"Aunt Cordelia is always screaming," Judith said. Then her eyes fell on Ellie and she asked, "What happened?"
"She burned her hands," Charles replied.
"How?" Claire asked, her voice oddly scratchy.
"The jam," he answered. "She—" He turned to Ellie, hoping that she might forget about some of the pain if he included her in the conversation. "How the hell did this happen?"
"The pot," she gasped. "It was so silly of me. I should have noticed it wasn't where I left it."
Helen stepped forward, knelt down, and placed a comforting arm around Ellie's shoulders. "What do you mean?"
Ellie turned to her new cousin. "When we set the jam to cook ... we wanted it at low heat. Remember?"
Helen nodded.
"It must have been moved closer to the firebox. I didn't notice." She stopped and swallowed down a cry of pain as Mrs. Stubbs pressed one of the bandages into place and began work on the other hand.
"Then what happened?" Helen asked.
"The handles were hot. It surprised me and I dropped the pot. When it hit the floor..." Ellie squeezed her eyes tightly, trying not to remember that awful moment when the purple liquid was everywhere, and then it was on her skin, and the burning sensation was awful, so awful.
"That's enough," Charles ordered, clearly sensing her distress. "Helen, remove Claire and Judith from the kitchen. They don't need to witness this. And see to it that a bottle of laudanum is brought to Ellie's room."
Helen nodded, took her daughters' hands, and left the room.
"I don't want laudanum," Ellie protested.
"You don't have any choice. I refuse to stand by and do nothing to ease your pain."
"But I don't want to sleep. I don't want to ..." She swallowed and looked up at him, feeling more vulnerable than she had in her entire life. "I don't want to be alone," she finally whispered.
Charles leaned down and dropped a feathery kiss on her temple. "Don't worry," he murmured. "I won't leave your side. I promise."
And when they finally gave her the laudanum and put her into bed, he settled down into a chair at her bedside. He watched her face as she fell into slumber, and then he sat in silence until sleep claimed him as well.
Chapter 16
When Charles awoke several hours later, Ellie was thankfully still asleep. The laudanum he had given her would surely wear off soon, however, so he poured another dose for when she woke up. He wasn't certain how long the burns would remain painful, but he was damned if he was going to let her suffer needlessly. He didn't think he could bear another minute of listening to her trying to suppress her whimpers of pain.
Quite simply, it tore his heart in two.
Charles covered his mouth to silence a yawn as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the bedroom. He hated late autumn, when the days were short and the sun set early. He longed for the warmth of summer, or even the crisp air of spring, and wondered what Ellie looked like in the summer when the sun stayed high in the sky well into night. Would the light hit her hair differently? Would it look redder? Or perhaps blonder? Or would she look exactly the same, only warmer to the touch?
At that thought, he leaned down and smoothed a lock of hair off her forehead, careful to avoid accidentally brushing against her bandaged hands. He was about to repeat the motion when a soft knock sounded at the door. Charles rose and crossed the room, wincing at the clicking noise his boots made when he stepped off of the carpet and onto the floor. He glanced over at Ellie and breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw she was still sleeping soundly.
He opened the door to reveal Claire, who was standing in the hallway, biting her lip and wringing her hands. Her eyes were puffy and so red that he could see their irritation even in the dim candlelight of the windowless corridor.
"Charles," she blurted out, her voice sounding overly loud. "I have to—"
He raised his finger to his lips and stepped into the hallway, shutting the door carefully behind him. Then, much to Claire's obvious befuddlement, he sat down.
"What are you doing?"
"Removing my boots. I haven't the patience to locate my valet for assistance."
"Oh." She looked down at him, clearly confused as to how to proceed. Charles may have been Claire's cousin, but he was also a belted earl, and one didn't often look down upon an earl.
"You wished to speak with me?" he said, grasping the heel of his left boot.
"Er, yes. I did. Well, actually, it is Ellie with whom I need to speak." Claire swallowed convulsively. The reflex seemed to shake her entire body. "Is she awake?"
"No, thank God, and I plan to give her another dose of laudanum the minute she awakens."
"I see. She must be in terrible pain."
"Yes, she is. Her skin has blistered, and she will most likely bear scars for the rest of her life."
Claire flinched. "I-I burned myself once. Just with a candle, but it hurt terribly. Ellie never even cried out. At least not that I heard. She must be very strong."
Charles paused in his efforts to remove his right boot. "Yes," he said softly, "she is. More so than I ever imagined."
Claire was silent for a long moment, and then she said, "May I speak with her when she wakes up? I know you want to give her more laudanum, but it will take a few minutes for it to take effect, and—"
"Claire," he interrupted, "can it not wait until morning?"
She swallowed again. "No. It truly cannot."
His eyes locked onto her face and stayed there even as he rose to his feet. "Is there something you feel you should tell me?" he asked in a low voice.