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Chapter 15
“Miss Moore?”
Isabel looked up from the book she had been poring over. Arnaud was in the doorway to the library. She looked exhausted, and Isabel could see the sweat on the woman’s forehead across the room. She sat up.
“Arnaud? Are you all right? Are you starting to feel unwell?”
“No, I’m fine. It’s just very hot in the servants’ quarters right now.” Arnaud wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her dress. “Lady Dunley wanted me to tell you that Viscount Dunley’s secretary has started coming down with the shivers, and she’s had to send him to his room.”
Isabel gulped. That would be the fifth person in the house who had come down with this mysterious fever. It had only been three when they arrived at Clovewood two days ago, including Cook.
Isabel had been shocked to find Cook was still attempting to work, staggering around the kitchen and chasing away the other servants with a knife if they tried to get him to stop. He thought he could work through it, and he had never taken a sick day. Isabel had burst into tears at the sight of a man she was fond of close to delirium.
The sight of her, though, standing in his kitchen, seemed to affect Cook. He dropped the knife, still staring at her, before he staggered to her, falling to his knees and then onto his face unconscious. The other servants had taken advantage of this to pick him up and carry him up to his room. How they did that when the man was huge and pretty much a dead weight, Isabel had no idea, but the sight broke her heart.
She had been to see him as much as she could over the last two days, but he was so delirious that he didn’t seem to realize she was there.
“How ... how bad is it?”
“It’s not good, but not as bad as Cook, Maisie or Viscount Dunley. Charlotte is still coherent, but she’s starting to get hot with all the windows open.” Arnaud shook her head. “Whatever the doctor is giving them, it’s not working.”
“I’m sure we’ll be able to find something in these books.” Isabel gestured at the stacks of books around her. “Something here has to be useful. Maybe we can find our own treatment.”
“Are you really sure about that, Miss Moore?”
“I’m sure, Arnaud. Trust me on this, please?”
Arnaud sighed.
“I think, at this point, we’ll take anything we can. And I know I won’t be able to stop you from looking for something. But can I ask one thing, please, miss?”
“What?”
“Don’t poison anyone.”
Isabel laughed.
“Would you have said that if we weren’t in this current position?”
“Absolutely not. I’m just too tired to remember propriety. And this is making everyone stressed.”
“How’s Mother?”
“Lady Dunley is coping pretty well, considering the circumstances. She’s barely blinked at Viscount Dunley’s bizarre demands.”
“Bizarre?”
“I’m sure she’ll tell you about it when she comes downstairs.” Arnaud turned away. “I’d better get back to it. Lady Dunley wants me to help with the secretary. He’s being more demanding than his master.”
Isabel wasn’t surprised about that. The odious man had been talking down to them since they had arrived, and Isabel had been close to forgetting her manners and slapping him. All she could do was walk away with gritted teeth.
There were moments when she wondered if they should have stayed in London instead of coming here. Because not only did they have to deal with a delirious viscount and a secretary with an overinflated ego, but also the fear of getting ill themselves. So far, she and Lady Dunley were fine, but they were both exhausted. It wouldn’t take long to catch something if they stayed any longer.
They really needed to find a treatment for the fever to get people better and then return to London. Isabel had sent a letter to Galliston explaining the situation, and she hoped it reached him in time. She had sent a quick message as they left two days ago, but it felt like she was running away. They were coming back, but Isabel felt like she was running.
It was as if someone was watching over her and realized that she needed some time away from London to gather her thoughts. Even if it meant she was poring over her science books looking for a potential treatment that would be more effective than what the doctor was giving his patients. It didn’t appear to be having any effect at all, and Isabel really needed something to distract her from the fact people she cared about were really sick.
Not her cousin, of course. She didn’t care about him. But it wouldn’t be fair to his son if Daniel died when he was so young. Isabel wasn’t that cruel.
