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Chapter 2
Rebecca couldn’t hold back thetears once Mr. Fort-something had left. Her ankle throbbed, and her backside was sore, but her heart was the sorest of all.
Mama asked Mrs. Pugh to have tea sent in and also to fetch the laudanum.
“Here, my dear,” Mama said once the laudanum and a pitcher of cool water arrived. She poured the water into a glass and added a tiny amount of laudanum. “This will help you feel better.”
Rebecca obediently drank everything in the glass. It would help her ankle stop aching, but it surely was not going to help her feel better. She dreaded hearing the actual words from the doctor, but she knew what his diagnosis was going to be and what it would mean. She felt it all the way to the center of her being.
She wouldn’t be having her Season in London after all.
“There now,” Mama crooned. “Oh, look, here is Annie with the tea service. Would you care for a biscuit and some tea?”
“No, Mama.” Putting anything more in her stomach than the laudanum and water would be tempting fate. Her nausea hadn’t completely left. “But thank you, Annie.”
“Is there anything I can do for you, miss?” Annie asked.
“Perhaps a light blanket would be nice,” Mama said, which was just as well because Rebecca could already feel the laudanum beginning to work. Her eyes felt heavy . . .
She startled awake and looked about, blinking. At some point, Mama had moved from sitting beside her on the chaise longue to a chair that had been placed next to it. Susan was still here too, pacing by the window. Mr. Moody, the local surgeon, stood next to Rebecca’s feet, watching her, a black medical bag in his hand.
“Mr. Moody is here to see to your ankle now, dear,” Mama said. She must have nudged Rebecca awake. “We’re going to remove the blanket from your feet. Are you ready?”
Rebecca glanced down at herself. She’d dozed longer than she’d thought, for a crocheted blanket was tucked all about her body. She nodded at Mama, who then nodded at Mr. Moody.
He gently folded back the blanket from Rebecca’s lower legs. “Well, what have we here?” he said. He tipped his head one way and then another, inspecting her ankle. “Someone had the foresight to put a splint on.”
“Yes, I understand that the young gentleman who carried her home splinted her ankle before moving her,” Mama said.
“You can be grateful that he did, Miss Rebecca,” Mr. Moody said, glancing up over his glasses at her and addressing her rather than Mama. “For had he not stabilized the break in such a manner before bringing you home, your ankle fracture could have ended up being much worse.” He examined the splint more closely. “The fellow did a rather decent job of it. That means you’ll be up and about in six weeks, possibly eight, and as good as new.” He gently probed at her ankle. Despite the laudanum, she sucked in her breath at the pain the pressure of his fingers caused. “Yes, there it is,” he said. “I’ll need to do a bit of repositioning of that fibula of yours but not too much. And then we’ll splint it again and let nature take its course. You should mend with no lingering problems at all. No harm done.”
Rebecca sniffed and bit the inside of her lip. Better for poor Mr. Moody to think she was fighting through the pain in her ankle than her disappointment at hearing his words confirm her fears.
She felt the strips of fabric loosen and the sticks being eased away from her leg. Then she watched as he removed her slipper and used scissors to cut away her stocking. He inspected her ankle again, then nodded and carefully placed one hand on her ankle and one on the heel of her foot. “Are you ready, Miss Rebecca? This will only take a moment, and then you will feel much better. On the count of three, now: one, two”—his hands gave a firm twist, and Rebecca cried out—“three,” he said. “Well done, my dear. We only need to redo the splint now, and then the healing can begin.”
There was no use arguing thattwowasn’t what she’d expected from a count of three, especially since stars were once again whirling about her eyes. She allowed herself to drift off to sleep as he went about splinting her broken ankle. Sleep would keep her from thinking about her broken dreams.
She awoke once again to find Susan sitting by her side, holding her hand, and Mama mixing another dose of laudanum.
“Here, my darling,” Mama said, handing her the glass. “Oh dear, this pitcher is almost empty. I should have had Annie bring in a fresh pitcher of water. I’ll go get some myself.” She picked up the tray and left the room.
Rebecca realized the light in the room was different. It was afternoon now, and as the fog of sleep began to clear, the memories of the morning rushed back to her. Her sobs began anew. “It is so unfair,” she cried, repeatedly wiping away tears and dabbing at her nose with her handkerchief. “I’ve climbed that silly fence stiledozensof times!Whymust I fallthistime, and not only that butbreak my anklewhen we are to leave for London inonly two days!”
“Never mind that,” Susan said, patting her hand. “We are only grateful that someone discovered you lying there and brought you safely home. Otherwise, who knows how long you would have been there. You shouldn’t have been attempting to cross a stranger’s property anyway.”
“Mr. Arnold always let me,” Rebecca said, feeling guilty and a bit defensive. She sniffed and dabbed at her nose again.
“The new owner is not Mr. Arnold, though, is he?” Susan said in a gently chiding voice.
“But it savesso much timewhen walking to the village,” Rebecca said. She sighed. “I know, I know. It was wrong of me. And now I’m being divinely punished for my trespass, and Icannot imaginea worse punishment when all the news says the French are nearly defeated and the war may end at last. Can you imagine? The excitement of being in London at such a time if it all comes to pass! The colors and the spectacle of it all! The grand ladies and gentlemen! It was to be rollicking good fun, and now I cannot go with you!” Her tears began all over again, even as she could feel the laudanum making her sleepy once more.
Susan was quiet for a long moment. “I cannot abandon you after this,” she said at last. “I shall write to Lady Walmsley and inform her of your accident, and I shall stay with you and keep you company and help nurse you back to health.” She patted her sister’s hand again. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you.”
“But you must!” Rebecca cried, trying desperately to shake off her drowsiness. “You cannot abandon your own plans for the Season simply because I broke my ankle. Besides, how else am I going to hear about anything that happens? You must go and write to me every day! You must attend the parades and the balls and, oh, everything! One of us should be allowed to benefit from Lady Walmsley’s generosity, and honestly, you deserve to be there during this historic time. You’ve got more of an appreciation of history than any of us. Oh,whydid this have to happen?” Rebecca glanced down at the wet linen in her hand. “My handkerchief is worthless; it’s just a sopping rag now.”
She watched Susan feel in her pocket for her own handkerchief, but she didn’t have one, which was typical of Susan, who rarely thought about things like handkerchiefs. “Here now, it’s time you rested,” Susan said. “I won’t have you making yourself ill over this.”
“Nor will I,” Mama said as she entered the room again, holding a tray with a pitcher of fresh water. She set the tray down and poured a small amount of water into a clean cup. “Take a sip of water, dearest, and then sleep. Resting will help your ankle heal faster.”
