How to Heal the Marquess by Sally Forbes
Chapter Twenty-one
Daisy sat sipping the last portion of her fruit ice. Until she had begun looking after the duke of Berbrook, she had only ever had one in her life, and that was when she was a child. Her father had never been one for buying many treats when she was growing up, even though they could afford it, and she really hadn’t minded. Still, as she finished up the one the marquess bought her, she could not help thinking about how delicious they really were.
Neither could she help thinking about how thoughtful Lord Penwell was to have brought her another one. It had been a pleasant enough surprise when the duke had first done so a few days prior.
She certainly had not expected such kindness to be repeated since she was really just an employee of the duke. So, when Lord Penwell had given her another, she had been stunned, speechless. But the shock had quickly given way to intense thrills as their hands had touched. Just the memories set butterflies aflutter in Daisy’s stomach, and she had to stop to catch her breath.
She knew it would never amount to anything other than what her imagination could make of it. She knew she, as an employee, was supposed to be focused solely on her job at Berbrook Manor, especially since her job involved the very life of a man.
But while she was exiled to the hallway again, so the men of the manor could speak privately, she could not help letting her mind wander to visions of what it would be like to walk hand in hand with the marquess, of how soft his lips would feel if she were to kiss them, and how her heart would soar if his intense gaze turned to one of affection and love when he looked at her.
The yanking of the bedchamber door beside her pulled her back to herself with such a start, she almost fell out of her chair. She rose to collect herself just in time to turn and bump straight into a very flustered Lord Penwell.
“Oh, dear,” she gasped, struggling to shake off her previous daydreams as she stared into his wide eyes.
But before she could say anything further, the sound of the duke’s coughing pierced through her thoughts and through the silence between her and the marquess. Her eyes widened, too, and for a moment, she was frozen where she stood, her pulse racing wildly.
The duke had been on the mend for long enough that it took her a moment to understand what to do. Then, the marquess stepped aside, gently taking her arm just above her hand and tugging her lightly.
“Come,” he said, breathless. “Please.”
Daisy nodded, still stunned but with her body now in motion. She hurried into the room behind the marquess, rushing over to the duke’s bedside immediately. Once her eyes fell upon the duke, she instantly began functioning on instinct, her mind reacting to the predicament before her. The duke’s coughing was worsening with each breath he took, and his face was flushed and coated in sweat.
Stunned to see such a sudden, terrible turn in his condition, Daisy gently placed her hand on his forehead. She barely managed to suppress a horrified gasp as she realized he was running an extremely high fever in conjunction with the return of his terrible cough. She almost panicked as she realized she might need to call for her father. But first, she knew she must do something to improve the duke’s condition at once, or he could very well die right then.
Now fully focused, Daisy took the cup containing some of the tonic she had been giving Lord Berbrook off the bedside table. She held it with one hand while she gently massaged his chest with the other, praying the pressure she was applying would slow his coughing. To her relief, it eventually did, and the duke was able to breathe, with difficulty, to be sure, but without succumbing to the cough again. As soon as she was satisfied he was able to drink, she handed him the cup containing the tonic, moving the hand, massaging his chest up behind his head, and lifting it gently.
“Here,” she said, using her other hand to guide him to take the cup. “Drink this. Take slow sips so that you don’t choke. Take as much time as you need to get it down.”
Lord Berbrook nodded weakly, taking the cup and doing as she instructed. Then, when she was confident he could manage the task on his own, she turned to face the marquess. His face was pale, his eyes were wide, and her heart squeezed for him. He looked much like a frightened child, and she wished, just briefly, she could comfort him. But now, she needed his assistance. Even if she did need to summon her father, she must stabilize the duke’s condition first, and she could not do that alone.
“Lord Penwell,” she said, gently but firmly to ensure she got his attention.
Despite his apparent panic, the marquess focused on her immediately.
“Yes?” he asked, his voice hoarse with fear. “What is it?”
With another glance at the duke, Daisy walked over to the marquess. She touched his arm gently and gave him her best reassuring smile.
“I believe your grandfather will be all right for the time being,” she said. “However, he has a very high fever. I must prepare a herbal infusion to help bring down his temperature. I need you to do something for me while I am doing that, though.”
The marquess nodded eagerly, swallowing hard.
“Yes, of course,” he said. “I will do anything to help you.”
Daisy felt her cheeks flush, but she forced the feeling away.
“Good,” she said. “I need you to watch over your grandfather while I am gone. I will not be very long at all, I assure you, and I will just be in the kitchen. You must take a cool, wet cloth and wipe the duke’s face and neck with it.
“Pull up his blankets first so that his chest is not exposed to any water, as that will surely make him worse. Then, drape the cloth over his forehead once his skin is all damp. Make sure his head stays elevated but that he is comfortable and breathing as easily as possible, despite the coughing. And do not let him choke, especially while he finishes drinking the tonic.
“That should help with his coughing, but you must watch him carefully, nonetheless. If he sounds as though he is choking, sit him up further and readjust his pillows as needed. I shall return shortly, I promise.”
The longer she talked, the more the marquess seemed to calm down. He was clearly still frightened about his grandfather’s health, but the color returned to his face, and his eyes looked less panicked and more focused.
It seemed that having something to do to help the duke was doing him some good, and Daisy was relieved. She did not know what she would have done if the marquess had become inconsolable or nonresponsive in his hysteria, on top of the duke being so suddenly taken ill again.
When she was sure Lord Penwell was going to do as she asked, she hurried from the room, grabbing her medical bag and hurrying to the kitchens. To her relief, there was a maid there who was happy to help. She quickly prepared the infusion, listening keenly for any indication that the situation had worsened. She prayed it would not, as she did not wish to summon her father. However, even though she desperately wished to prove herself, she would send for him if it became necessary.
Luckily, no such indication came. By the time she returned to the duke’s bedchambers, his cough had lessened, and his face, though tired and sickly, did not show such dire distress as before. She swallowed tears of both fear and relief, gently moving the marquess to the side so she could tend to the duke with the infusion.
“Thank you, Lord Penwell,” she said, giving him a weak smile. “You have done very well. I shall take care of him from now on.”
The marquess nodded slowly, his earlier fear returning.
“Is he going to die?” he whispered.
Daisy bit her lip. Despite his earlier improvement, she knew it was a very real possibility. Still, she saw no reason to upset the marquess any further.
“Not if I can help it, my lord,” she said. “Why don’t you go downstairs and have a drink? I promise to call for you if anything changes, and if it is for the worse, I will send for my father. I believe I have things under control now, and you did very well in helping him.”
The marquess looked at his grandfather, clearly not fully willing to leave his side. But after a moment, he nodded, looking back at Daisy with tears in his eyes.
“Very well,” he said, his voice cracking. “Call me the instant there is any change for the worse.”
Daisy nodded, patting him gently on the arm.
“I give you my word, Lord Penwell,” she said.
***
A few hours, and many of her own silent tears, later, the duke’s fever finally went down. He had stopped coughing almost as soon as she had returned with the infusion, but his fever had been a stubborn one, spiking even higher than before, until it at last responded to the treatment she administered.
When he was finally able to sleep, he did so deeply, and Daisy took a moment to stand by the window, wiping her tear-streaked cheeks and saying a silent prayer of thanks.
She had been so hopeful only that morning that the duke was, at last, getting well. She did not understand the sudden bad turn in his condition, and she knew she must report it to her father. But as she had hoped, she had been able to regain control of his condition on her own, if barely, and with more than a few terrible frights of her own. Quietly, so as to not disturb the duke’s rest, she walked over to his vanity and splashed her own face with some cool water.
She sat and watched over him for another hour before she began packing away her supplies. It was close to dinnertime, and there was little more she could do for the duke just then. She left the remainder of the infusion on the bedside table, lest his fever should spike again suddenly while she was gone, and someone else might administer it until she or her father arrived.
She also left more of the tonic for the cough behind in case the coughing should return and leave him unable to rest. She checked him for fever and listened to his chest one more time, then, satisfied, quietly exited the room.
Just as she was closing the door to the duke’s bedchamber door, the marquess approached her quickly in the hall. She turned to him, grateful she had washed away her tears, as she knew how unprofessional she would look if he saw she had been crying.
“Hello, your lordship,” she said. “Your grandfather is resting now. His fever is gone, as is his cough, though I have left the medicines needed to help him on the nightstand, should the coughing or the fever return before I can get here to tend to him again tonight.”
The marquess nodded, relief instantly filling his features.
“I am so glad,” he said, glancing down at her medical bag. “I know you must be ready to get home, but could I have a word with you before you leave?”
Daisy swallowed, fearing the worst. The duke had, after all, had a terrible relapse after she had allowed him to get out of bed. Did the marquess blame her? She would not be surprised; she had done a fair bit of blaming herself, as well. Bracing herself, she nodded, seating herself on the chair outside the duke’s room.
“Of course, my lord,” she said, embarrassed by how frightened she sounded as she spoke.
The marquess must have also noticed. He gave her a small but warm smile.
“I wanted to thank you for everything you have done for my grandfather so far,” he said. “Only a few days ago, I was certain we were going to lose him. But after seeing him today, before that horrid cough returned, I believe he has a good chance of beating this illness.”
Daisy’s heart squeezed because she had seen many cases like the duke’s before. She hoped with her whole heart he would recover, but she knew it was still quite possible he would not. If his fever spiked again so soon after the last time, he could even pass that very night. Still, she could not bring herself to say those things, and so she merely smiled reassuringly.
“It is my job, my lord,” she said. “And with a little luck and divine intervention, he will indeed recover.”
The marquess shook his head.
“I understand he is still a very sick man,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “Especially after what happened to him today. But you have been an angel to him. You have even done that which I did not believe possible; bring him back from the terrible symptoms which almost claimed him again his morning. To me, that is a miracle all on its own, no matter what happens.”
Daisy blushed, unable to take much joy in his praise.
“I am simply doing my best to help him,” she said. “And I am happy to help in any way possible by putting all my skills and knowledge at his disposal.”
The marquess nodded, staring at her in a that she could not quite fathom.
“Yes, I believe you are,” he said. “And you are doing a mighty fine job, at that. In fact, I believe I misjudged you at first. I underestimated you simply because you are a woman. I see now that was a terrible mistake. I believe you are just as capable as any male doctor. Please, forgive my initial harsh judgment of you and accept my sincere apology.”
Daisy’s mouth fell open, and she stared at the duke as her cheeks flushed a deep red. Those words gave her great pleasure, and, despite her worry for the duke, she gave him a bright smile.
“You truly are too kind, Lord Penwell,” she said. “Your words humble me greatly. I will continue to do everything in my power to restore Lord Berbrook to full health.”
The marquess nodded, rising and offering her his hand to help her up.
“I believe you will, Daisy,” he said, sending chills up her spine as he spoke her name. “Now, I shall not keep you from going home any longer. I can see how exhausted you are, and I do not wish to add to your discomfort by keeping you here. I hope the rest of your night is a pleasant and restful one. And thank you again for everything.”
Daisy could only stare at him for a long moment, completely stunned. She wanted to tell the marquess that it would be far from an imposition if he wished to speak to her longer. In fact, she welcomed every minute she talked with him, as she found herself wishing more every day for the chance to spend time with him. Instead, however, she finally managed to remember herself, if only a little, and gave him a small curtsey, with knees she was glad he could not see trembling.
“It is truly a pleasure, my lord,” she said softly, unable to look away from his gorgeous eyes. “And I hope you have a restful night, as well. Goodnight, Lord Penwell.”
