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“I will ask cook to see if she can make a draught,” said Henry rising swiftly. He looked at the raging fire and pulled a face. “I hope you are right, Ned.” He picked up a pitcher of water and put out the fire.
As the night continued, the temperature in the room dropped considerably. Edmund found a blanket and wrapped it around Alice, but told his wife to leave her mother uncovered. He noted Jane didn’t appear quite as restless.
In the early hours, Henry arrived with the brewed draught. He pressed it to his wife’s lips and with words of encouragement, she began to sip on the liquid, pulling a face at its bitter taste.
“There, there, my sweet,” he said settling her back on the bed.
Edmund, having never had the company of his parents for very long, could only watch as father and daughter rallied and gave each other words of comfort. In the candlelight, with the embers of the fire smouldering, Edmund sat in the corner of the room and played whatever role he could to help.
His wife’s devotion to her mother touched him deeply. That night he was overcome with a profound sense of love towards Alice and a deep regret that he hadn’t expressed it enough to her. He had used his body to give her carnal pleasure, moderated her unacceptable behaviours, but failed to simply declare his love. She had been patient towards him and she deserved a tangible declaration in words that were sweet to her ears.
He prayed, as the dawn birds began to sing, that all wasn’t lost for his mother-in-law. However, he could no longer keep his eyes open and the lids drooped as he drifted into sleep.
* * *
Edmund started in his chair. The morning light filled the room through the drapes. Pushing then to one side, he could see sunshine and patches of blue sky. The storm had passed away completely.
Daring to look about the room, he saw his wife, her arms and head resting on the foot of the bed, bent over and she appeared to be asleep. Henry, his legs stretched out before him, slept in the chair by the window.
Edmund rose and approached Jane. She lay still propped up on pillows, her face pale and eyes shut. However, he could see she was breathing steadily and slower than previously. Touching her wrist gently, her skin felt cool to touch. Reaching down, he stroked Alice’s hair until she stirred.
“Alice, dearest, wake up.”
Alice’s eyes blinked in the light. “Mama?”
“The fever has broken,” said Edmund quietly. “I believe the worst is over.”
Alice let out a tiny sob, muting it with her hand. “Oh, thank God.”
Henry woke a little time later and seeing his wife sleeping peacefully, told Alice she needed to rest herself.
“I will stay until she wakes,” said Alice bleary eyed.
“No, Alice,” said Edmund firmly. “Henry is quite right, you must rest yourself.”
Unable to protest at two men, she nodded in agreement.
Edmund had the pleasure of taking care of Alice. He led her to the guest room, ordered a bathtub and jugs of hot water. Once filled, he gently stripped Alice of her dirty clothes and lifted her into the hot water, pouring rosewater into to it as she lay reclining.
Stripping off himself, he washed and then put on a clean shirt provided by Henry. The housemaid had found some of Alice’s cast off clothes and brought them to the room. Having finally devoured food in a greedy fashion, Edmund should have been content to lounge beneath the warm bedcovers with his wife, intending to catch up on sleep and rest his aching limbs.
The intention didn’t transpire. He ran his palm down Alice’s smooth belly, feeling the rising and fall of her breathing. He halted short of her navel and removed his hand. She turned her twinkling eyes to look at him—her gaze direct and filled with expectations.
Edmund cleared his throat with a small cough. “I have something important to tell you.”
* * *
With her mother no longer in danger, Alice relaxed in bed. The bath had helped with some of the aches and soreness of the saddle; the food had filled her empty belly, now she longed for other pleasures. Her husband’s announcement snatched her attention away from pleasant thoughts.
His face looked tired and strangely pensive. She missed the weight of his hand on her belly. Alice recollected the previous day, how she had been strident in her determination to reach her mother quickly and how Edmund, far from preventing her, had done his utmost to assist her.
She shifted onto an elbow, giving her a height advantage. “Before you speak. I would like to thank you. I may have been a little impetuous with my plans yesterday, but you intervened and showed me your wisdom and sense. You did so without anger or impatience. I am grateful for all you have done for me and would—”
His finger pressed to her lips. “No, Alice, it is I who wish to give you my gratitude. I have spent much of our marriage expecting great things from you and I have been remiss in my own attitude. I am a man of action, of practicalities and not of words. I can command a regiment with few orders and they require nothing else from me but my skills in warfare and leadership. Being with you, and your parents, last night, seeing you together… I want to tell you how much I love you, Alice.”
She blushed with surprise. “I do understand, Edmund. Maybe not at first. Before we married, I had these ideals of what a uniform represents and now I have peeled the façade away, I know that men show their love not with poetic nonsense but with both flair and pragmatism. Last night you proved how special I am to you.”
“You have grown up so quickly, dearest. Your parents will be proud of you at the ball.” Edmund collected her hand in his and kissed her palm.
