Read Online Realm 07 - A Touch of Honor by Regina Jeffers - Free Book Online
Authors: Regina Jeffers
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companion he rushed to his baroness’s side. “What ails you?” he asked as he leaned across her form.
“Look at me!” Satiné wailed shrilly.
John attempted to focus upon her countenance, but the room’s shadows hid what brought his wife stress. “You must inform me of what I seek,” he pleaded.
“It is horrendous! I am appalling!” she yawped as she rolled over in the bed to face the wall.
John shot a pleading glance to Miss Neville. The lady looked down to where he crouched by his wife’s bed. Worry and annoyance darted across Miss Neville’s delicate features, and although he could not approve of the Miss Neville’s irritation, John perfectly understood the lady’s response to Satiné’s hysterics. “It appears, Sir, Baroness Swenton has contracted measles.”
As he stood, John cursed under his breath. “Measles. How in God’s name…?” he began, but swallowed the remainder of his words. “If this situation becomes common knowledge,” he reasoned, “the captain will put us off at the first available port, and no one will accept us for residence.”
“Have you known measles?” Miss Neville asked in concern. “I understand they are dangerous in adult males.”
From where the lady had learned so much practical knowledge, John meant to one day discover. “Yes. When I was seven, measles spread through our village.”
“I have known them also,” she explained. “If we could isolate Baroness Swenton, she could experience the disease without endangering others. Your lady was exposed at least a sennight earlier; her condition is of no result of our fellow passengers or the crew.”
“A quarantine of sorts.” John thought Miss Neville’s idea held merit. He glanced about the quarters. “Where are Mrs. Tailor and the boy?”
“I suggested the nurse take the child on deck until we could decipher how best to proceed.”
John smiled easily. He appreciated Miss Neville’s astute handling of a crisis. “I assume you instructed the lady not to discuss the baroness’s condition.”
“I did, Sir.”
“You shall permit me knowledge of my fate when you two have determined it,” his wife testily said. “If I am to be isolated, then I suggest you remove yourself from my quarters now. You must purchase an additional room for Miss Neville and Rupert.”
John gave a short ironic laugh. “That scenario would be ideal, but it is not possible, my Dear. This ship is too small for multiple vacant rooms.” John hesitated, uncertain for the reason for his reluctance to pronounce the obvious. With a shift of his shoulders and his resolve, he finally suggested, “With Miss Neville’s assistance, we will move you into my quarters. The room is half this one, but as you will require a bed more than any other piece of furniture, it will suffice for one occupant.” His eyes swept the room again. “Miss Neville, Mrs. Tailor, and Rupert can remain in these quarters. Miss Neville, please be certain to scrub every surface in the room. We must protect the baroness’s child.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Who will attend me?” His wife demanded. “Surely you do not mean to leave me to my own devices.”
“Miss Neville and I will take turns. It is of the utmost important no others discover your condition. It is essential, Satiné, you accept no other offers of assistance. If the captain sets us from the ship, I cannot protect you or the child. People have been known to kill strangers carrying the disease in order to protect their own.”
His wife’s expression darkened. “It is not necessary to paint such a dire picture. I understand my responsibility.”
John’s lips turned upward in a cynical smirk. “The bed remains empty in Lady Fiona’s quarters. I suspect it is time I share with my mother all the opinions I withheld throughout my life.”
Satiné shivered–from fever or fear–John did not know. “You mean to sleep in a room with a deceased person?” she asked in incredulity. “How
“Look at me!” Satiné wailed shrilly.
John attempted to focus upon her countenance, but the room’s shadows hid what brought his wife stress. “You must inform me of what I seek,” he pleaded.
“It is horrendous! I am appalling!” she yawped as she rolled over in the bed to face the wall.
John shot a pleading glance to Miss Neville. The lady looked down to where he crouched by his wife’s bed. Worry and annoyance darted across Miss Neville’s delicate features, and although he could not approve of the Miss Neville’s irritation, John perfectly understood the lady’s response to Satiné’s hysterics. “It appears, Sir, Baroness Swenton has contracted measles.”
As he stood, John cursed under his breath. “Measles. How in God’s name…?” he began, but swallowed the remainder of his words. “If this situation becomes common knowledge,” he reasoned, “the captain will put us off at the first available port, and no one will accept us for residence.”
“Have you known measles?” Miss Neville asked in concern. “I understand they are dangerous in adult males.”
From where the lady had learned so much practical knowledge, John meant to one day discover. “Yes. When I was seven, measles spread through our village.”
“I have known them also,” she explained. “If we could isolate Baroness Swenton, she could experience the disease without endangering others. Your lady was exposed at least a sennight earlier; her condition is of no result of our fellow passengers or the crew.”
“A quarantine of sorts.” John thought Miss Neville’s idea held merit. He glanced about the quarters. “Where are Mrs. Tailor and the boy?”
“I suggested the nurse take the child on deck until we could decipher how best to proceed.”
John smiled easily. He appreciated Miss Neville’s astute handling of a crisis. “I assume you instructed the lady not to discuss the baroness’s condition.”
“I did, Sir.”
“You shall permit me knowledge of my fate when you two have determined it,” his wife testily said. “If I am to be isolated, then I suggest you remove yourself from my quarters now. You must purchase an additional room for Miss Neville and Rupert.”
John gave a short ironic laugh. “That scenario would be ideal, but it is not possible, my Dear. This ship is too small for multiple vacant rooms.” John hesitated, uncertain for the reason for his reluctance to pronounce the obvious. With a shift of his shoulders and his resolve, he finally suggested, “With Miss Neville’s assistance, we will move you into my quarters. The room is half this one, but as you will require a bed more than any other piece of furniture, it will suffice for one occupant.” His eyes swept the room again. “Miss Neville, Mrs. Tailor, and Rupert can remain in these quarters. Miss Neville, please be certain to scrub every surface in the room. We must protect the baroness’s child.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Who will attend me?” His wife demanded. “Surely you do not mean to leave me to my own devices.”
“Miss Neville and I will take turns. It is of the utmost important no others discover your condition. It is essential, Satiné, you accept no other offers of assistance. If the captain sets us from the ship, I cannot protect you or the child. People have been known to kill strangers carrying the disease in order to protect their own.”
His wife’s expression darkened. “It is not necessary to paint such a dire picture. I understand my responsibility.”
John’s lips turned upward in a cynical smirk. “The bed remains empty in Lady Fiona’s quarters. I suspect it is time I share with my mother all the opinions I withheld throughout my life.”
Satiné shivered–from fever or fear–John did not know. “You mean to sleep in a room with a deceased person?” she asked in incredulity. “How
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