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I wanted to slap myself for my own silliness. Of course, she had never been ill before! She’d had me. Lately, I had been busy with social engagements and the tenants. I could not say for certain when I had even seen her last. Probably at the last family dinner I had attended, which was more than a fortnight ago.
“I am so sorry, Nanny. You will feel better soon.”
I sat in the chair beside her bed and took her hand in mine.
“Be careful, Little Lizzy. I don’t want you to become ill.”
“I will be well.” I chafed her hand between mine and said a prayer. “Shall I sing to you?”
She smiled wanly. “Please dear. You always had such a sweet voice, even when you were only a little thing.”
I smiled, blinking back the tears in my eyes, and began singing a tune she had taught me when I was seven years old.
Soon, she drifted into a restful sleep. Her fever had lowered considerably and her skin no longer had a sickly sheen to it. I pushed power into her with all my strength, watching her cheeks pink up before my eyes, and her grip in my hand strengthen.
“Elizabeth.”
I looked over my shoulder to see my mother standing in the doorway.
“I just heard. How is she?”
“She was quite bad, but she is better now. You know Hill’s tonic works wonders.” I gave her a watery smile, and tears leaked out and ran down my cheeks, though I tried to hold them in.
My mother rushed to me. “Oh, my sweet girl. You are exhausted. Nanny is looking better now. Let’s go to your room. You may come and see her again in a few hours, after you’ve had a rest and some food.”
I did not argue and let her lead me to my room, only realizing as I climbed into my bed that I was still wearing a wrapper and nightshift.
“Sleep now, my dear. I will wake you in a few hours and help you dress. She pressed a cup of tea in my hand as I leaned against the headboard. “There is toast here if you think you can stomach it.”
I nodded and drank the tea, ate half a piece of toast, and then was asleep before I could set the bread back on the plate.
Something was tickling my nose. I moved my head, but the tickle came again. I brushed my face, moving hair out of my eyes, and tried to go back to sleep. There was another tickle, and this one was followed by a giggle. Ah.
I waited for the tickle to come again, and this time, I reached out and grabbed the little hand that was tormenting me with the ends of my braid.
“Got you!” I cried.
“Aaaaahh!”
I had to open my eyes to see if it was Henry or Robin, but I could tell by the size of the hand it was one of the twins.
“Henry, what are you doing?”
“Mama said I should wake you. She said to tell you that Nanny is nearly mended and that there is a meal for you in the kitchen.”
“Thank you, brother.” I extended my hand. “Help me up?”
He pulled me out of the bed with too much force and I nearly toppled over, but he was terribly pleased with himself regardless. I rumpled his hair and opened the door to my closet.
“What shall I wear today? The blue or the yellow?”
“I like the green one with the flowers.”
I had a simple green walking dress made of good-quality fabric. Lydia had been appalled at its lack of embellishments and unimpressed with the quality of the workmanship and insisted she brighten it up. It now had tiny flowers embroidered along the neck, sleeves, and hem. She had been right, of course. The hint of blue and white the flowers brought did liven up the gown, and it made me smile to see my sister had done something so thoughtful for me, even if she had mostly done it for the right to boast of her superior taste and needlework.
“You are right, Henry. This is the perfect choice.” I laid the gown on the bed and turned to face my little brother. “Do you want to help me with my hair?”
He made a face. When he was small, he had liked brushing hair. He had always been a tactile child and I think he liked running his hands through the strands more than anything. But as he has gotten older, he has not done so as often.
