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Sarah kept the cloth on Rose’s chest, rewetting it every so often with Mrs. Walker’s remedy. After another half hour, the doctor arrived. Sarah gave him her post by the bedside.
He rubbed his hands along the rash on her chest and along her arms, where it also included white bumps. He pulled back her lips and looked in her mouth. Then he took her pulse.
“Was she sick before the rash? Runny nose or coughing?”
“No, sir. Well, she had a bit of a runny nose when she first arrived here, but it was due to being outside in the cold. I wiped it up and she’s been fine ever since. That was nigh on a week ago. You don’t think she took a chill, do you? She was fine this morning. She ate a good breakfast. Porridge, a boiled egg, toasted muffin with blackberry jelly. Milk! I almost forgot she drank a glass of fresh milk. From Mr. Walker’s special cows. It’s Rose’s favorite.” The butler kept his own cows in the stables and prided himself on feeding them the best hay, thus producing the best-tasting milk.
“I’m sure the doctor doesn’t need to know such details,” said Mrs. Walker. It wouldn’t be proper.
“On the contrary,” the doctor replied. “This is one of those times where the more details the better.”
“Um, let’s see,” Sarah continued. “After breakfast we went outside to hear the birds singing. A wood pigeon and a robin. Rose stepped off the path and had a bit of trouble with some nettles, but I washed it right away. I got some too, just here on my leg.” She lifted her nightdress and showed where she’d been stung, but it was so faint it could not be seen in the dim light of the room. “Then, when she calmed down after the nettles, we had lunch. A warm stew from the cook, some cold ham—that’s Rose’s favorite—and a wedge of Cook’s gingerbread pudding. Doctor, it’s the best thing I ever tasted.”
Mr. Selwood let out a grunting sound behind her.
“Let’s go back to the nettles.” The doctor looked again at the rash on Rose’s body. “Where did she get stung?”
“Just here. On her arms.” She showed him. “And nowhere else. I checked carefully.”
The doctor opened Rose’s mouth again and looked inside. Then he stood. “She is having a reaction to the nettles. I’ve seen this once before.”
“A reaction?” said Mr. Selwood.
“Yes. Every once in a while, there is a person whose body rejects what a normal body can easily tolerate. When that happens, the consequences can be mild, or as in this case, life threatening.”
“Life threatening?” Sarah had only taken her eyes off the girl for a moment. Now she might have killed her.
“In this case,” the doctor continued, “the illness has affected far beyond the afflicted area. Her mouth and throat are swollen, making it difficult for her to breathe.”
“What do we do?” Sarah asked. Was Mrs. Walker’s concoction even helping at all?
“Under normal circumstances, I would prescribe a nettle tincture to reduce the swelling. But in this case, I feel that would be unwise. I’ll prepare an alternative medicine that may help. Keep applying the mint water to her chest to keep her lungs clear. And if you have a rosemary sachet, burn it like incense and let her inhale the smoke. Beyond that, we must wait and hope her humors will return to balance.”
“That’s it?” Sarah wanted a cure, not a wait and see.
“The substance causing the problem has swollen her blood, thus creating the imbalance. I could let some, but that procedure has its own risks in a child so small.”
“No,” said Mr. Selwood. “There will be no bloodletting.” His face had gone completely white, and he stood with his back pressed against the door, as if he’d rather be on the front lines fighting the French than here.
The doctor nodded. “Then we must wait. Either her blood will accept its new element or it will not. We cannot force it. It is spring, the season of blood, so that is something in our favor.” He opened his bag and removed a bottle of laudanum. “I’ll give her a small dose, enough to help her relax but not enough to depress her respiration. Do you have a syrup?”
“I will fetch some,” said Mrs. Walker.
But before she could take a single step, Mr. Selwood stumbled out through the door, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll go.”
Mrs. Walker directed her eyes at Sarah, but Sarah could not understand the weighty look. Mrs. Walker had been the housekeeper for ages. Long enough to see Mr. Selwood grow from babe to man, she’d told Sarah more than once.
It took a good ten minutes before the syrup arrived, but it wasn’t Mr. Selwood who delivered it, it was Mary. She handed the thickened sugar water to Mrs. Walker and quickly left the room.
The doctor added several drops of laudanum to the syrup and spooned a spoonful into Rose’s mouth. With great effort, she managed to swallow it.
“Give her another dose in four hours.” He packed his things into his worn leather bag. “Send someone if she gets worse.” Then he was gone.
#
Sarah sat with Rose throughout the night, applying the herbal water to her chest and dosing her with the laudanum tincture according to the doctor’s instructions. The air in the room was thick with smoking rosemary.
Sarah had been the so-called governess for less than a week, and already Rose had nearly died. She’d barely passed muster as a maid. What on earth made her think she could ever be a governess? Mr. Selwood had made a grave mistake advancing her to such a position.
Whoever heard of such a promotion anyway? Governesses weren’t picked from the pool of lower house staff. They were refined ladies with accomplishments. Women who’d also been raised by governesses and understood the proper care and raising of children. Sarah had been raised by a school. A group of teachers who cared a little, but not a lot, about her.
It was time to move on, before her past caught up with her. This was not the place for her, and she should never be given responsibility for a living creature again.
Throughout the night, Rose’s redness slowly faded and her breathing improved. By the following afternoon, Rose was at last resting peacefully. When she was sure Rose was out of danger, Sarah left the child sleeping in their large bed and went to find Mr. Selwood.
She knocked on his chamber door. There was no answer. Of course he wouldn’t be in there this late in the day. Her sense of time was off because she’d not slept at all. She went next to the library and rapped on the door.
“Enter,” came Mr. Selwood’s voice from inside.
She pushed the door open and marched across the floor to stand in front of his desk.
“Why me?” she demanded.
He stared at her; his eyebrows hitched up like someone was pulling his hair too tightly from behind.