How to Heal the Marquess by Sally Forbes

Chapter Fifteen

 

“Your fever has come down tremendously, your lordship,” Daisy said, keeping her voice cheery but calm, despite her intense pride at having such success with the duke’s temperature. “How are you feeling now?”

The duke gave her a weak smile and opened his mouth to reply. But he began coughing, attempting to lift a clean cloth Daisy had given to him up to his lips as he did so, but failing with his lacking strength. Daisy helped him by gently supporting the hand holding the cloth, keeping it against his mouth until the coughing, which worried Daisy considerably, subsided.

“Much like I sound, I am afraid,” the duke wheezed, glancing up at Daisy. “But I feel a bit more lucid, with the fever gone.”

Daisy smiled gently, dabbing at the duke’s forehead with a cool cloth to wipe away some sweat that had begun to form during his coughing fit.

“Now we have your fever under control; let me see what I can do to help your cough,” she said.

When the duke nodded, Daisy gently placed a hand behind his back, quickly and adeptly repositioning the pillows which lay behind him. When she had finished, she moved in front of the duke, using her arms to support most of his weight as she helped him shift up in the bed ever so slightly.

She completed the task slowly so as not to make Lord Berbrook become winded and succumb to another bout of coughing. At last, he was sitting so that his head and chest were properly elevated off the bed, but not so that a full sitting position restricted his diaphragm.

“How is that, my lord?” Daish asked.

The duke smiled fondly at her.

“That is actually quite nice,” he said. “Thank you, my dear.”

Daisy nodded, beaming at Lord Berbrook once again.

“It is my pleasure,” she said.

Just then, a maid entered the room, carrying a small tray, upon which sat a steaming teapot and a single cup. Daisy hurried over to her, thanking her profusely for taking the time to go to the kitchens and prepare the tea she had instructed her to brew for the duke. She could tell by smell alone that the maid had followed her recipe to the letter. Then, she went back to the duke’s bedside, placing the tray on the table and pouring him a cup, which she promptly handed to him.

“This should help soothe your throat as well as ease your chest,” she said.

The duke nodded, looking at the tea with weak skepticism, which did not bother Daisy. She sat back, watching the duke, waiting to come to his aid should he need it. With his new elevated position, however, he would have no trouble drinking the tea. But she sat ready, should his hands begin to tremble, or should his weakness prevent him from lifting the cup to his lips.

He took a slow but mostly steady sip from the cup. His eyes widened, and he looked up at Daisy with shock.

“This is very good tea, Miss Gibson,” he said. “I am quite surprised at how good it tastes.”

Daisy beamed brightly at the duke’s praise. He knew, of course, that her father was a physician. But he did not know that her uncle was a renowned and highly skilled apothecary.

“My uncle Ambrose has taught me some wonderful tricks,” she said with a wink.

Lord Berbrook stared at the teacup in his hand with wonder. Then, he took another long sip and turned back to his acting nurse.

“You must tell me what the trick is to this,” he said. “Why, I simply cannot get enough of it.”

Daisy giggled and shook her head.

“Oh, dear, your lordship,” she said. “I can hardly go giving away my secrets.”

The duke laughed heartily.

“I suppose you are right,” he said. “A lady should never divulge her secrets. But what on earth inspired you to put such work into making brews taste so good?”

Daisy shrugged, blushing at more of her patient’s praise.

“Most tonics are vile tasting,” she said humbly. “That makes it difficult for patients to take them. So, I got to thinking that, if only there was a way to make them taste even a little better, perhaps, folks would not so dread their treatments.”

Lord Berbrook looked at the teacup again before drinking the rest of the brew in a single gulp. Then, he looked at her, rather curiously, and nodded decisively.

“You are a good woman, Miss Gibson,” he said with a sigh. “It is a true pity that women are not seen as fit to practice as doctors.”

Daisy stared at the duke in surprise.

“Oh?” she asked dumbly, instantly scolding herself for embarrassing herself.

The duke did not seem to notice her fumble, however. He looked down at his empty cup, seemingly lost in thought.

“It is a real pity,” he repeated. “And I know I was guilty of believing that myself. But seeing how attentive and adept you are and the devotion and time you spend of your own volition in things like making delicious brews like this one, it’s made me rethink that viewpoint. In fact, I am sure you would make an excellent doctor.”

Daisy’s mouth fell open, and she was helpless to close it again. She stared at the duke, desperate to express her gratitude for the wonderful compliment. But Lord Berbrook had rendered her wholly speechless, and all she could do was continue to gawk at him in complete shock. She could feel her cheeks reddening, as much from embarrassment at her incompetence at that moment as from the unexpected praise from the duke. After a tremendous effort, Daisy managed to press her lips together, but her voice would not return.

The duke smiled warmly at her, seeming undisturbed by her dumb silence and foolish reaction. He held out the empty teacup to her, patting her hand gently as he did so.

“Speaking of patient care, I was wondering if I might have some more of that delicious tea,” he said. “And would you be so kind as to arrange for me to have a tray of breakfast served?”

Daisy gasped, her earlier speechless stupor quickly evaporating. Now, she was genuinely surprised at the duke’s request. Based on the previous days, Daisy had expected to have to try to coax Lord Berbrook to eat to keep up the marginal strength he had. But that he was asking for food meant his appetite was already beginning to return. And that was an incredibly good sign.

Thrilled, Daisy practically leapt from her seat beside the bed, leaning down to pat the duke gently on the shoulder.

“I shall see to it at once, my lord,” she said, barely able to contain her giddiness. “And I will certainly serve you another cup of the brew with your breakfast, as well.”

The duke beamed up at her, covering her hand with his own, which Daisy was pleased to find was no longer cold and clammy.

“Very good, my dear,” he said.

Daisy curtseyed quickly, then turned to head toward the door. As she reached for the knob, the duke called out to her again.

“Oh, and do not forget to order a plate for yourself, as well,” he said.

Daisy turned back quickly, looking at the duke in amazement. Once more, she was speechless, but as she looked into his kind eyes and saw his weak but cheery smile, she recovered much more quickly than before.

“That is so kind of you, my lord,” she said. “Thank you very much.”

Lord Berbrook looked at her fondly and nodded. Daisy took that as her cue to leave then, and she did so with her heart filled with happiness. The duke was a kind and gracious man, to be sure. But her greatest pleasure that morning came from the fact that he was ready to eat.

She knew she could not get her hopes too far up just yet, as he could suddenly be too unwell to eat by the time she returned. She must pray that would not be the case as she hurried to find the butler and inform him about the duke’s request for his meal.

To Daisy’s relief, the duke was not only still feeling well enough to eat when she returned, but he was also sitting up higher in his bed. She hurried over to him, helping with his pillows once more, so he could sit up at much as he wanted to. And just as she had told the duke breakfast would arrive shortly, there was a knock on the door, and in came one of the maids. She was carrying a long silver tray that looked heavy, on top of which balanced two plates filled with a grand breakfast. She rose to help the maid, but the duke reached out and touched her arm gently.

“Please, my dear,” he said. “You have been working very hard already. Sit and wait to be served, as my guest, for the moment.”

Daisy looked at the maid, who smiled warmly at her. She felt guilt at having a maid serve her, as she was not noble to be waited upon. But she did not wish to anger the duke, so she reclaimed her seat and waited to be served.

The meal was delicious, even better than the chops and eggs she had prepared for her father and herself that morning. While they ate, the duke engaged her in light-hearted conversation about his business trips overseas when he was a young man.

By the time breakfast had ended, Daisy felt almost as though she and the duke were old friends. And she got the impression that the duke felt the same way about her.

The day progressed in much the same way as before until late afternoon. The duke had not wanted lunch, but Daisy was unperturbed. He had, after all, finished almost all of his breakfast, which was remarkable for a man who, only the day before, had been on his death bed. Nevertheless, she stayed with him until he fell into a deep sleep just as the sun was beginning to dip in the sky. Silently, she packed up her medicine bag and headed back home.

When she arrived, she heard her father’s voice coming from the small study. Surprised, Daisy hurried down the hall, anxious to tell her father about the duke’s progress and about how kind and trusting the marquess had been. She stepped in the doorway of her father’s office, upon which he noticed her immediately. He rose quickly from his seat, smiling a bit too tightly at her.

“Hello, Daughter,” he said, hurrying over to her and kissing her on the cheek.

“Hello, Father,” she said, still surprised and more than a little confused about her father’s expression. “I did not expect to see you home so soon.”

The physician stepped back from her, looking strangely nervous. He stepped aside and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. Only then did Daisy see that there was a young man sitting in the room with her father.

“There is someone I would like you to meet,” he said. “Daisy, this is Henry. He will be helping out at the practice from now on. Or, at least, for as long as he wishes.” The doctor paused to chuckle. “Henry, this is my daughter, Daisy, the young woman about whom you have heard so much today.”

Daisy stared in disbelief as the young man rose and bowed to her.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Gibson,” the man she knew only as Henry said. “And I can assure you, your father has said nothing but wonderful things about you.”

Daisy looked at her father with wide, wounded eyes. Had she heard him correctly? Had he said that Henry would be helping out at the practice?

“I am sorry, Mr. . . .”  she trailed off, waiting for the young man to say his last name.

“Benson,” he said quickly. “Henry Benson. But please, just call me Henry.”

“Henry, then,” she said, glancing at her father. “But I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage, as I know absolutely nothing about you.”

The young man laughed pleasantly.

“It is quite all right,” he said. “I look forward to working with your father. And you, of course. He has told me about how accomplished you are with medicine.”

The young man continued speaking, but Daisy hardly heard a word. She could barely hear him over the sound of her screaming thoughts. She knew she had been after her father to take some time off from the practice, but he knew well she had meant he should let her take over.

Why should he go ahead and hire a stranger? And how could he have done so without speaking to her first?