“Thank you,” he said shortly and set off, stroking strongly to the bank with one arm, his son in the other. She followed,emerging a few moments behind him, panting and spent, water pouring off her gown, which was filthy, streaked with green slime and weeds.
“Ewen?” The viscount was working over his son. The little boy suddenly coughed up a quantity of foul water and began to cry. “Ewen!” The viscount’s voice cracked with relief as he held his son on his side while the paroxysm passed.
Sarah had rushed to wrap a blanket around Annis, and before she could say anything, the duke swept her up in his arms and set off after the viscount who was headed for the house with his tiny burden. Sarah and Ava began rounding up the children and reassuring them that Ewen was perfectly safe.
Annis, who was shivering with reaction more than any chill left over from the water, murmured, “I can walk, Your Grace.”
“Nonsense,” snapped the duke, striding purposefully toward the house. “You are a heroine, Miss Pringle. You just saved that boy’s life!”
In short order she was deposited in her room to recover. After changing out of her wet clothes, Annis ventured to the children’s rooms to find out how Ewen was. She found the little boy tucked up in bed with his father in attendance.
The viscount, seeing her, left Ewen and came toward the door. They stepped out into the anteroom off which the children’s rooms all ran, and he said quietly, “He is sleeping for the moment. The doctor has been sent for. Are you well, Miss Pringle?”
“Yes, perfectly,” she said.
“I cannot thank you enough for your quick action,” he said, clasping her hands tightly. “If you hadn’t—” He stopped, visibly overcome. “I blame myself for taking my eye off him. He should never have wandered off like that.”
“We were all remiss!” she said quickly. “He must have climbed that tree and fallen in the water from there.”
“Yes, I assumed as much.” He swallowed hard and wiped his eyes. “Forgive my excessive emotion, Miss Pringle, but if I had lost him—”
“Please, do not apologize, my lord. Your emotions do you credit,” she said swiftly. “Indeed, I am so glad I reached him in time. I feel equally responsible, if not more so. Today’s venture was my idea. If I had thought there was any danger to any of the children—”
“The responsibility is mine and mine alone, Miss Pringle. He is my son!” He spoke vehemently. “The truth is I have not been myself lately. Not paying sufficient attention—to anything. So damned self-absorbed I—” He stopped, closing his lips as if biting off whatever else he would have said. “They have lost their mother; they must not lose me as well.”
“They have not lost you,” she protested.
He grimaced. “I’ve been here in body, but my spirit has been somewhat absent.”
“Papa?” A plaintive cry from the bedroom sent him back into the room, and she left.
Annis took supper in her room that night and retired to bed early.
*
Lizzie and Charliecame to say good night, and Emrys had to reassure them that Ewen would be well soon. They each gave him a kiss on his hot forehead and let Emrys take them to their beds and tuck them in. It was a reminder to him that they needed him, too.
Emrys had a truckle bed set up in his son’s room, preparing to spend the night with him and was alarmed when it became clear at around nine o’clock that the little fellow was running a temperature. The doctor had warned him this might happen.The poor lad had been sick a couple of times from the foul water and the doctor had said he might have contracted something nasty from it. He had left a paregoric draught to administer in the event of fever and Emrys gave it to him, but it came up again almost immediately.
After that, Emrys spent his time sponging the hot little body down and feeding him small sips of water, trying to keep the covers on his shivering form and holding his hand when Ewen bleated “Papa?”
“I’m here, Ewen, and I will not leave you,” he said steadily, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. “You will be better directly. The fever will pass.” He hoped and prayed it would. He couldn’t lose his son like this. It would, he thought, overset his reason.
It was after midnight when he heard a noise at the door of Ewen’s room and turned to see a robed figure standing there. He blinked at this vision of a woman. Her hair was confined to a thick plait over her shoulder and her robe was tied about her waist, a plain white nightgown visible beneath. For a moment, past and present merged as he recalled another long, dark night, when Lizzie was sick of a terrible fever, and he and Caro had stood vigil by her side in the darkest hours before dawn.
But of course, this wasn’t Caro, because she was gone, and in any case this figure was taller and more solid than Caro. It was Miss Pringle. She trod softly into the room and stood beside him, gazing down at the little boy, who tossed and turned and whimpered.
“Do you need to be relieved for a little?” she said. “I can sit with him.”
“This is not your responsibility—” he began.
“By my calculation you have been with him for over eight hours straight,” she interrupted. “I am accustomed to nursing children through illness. I grew up in a school for young ladies, Ithink I told you. I sat with many girls through fevers and tummy upsets in my years at the seminary. I assure you I can be trusted with him.” She smiled sympathetically.
He swallowed and nodded. “Very well, thank you. I—I won’t be long.”
He took a few minutes to relieve himself and wash his face and hands, change his shirt, which had become drenched with sweat from his worry and the heat, and drink a long draught of water, suddenly realizing how thirsty he was.
He returned to the room and found her sitting on the narrow bed, holding Ewen’s hand and singing to him softly. Her voice was sweet and the song soothing. It certainly seemed to be soothing Ewen, who lay still and quiet, no longer tossing and whimpering.
