Not as long as Crispin—or Christopher or Francis—weren’t involved.
She nodded. “For your information, this happens at any time of the day. It’s usually worse when I get up from lying down, but sometimes it comes on for no reason, as well. I had a cup of peppermint tea earlier, but it didn’t seem to help.”
Clearly not. “Do you feel well enough for me to help you back to your room? Or is it likely to happen again so you want to stay here?”
She wasn’t actively vomiting anymore, and a touch of color was coming back into her cheeks.
“I think I’m done for now.” She gave the toilet bowl a scowl. “I’m not sure there’s anything left to throw up. Not that that always means I won’t.”
“Why don’t we see if you can stand?” I suggested, and held out a hand. Hers was ice cold and limp as a dead fish. Ibraced myself and hauled her to her feet. “I’ll find some sort of container for you, and that way, if it happens again, you’ll have something beside your bed.”
She staggered as she gained her feet, and I reached out automatically to support her. I ended up half dragging, half carrying her into the hallway, with one arm around her waist. “Would you like for me to knock up Rivers or the Honorable Reggie,” I asked, breathlessly, “so you don’t have to suffer the indignity of me trying to drag you into your bedchamber? One of them would be able to carry you, no doubt.”
She shuddered. “No, thank you. It’s very kind of you to help.”
Very well, then. If she wanted to be manhandled by me, I would simply carry on with the handling. We staggered across the landing and towards the door to her room. It was standing halfway open, but the room inside was dark. She must have been in bed and been woken up, or perhaps hadn’t fallen asleep yet, but her eyes had been accustomed enough to the dark that she hadn’t needed to turn on a lamp as she ran for the lavatory.
I staggered to a stop a few steps in, so as not to run into any of the furniture. Cecily, perforce, stopped too.
“The bed is this way.” Her voice sounded strained, as if she were in pain, so when she moved to the left, I followed. A few seconds later, she reached the bed and collapsed down on the edge of it with a sound halfway between a groan and a grunt.
I tucked my hands behind my back, feeling awkward. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“You can keep this to yourself,” Cecily said, and I could hear the rustling as she swung her legs up onto the mattress and pulled the covers over herself.
“Of course. It’s not as if a pregnant woman puking is anything newsworthy.” Nor was it as if Cecily’s getting in the family way was anything I should be gossiping about. Unless— “St George did tell me the truth, didn’t he? It’s not his problem?”
“I haven’t had anything to do with Crispin since last winter,” Cecily confirmed. After a second’s pause, she added, tiredly, “If you feel that way about him, why is he marrying Laetitia and not you?”
“I don’t feel that way about him. He’s family, that’s all. The cousin of my cousin is my cousin, and all that. And he’s marrying Laetitia because that’s what he chose to do.”
Aside from which, Uncle Harold would never approve of him marrying me. Nor would I ever, unlike Laetitia, agree to marry a man whom I knew was in love with someone else. Laetitia was welcome to him, or would have been, had I not actually cared about the fact that she was a horrible cow who would make him unhappy and he should have known better than to propose.
But it was neither here nor there. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”
I glanced around, my eyes a bit more used to the dim light now, and spotted a chamber pot and matching slop jar tucked away in a corner. “Would you like me to…?”
“No,” Cecily said with a shudder, “thank you. I think that would only make the experience worse. I’d rather run across to the loo again.”
“Would you like me to stay with you? In case you need help?”
She shook her head. “That’s not necessary. But thank you for offering.”
Very well, then. “I’m across the hall and to the right of the lavatory if you need help. Feel free to knock on my door. And if you can’t make it, yell loudly and I’m sure I’ll hear you. I’m not a particularly heavy sleeper.”
“Thank you, Miss Darling. You’ve been more than kind.”
“Call me Pippa,” I said. “And it seems the least I can do. I hope you get to sleep. I’ll put this—” I lifted the teacup and saucer from the side table, “—outside the door. That way,perhaps the maids will leave you alone tomorrow morning and you can stay in bed a bit.”
She nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Pippa.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, “Cecily.”
With nothing more said, I took myself and the empty teacup out the door, which I closed carefully behind me. There was still an inch or so of brown liquid at the bottom of the cup, smelling strongly of mint, although to me, it was more spearmint than the peppermint Cecily had mentioned.
I took it across the hallway to the bathroom, where I poured the dregs of the tea down the drain. No sense in leaving a half-full cup of tea on the floor for someone to kick, after all. That done, I gathered up my flannel and my toiletries bag, before finally heading back to my own room for some peace and quiet.
CHAPTER SEVEN
