Star-Crossed by Linda Collison

Author:Linda Collison [Collison, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-49129-9
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2006-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Molesworth was stretched across the bed in his nightshirt, his sheets tangled in a knot at the foot. The left side of his face was engaged in a fusillade of rapid winking and erratic twitching. His eyes were yellow.

Aeneas, undaunted, rolled up his sleeves and went to work. “Pulse is rapid and thready,” he said, picking up the lieutenant's wrist. “Skin: hot, dry, jaundiced. Please make a note of that, Mrs. MacPherson.”

I nodded, though I had brought nothing to write on. “Dose him with calomel,” the doctor continued, “and bleed him half a pint. Cover him so that he might sweat it out.”

Aeneas walked toward the door, motioning me to follow.

“I am off to the fort to see if this has befallen the soldiers as well,” he said. “I must speak with the garrison surgeon; we may need to improvise a hospital.”

“But what is it?” I whispered. “What is wrong with him?”

Aeneas was not one to mince words. His face was brutally honest. “Yellow fever,” he said.

I winced. “Are you certain?”

“Aye, lass. I have seen it before.”

I was seized with panic. Of all the tropical diseases, the one called yellow fever was the most feared. It came on swiftly, caused horrible suffering. It was said that more than half of those who came down with a bad case of yellow fever didn't survive and that once a victim began to vomit the black bile, he might as well call the undertaker.

“What shall we do, sir?” I said.

“Ye have your instructions. Bleed him, dose him, diaphorese him. Keep the window wide open and wash everything in sight with vinegar water.” He reached for the doorknob. “Meanwhile, I must go to the fort.”

“Don't go!” I grabbed his arm. “Please don't leave me alone with him.”

“Ye're not alone; ye have Tibbs.” He nodded toward the servant who cowered in the corner of the room.

“But what if he—” I could not say the word.

Aeneas said it for me. “What if he dies?” His eyes hardened. “Then we'll see that he has a proper Englishman's burial.”

“No!” I clutched his sleeve in both hands. “I cannot stay here!”

The doctor's face was imperturbable. “Ye can,” he said calmly. “I won't be gone but a few hours. Send Tibbs to fetch me if his condition changes.” He kissed my forehead, pried my fingers off his arm, and calmly left the room. I ran to the window and watched him lumber along toward Fort Barclay.

“Aeneas!”

He heard me, paused, and looked up to see what it was I wanted.

“I am not cut out for this,” I cried.

“Ye must rise to the occasion, lass,” he said, continuing on.

“Damn you,” I swore, stamping my foot. “I won't stay here,” I called out after him. “I am going back to the inn this very minute. How can you expect me to do this?” But Aeneas did not hear me and continued on his way.

Yet I did stay. Angry and afraid, still I could not bring myself to leave Molesworth in his condition. With

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