Chapter 12

Grace had finally been persuaded to leave William's side many hours after the operation. Being there whilst the procedure had been carried out had to go down as one of the most horrific experiences of her life. The noises. She shuddered, trying to block out the memory, but she knew it would be a long time before she could look back at what had happened without feeling nauseous.

William had survived. She had struggled to contain her emotions when the operation was finished, and he still breathed. Her worry that she had condemned him to death when insisting he needed the operation was lifted from her shoulders when the doctor started to wash up, and James and Matthew tidied away the aftermath.

The doctor had put paid to any jubilation she might have felt by being cautious about the next stage of William's recovery. "Getting him through this hurdle does not guarantee that he is out of the woods yet. The poison could already have spread, but it will take a day or two before we know for certain; it does not make an appearance immediately. If he has avoided lockjaw taking effect, he will still very likely face fever as his body struggles with what has happened. Let us hope that his body does not stop fighting. Losing a leg is such a shock to the system that he will have a long, slow recovery afterwards and will need much support."

"He will receive whatever he needs," Grace assured him. "He has friends and family who will make sure he has all the help required."

"He is lucky to have a strong woman by his side. It is not my habit to speak out of turn, but I have to say that if he survives, it will be purely because of your intervention. Every moment was reducing his chances. I am glad that you realised the implications, for Mr Marsh was adamant that he would never agree to have his leg removed. Most patients will do anything to remain alive; it is quite unusual to be faced with someone who refuses to give himself the best chance."

"I could not let him make yet another foolish decision, although I had something to do with the first one he made. I would not be swayed by the wishes of another person this time, but believe me, he will curse me to the devil when he regains consciousness," Grace confessed. "But I will accept whatever accusations he levels at me if it means he lives for another day."

"He will not wake for a few days if the laudanum is administered as I have instructed. It will give you time to prepare for your scolding." The doctor smiled at Grace. "I will call back on the morrow, but if anything changes for the worse, please do not delay sending for me. I am not sure what else I can do, but if the poison has spread, keeping his body relaxed might help a little as the spasms take hold. My aim in that situation will be to reduce the number of fractures he suffers before the end, but I will struggle to make things easier for him. There is little any of us can do once the poison takes hold."

Grace shuddered at the thought of William dying through lockjaw. She had never seen anyone do so, but she had heard the horror stories about those who had been inflicted with the disease. It was not a nice thought for the doctor to leave on, but at least he was being honest and not trying to bamboozle her with false hope.

She had insisted that she could nurse William, releasing the three men who had done so much for him but were relieved to be out of the sick room. When finally alone, she had bathed his forehead, watching him closely yet dreading seeing any sort of spasm in his body which might be a sign that the operation had been in vain. If the days after their argument and separation had felt long, these next few days were going to be interminable. They had been apart for decades, but at least he had been there, a distant part of her life, but still there. She could not bear the thought of him leaving her life forever.

Quietly ruminating to herself, she almost laughed at the plans she had decided upon. Going abroad? Settling somewhere that Fanny and herself liked? It was all a foolish notion to try and block out that she had made the biggest mistake of her life and had always regretted it. Longing for him to recover, she promised herself that she would be honest with him once and for all. He deserved that, and if he turned away from her after she had apologised, then so be it. She would have done all that was in her power to do, and at least her conscience would be clear. She had hurt him but had never admitted it, not to him anyway. She was overdue in explaining herself and was ashamed that she prided herself on her integrity and honesty but had failed with the person who meant the most to her.

Julia and Florry had entered the sick room several times during the remainder of the day, and though they had protested that Grace should allow them to nurse William, she had refused their offers of help. She wanted to be the one to care for him. She had so much to make up for, and this was the least she could do. The reality was that her heart ached every time one of them mentioned her leaving his side.

It was past midnight, and she had finally given in to the appeal by Julia and Florry to get some rest. Promising to return after a few hours' sleep, she was now faced with the thought of nightmares if she allowed her eyes to close.

A slight knock on the door revealed Fanny. "Can I come in?" she asked, peeping her head around the door.

"Yes, of course, but I am afraid I will not be good company."

Fanny held a cup of hot chocolate. "I thought you might struggle to sleep, so I brought this. Let me help you get ready for bed."

"Thank you, but I am not sure if I want to lie down."

"You need the rest. We cannot have you being ill too." Fanny handed Grace the warm cup and guided her to her dressing table, starting to unpin her hair the moment Grace sat down.

"Fanny, it was horrible," Grace said. As she sipped the hot chocolate, the warmth seeped through her body. "Have you put whisky in this?"

"Just a drop," Fanny confessed. "I hoped it would help relax you. I have been in sickrooms but never while an operation took place. I cannot imagine being strong enough to withstand that."

"I had to. I could not have borne being outside when he was in such a life-and-death situation."

"I know." Fanny brushed out Grace's hair, letting the waves of dark brown streaked with grey slide through her fingers. "When you need to talk about what happened, I will be ready to listen, but for now at least you need all your strength to care for William. I am sure I am not wrong in thinking you will be at his bedside as much as possible over these coming days."

"He asked me to stay beside him, and I will as much as I can. The doctor advises that William remain sedated these first few days. He said if the poison has already gone into his body, then after the first day or two the signs will start to be felt."

"Oh Grace, I am truly sorry that he has had to go through this. He did not deserve it, the poor man."

"It was an accident. No one could have foreseen that he would take himself off in such a way or that there was a trap out there."

"It has all been so unfortunate."

Grace let Fanny help her undress. It was a relief that it was her cousin and not a maid who was helping, for she could be herself with Fanny. "This is very kind of you, but I expect this is hard for you after all you did for Stewart." A cloud crossed Fanny's face. "What is it?" Grace was quick to respond to her cousin's distress.

"I was not a good wife, Grace."

Grace snorted. "He was far from a good husband, as we all know."

"He was not, but when he was at his most vulnerable, I could not bring myself to be the wife I had tried to be throughout our marriage."

Grace climbed into the large bed and threw back the covers to encourage Fanny to climb in beside her. The fire was low in the grate, and there was a chill in the room. "No one could blame you for that."

"Oh Grace, I have to tell someone, for it has been eating my insides since he died. I hastened his death."

The words hung in the air for a moment before Grace responded. She took a sip of what was left of the hot chocolate, giving herself the smallest amount of time to think about her response. Finally, she took hold of Fanny's hand after putting the now empty cup on her bedside table. "How?" she asked gently.

"I did not kill him," Fanny said quickly. "Not directly anyway, but I employed a nurse who I knew was not the best, and I never visited his chamber. I could hear him calling my name when I was on my own, though he was bedbound, and I never went to him. Instead, I feigned illness and slept in a different room, unable to hear his pleas for me to go to him."

"That did not make his death any more guaranteed than it would have been if you had nursed him, surely?"

"The nurse was not clean; I knew that before I employed her. I wanted him to die, Grace, I could not face another moment with him, and when I could have received his gratitude, when he finally wanted me near him to receive my care, I turned my back on him as he had done to me for years."

"Oh Fanny, please do not cry. It is over. I think you are blaming yourself for events that you had no control over. No one would blame you for hiding away from Stewart when you could, but if he had survived, he would have punished you for your neglect. It was a dangerous risk you took."

"I knew she would not care for him. When the servants laid him out, they said his body was in such a state, the steward was violently sick. It is haunting me, Grace!" Fanny wailed. "How can I ever be happy when I know what I caused to happen to my husband, who I had vowed to care for, no matter how he was with me and now all this with William! It is too much! I am cursed!"

"The two are separate," Grace soothed, surprised and a little confused at Fanny's words. "It is still only six months since Stewart died, so of course being close to another sickroom would remind you of what you went through with him. Fanny, you must not be overcome; the cases are different. William is loved, and there is absolutely no need for you to spend any time nursing him. He will not be neglected and will only receive the best care."

"Oh Grace, if only it was so simple. I am so sorry about my part in everything. I am coming to the conclusion that I am not as different from Stewart as I would hope. We are both selfish beings and have acted in ways that are in our own best interests. I cannot stand to think that I have hurt people I care for as a result of putting my own feelings and desires first."

Grace shook her head. "Fanny, I can honestly say that you are nothing like your husband."

"Sometimes I feel he was the better of the two of us."

"Fanny! After all that you wrote about him, you are now defending him. I do not understand." Grace was shocked at the turn of the conversation and would have liked to question Fanny further, but she also needed rest before returning to William. She was determined that once William was out of danger, she would have a long talk with Fanny, for she was not herself.

"People are not always consistent, Grace. Situations cause us to act in different ways, and life is not as simple as you think it is." There was a hard edge to Fanny's tone, and she climbed out of the warmth of the bed. "I apologise, Grace. All you are going through, and I am being a wet goose and trying to seek some sort of redemption from you."

"This is not like you," Grace said. "I feel there is more to tell, for a lot of what you are saying does not make sense."

"There is more, but now is not the time. I am so sorry for being a ninnyhammer. I do hope you can get some rest, though my ramblings would suggest that I have not helped in that regard."

Grace smiled. "Be gone with you. Of course you have helped. Whenever you are ready to tell me all that is troubling you, I am here to listen."

"I do not deserve you, but I am grateful that you are my cousin, for I know you have a forgiving nature for which I am especially thankful," Fanny said before leaving the bedchamber.

Grace frowned at her hands as her fingers plucked at the bedcover when Fanny had left. There was something amiss with her, but she had no idea what it could be. Her confession about hiring a poor nurse in the hope that it would speed Stewart's demise was not the nicest thing to have done to someone who was severely ill, but it was not criminal in any way. Many people employed nurses rather than care for the patient themselves. She wondered if Fanny was a little more hysterical than she had remembered. If she was, it was hardly any wonder after living on her nerves for so long with a cruel husband, but there were other indications that Fanny was not as she remembered. She was harder, bitter even, but Grace hoped that when the mourning period for Stewart was well and truly over, Fanny would start to relax and return to the woman Grace used to know. She was ashamed to admit to herself that she had begun to dread travelling with Fanny as a few times she found what she said to be disagreeable at best and outright unpleasant in some instances.

Her thoughts brought her around to William, and she sank into the pillows, promising herself that she would only sleep for an hour or two and then return to his chamber.

That was the last thought she had as the strain of the day and the soothing drink took effect.