,” he said. “You can go.”

“Both of us can help her,” she said. “I can do this leg while you do the other.”

“No.” There was frost in his voice that bewildered her. “Go and leave us. I will take care of my own daughter.”

The way you didn’t
, she imagined he would say. His words were an invisible blow, and she felt the physical ache of his rejection.

“She can stay, Papa,” Christine offered.

“Not this time,” he insisted. “Amelia has other duties that require her attention. I will take care of you.”

The tightness in her throat held the foreboding of tears, and Amelia stood up. To Christine, she offered, “I’ll bring you a pot of chocolate if you like.”

The girl ventured a smile, but in her eyes, Amelia saw hopelessness. “Perhaps later.”

She squeezed her stepdaughter’s hand and stole another look at David. He was moving Christine’s right leg, gently bending her knee. Amelia waited for him to say something before she left the room.

But he wouldn’t even look at her.