Free If You Were Mine by Rebecca King Page A

had instantly
eased Dominic’s fears.
    Whenever
anyone was ill in the house, family or staff, Mrs Holcombe always
had a remedy that would set them on to the road to recovery. She
would know what to do about Isobel now. Certainly, they would not
be able to send someone to fetch the doctor until the snow eased.
If the sound of the increasing winds rattling the window panes were
any indication, that wouldn’t be any time soon.
    Moments
later, a dishevelled Mrs Holcombe appeared beside him.
    “ Please Mrs Holcombe, what do we do?” He hated sounding so
helpless, but was at a loss to know how to help her. Sitting beside
a mortally wounded soldier on the battlefields as he met his maker
was different to sitting beside someone you loved, and helplessly
watching them fight for their lives.
    “ Sir, we shall bathe her and change her clothes. We need to
warm the room up.” She failed to add that she didn’t like the sound
of the faint breaths coming from the unfortunate young girl who had
clearly got a huge claim on the Master’s heart.
    Dominic
nodded and stood back, desperately running a hand through his hair
as he watched and waited.
    Over the
past few days, Mrs Holcombe had become used to the Master’s
unconventional manner towards the young Miss, and had given up
arguing and trying to get him to leave to preserve the young lady’s
modesty. Whatever happened, the young lady was well and truly
ruined the first night she appeared in the house. But all of that
paled to insignificance with the realisation that after such a
prolonged and severe illness, it would be a blessing if she were
still with them at the end of the ordeal.
    Isobel
was quickly changed into a warm, dry nightgown, and the sheets
around her swapped for clean dry ones. The fire was stoked almost
constantly until Dominic felt sweat break out on his brow as the
temperature rose to unbearable heights. Isobel convulsed into
wracking coughs, the like of which he had never heard before. On
and on they went, until Dominic thought he would go quietly mad.
Unable to bear sitting next to her doing nothing, he perched upon
the bed and carefully pulled her into his embrace.
    “ Please darling, you need to try to relax,” he pleaded softly,
kissing the damp tendrils of hair on her forehead. He nodded his
thanks to Mrs Holcombe as he poured the tincture left by the doctor
several days ago. “If you can hear me my love, you need to drink
this.” He waited until the coughs eased enough to slip the spoon
into her mouth, wincing as she coughed and spluttered against the
liquid intrusion. He wondered briefly if she would throw up again,
but after several moments she subsided once again into a fitful
slumber.
    “ We need to send for the doctor Sir,” Mrs Holcombe stated
calmly, not liking the green tinge of the lady’s
complexion.
    “ We can’t send anyone out in this, it would be suicide to do
so,” Dominic declared matter-of-factly. “Even if we could get
someone to make the trip, the doctor wouldn’t risk a journey here
no matter what I offered him.”
    He
cursed the atrocious weather, but knew he was going to go anyway.
To sit and wait out the storm with Isobel in such a poor condition
was simply unthinkable.
    “ I’ll go and get some different medication. If I describe her
condition, he may be able to give us something to assist
her.”
    “ But Sir -,” Mrs Holcombe was aghast at his
proposition.
    “ I have to,” Dominic’s tone brooked no argument. He would go
quietly mad if he had to sit around and wait for her to die. He had
to do everything he could to help her.
    Within
moments, despite the vociferous protests of his most loyal serving
staff, he had left the house.
     
    The
skies were brightening with the first glimpse of dawn when Dominic,
shivering, exhausted and covered in snow, appeared at the kitchen
doors of Havistock Hall. With growing dread he entered the house,
praying silently that he wouldn’t be greeted by the news that
Isobel had passed