He took an unsteady breath. “I’ll go.”
“You can’t be alone.”
The shivering started again. “Staying here will cause a scandal.”
“The others won’t tell anyone.”
“They mightn’t.” Strain plastered his skin to the bones of his face. “But there’s a household full of servants who won’t keep the news to themselves. With the wedding, they’ll have plenty of visitors to tell.”
“I don’t care. Anyway, if the housemaids have eyes, they must know I haven’t slept alone the last two nights.” To think she’d once fretted about gossip. All that mattered now was West’s health. “What can I do?”
“Help me back to my room. You don’t have to nurse me.”
She frowned. However brave his offer, it wasn’t practical. He wasn’t fit to stand, let alone wander the hallways. And her soul screamed denial at the idea of consigning him to another’s care. “Maybe later,” she said to head off an argument.
She might as well have saved her breath. His eyes turned opaque, and his teeth chattered. He obviously couldn’t hear her.
How could he survive this? And he’d suffered these bouts for months. Helpless pity crushed her heart.
She fetched a glass of water and held him against her bosom while he tried to drink. Most of the water went over him, rather than down his throat. He was a big man, and even a strong woman like her struggled to support his weight.
“Cold, cold,” he said over and over, while he fought to throw off the covers.
Increasingly worried, Helena sponged him down, speaking soothing nonsense. Her voice seemed to calm him, as she ran a damp cloth over his naked body, noting again how thin he was.
He raised a shaking hand. She set the bowl aside and took it.
“Helena.” The sound was a whisper, although his grip was firm.
“I’m here, darling,” she murmured.
“Help me back to my room.”
&n
bsp; “We won’t make it.” She cupped the side of his face, distraught that despite her efforts, his fever worsened.
“Let’s try.” He was becoming agitated.
“Very well.”
Helena took both his hands and helped him to sit, trembling and sick, on the edge of the bed. She slid her shoulder under his arm. “Hold on to me.”
Staggering, she got him up, but on the first step, he reeled.
“This is hopeless, West,” she said, stumbling to keep him upright. “I’ll get Silas.”
And she’d send for a doctor, scandal be damned. Since she’d woken, she’d been afraid, but seeing strong, self-confident Vernon Grange unable to stand had her stomach twisting with terror.
She’d known he was ill. She’d seen for herself how the fever came upon him out of nowhere. But only now, when she battled alone against this enemy, did she understand that she might lose him.
Suddenly that seemed the worst blow fate could deal her. Crueler by far than an unhappy marriage.
How precious he was. How precious he’d always been.
If West lived, she didn’t care if the whole county shunned her as a brazen trollop.
“No…Silas,” he said, before retreating into the occasional grunt as she struggled to get him back into bed.