A Surrendered Heart (4 page)

“We certainly could have said it more,” Fanny replied. “I don’t suppose one ever declares love and admiration for another as much as one should.” She paused only a moment before wrapping her arms around Sophie.

“I love you so very much, my dear cousin. You and Amanda are true sisters to me.” She sniffed back tears. “I hope you know that I would do anything in my power to help either of you in any way.”

Sophie cried softly. “I do know that, Fanny. I feel the same way. I love you and Amanda with all my heart. To lose either of you is . . . well . . . unthinkable.”

Blake cradled Amanda’s head in the crook of his arm and offered a sip of water. “No,” she croaked from between parched lips. She touched her hand to her stomach and he understood. She would only suffer the pain of bringing up the small amount of liquid. He wet a cloth and dampened her lips, hoping it might ease her distress. He’d been by her side as much as possible, doing his best to lend comfort. What good was his medical training when he couldn’t do one thing to help this young woman who had willingly sacrificed her own health to help others?

“There are others who need medical attention,” Quincy said.

Blake glanced over his shoulder. The older man stood in the doorway, a shaft of light streaming over his shoulder. The sun must have finally made an appearance, but Blake hadn’t noticed.

“I’m doing what I can, Quincy. I’ve worn a path on the floor going back and forth to care for them and Amanda, but I hate to leave Amanda’s side.” He rested his forehead in his broad palm. “I feel so responsible. I should have forbidden her coming here to work. Instead, I chastised her if she was late and scoffed when she mentioned feeling unwell. What manner of physician does such a thing?” Blake looked at Quincy. “Even worse, what kind of
man
does such a thing?”

“You’re being too hard on yourself. These past weeks have been grueling, and you needed all of us to help wherever we could. Amanda understood that. She would never harbor ill feelings toward you. This is where she wanted to be.”

“But I knew the risk. I should have protected her.”

Quincy clapped him on the shoulder. “Come along. You’re needed elsewhere. We’ve had another death down the hall, and several others are showing symptoms.”

Blake nodded. “I’ll be there momentarily. You and the others can do as much for the dead as I can.”

Quincy didn’t argue but instead slipped quietly from the room.

Blake knew his strength would not last much longer. He needed sleep, but he couldn’t bring himself to take the time. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at Amanda. What would he do if she should die? When had she become so important to him? He tried to recall exactly when he’d realized the joy she provided with her quick smile and willing hands. She’d been more help than he’d ever acknowledged. She’d proved to be a bright student, quick to learn, and willing to accept correction and guidance—traits he’d found lacking in any man he’d ever attempted to teach. He should have told her all of these things. Instead, he’d chastised her if she occasionally dropped an instrument or misdiagnosed a patient.

The remembrance of his pomposity shamed him, and he gently lifted Amanda’s hand to his lips. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

Her eyelids fluttered. She looked at him, her deep brown Broadmoor eyes appearing clear and bright. “For what?” she murmured before slipping back into a semiconscious state.

He wanted her to remain awake so he could ease his feelings of despair. “Selfish man,” he muttered. “You should be thankful she’s not feeling pain at the moment. Instead you only want to relieve your own guilt.”

He released her hand and brushed a damp curl from her forehead. Even in the throes of debilitating illness, she remained lovely. He met with little success as he attempted to recall the first time he’d felt the agonizing ache that occurred when she was absent. She had woven herself into the fabric of his life, and now he couldn’t imagine a future without her. He stared at her quiet form and knew without a doubt that he loved her.

“Now what?” he whispered into the silent room. For the first time in his life, he was willing to acknowledge his love for a woman, but he knew she’d likely be dead within a few days—a week at most. He rested his face in his palms and listened to her uneven, rasping breath. “Please spare her, God.” He swiped at the tear trickling down his cheek. “I beg of you. Please let her live.”

4

Jonas sighed and shook his head in disbelief when Marvin hurried into the library at a near run. “Mrs. Andrew Winberg and children,” he announced, clasping a palm to his chest and inhaling deeply.

Beatrice glared at the butler as she brushed past him to enter the room, Miranda and Randolph at her heels. “I told him I know my way into the library and it isn’t necessary to announce family.”

The woman’s surly tone and pinched features had become her trademark. Yet today she appeared even more agitated than usual. And Jonas had already tolerated his share of distress for one day. Would he never get out of this house? He must find some way to retrieve his papers from Mortimer’s office. A wave of guilt assaulted him. His thoughts should be with his suffering daughter rather than the business files. But if any of his underhanded dealings became known, both friends and family would be harmed. He didn’t want to dwell on what might happen to him if such a thing should happen. No doubt he’d be faced with the same difficult decision his brother Langley had made years ago. But taking his own life wasn’t something he wanted to consider. He wasn’t certain if it was that thought or Beatrice’s whining voice that sent a chill racing down his spine, but he wanted to rid himself of both.

“If there’s a reason you’ve come to call, you’ll need to cease your histrionics, or we’ll never understand you,” Jonas barked at his niece.

His wife withdrew her handkerchief and waved it in his direction. “There’s no need to shout.”

“If I’m going to be heard, there is,” he retorted.

Beatrice glared at her uncle but curtailed her affected behavior and dropped into one of the overstuffed chairs.

Victoria turned to the children. “Come sit by your great-aunt, children.”

“My father has been quarantined at the Home for the Friendless. Something must be done.” Beatrice sniffled and cast a woeful look at Jonas.

“I am well aware of the quarantine. You are the third person who has rushed to tell me the ill-fated news. No one could be more concerned than—”

“Than
you
? When have you
ever
been concerned about my father?” Beatrice whipped her fan back and forth with a ferocity that caused her curls to ripple along her forehead like waves lapping at the shoreline.

Jonas sniffed. “I am not going to enter into an argument with you. Suffice it to say, I am very concerned about your father. I am even more concerned about my own daughter, who has contracted the illness.”

The fan dropped to her lap. “I didn’t know,” she whispered.

“Of course you didn’t. You never consider others.” Jonas felt no sympathy for Beatrice. She had been a cantankerous child, and marriage hadn’t softened her. Of course, there were those who would say the same of him. On the other hand, churlish behavior was more acceptable from a man. Women were supposed to be malleable creatures.

Victoria leaned over from the sofa and patted Beatrice’s hand. “Don’t mind your uncle. He’s had a difficult morning. Needless to say, we are most distraught over this recent news, but there is nothing to be done regarding the quarantine. I would like to bring Amanda home and care for her, but we must abide by the order or others may be infected with the disease. Paul has agreed to keep us advised of any changes.”

Beatrice straightened her shoulders. “Paul? Isn’t he under quarantine, also?”

“No. He hadn’t yet arrived at the Home when the authorities delivered the quarantine notice. As soon as Dr. Carstead advised him that Amanda had taken ill, he and Sophie came to tell us. They departed only a short time ago,” Victoria explained.

“Isn’t that just the way of things? If anyone should suffer, it’s my sister Sophie. Instead, all has gone well for her. She has Paul at home, and her baby is well. Meanwhile, dear, sweet Amanda is suffering with cholera. I suppose God has dealt lightly with Sophie because her husband is a preacher.” Beatrice sighed and once again lifted her fan.

Jonas frowned. “And is her suffering not as great as your own, Beatrice?”

“There is no good that will come from assessing the individual depth of sorrow or suffering each one of us bear,” Victoria said. “We are all family and must care for one another. Our concern is for every member.”

“I’m pleased to hear you say that, Aunt Victoria, for I have come to beg your hospitality until this epidemic has passed. Our home is too close to the area most affected by the outbreak, and I believe the children would be safer if we moved in with you.”

The children looked wide-eyed from Jonas to Victoria and then to their mother.

“What?” Jonas jumped up from his chair. “Just because you live in close proximity to the area doesn’t mean you’re in any greater danger than the rest of us. Paul and Sophie don’t live all that far from the same area, and they didn’t express concern for their circumstances.”

“I have heard some discussion that reinforces what Beatrice is saying,” Victoria remarked.

Jonas shot a look of irritation in his wife’s direction. What was she thinking? Didn’t he have enough to contend with in his life? The last thing he wanted was his whining niece and her unruly children underfoot.

He cleared his throat and met Beatrice’s beseeching eyes. If he refused her, he’d suffer Victoria’s wrath. At the moment he didn’t have the energy for an all-out war with his wife. Not now—not with the threat of his personal records being discovered by members of Mortimer’s family. He needed a plan.

“Perhaps Beatrice is correct about the threat to family members. I think it would be best if all of you departed for Broad-moor Island as soon as possible.”

“What?” Victoria stared at him, her mouth agape. “I suggested we all go to Broadmoor Island weeks ago, but you rejected my suggestion.
Now
you think it’s wise?”

“Changes have occurred since that time.”

“Indeed they have. Our daughter has been afflicted by the disease, and I’ll not leave her in Rochester while I go off to Broadmoor Island. I don’t know what you can be thinking, Jonas.”

“We need to be practical. There is nothing you can do for Amanda. They won’t let you into the Home, and I will keep in touch with Paul regarding her condition. For you to remain and become ill will serve no purpose. And it won’t help her.”

“But—”

Jonas pointed at his wife. “Hear me out, Victoria. Once Amanda is well enough to be removed from the Home, I will personally accompany her to the island. She’ll recuperate more quickly away from the city.”

“Oh, do say you’ll agree, Aunt Victoria,” Beatrice wailed. “It would truly be best for the entire family.”

Jonas wouldn’t have been surprised if his niece had dropped to her knees and begged. As far as he was concerned, she’d developed into a wretched example of womankind. “Though I am encouraging my wife to take refuge at the island, there is nothing to stop you and your children from going there. Have you discussed that possibility with your husband?”

“I hadn’t considered it. I don’t think Andrew would object, though I’m certain he’d refuse to accompany us.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “I’ve never been at the island without the family. I don’t know the first thing about opening the house. I’ve never been in charge when we visited.”

“I’ve never noticed you having difficulty issuing orders,” Jonas muttered.

Beatrice narrowed her eyes to mere slits. “What did you say, Uncle?”

“Nothing of importance. I’m merely contemplating the family’s departure.” That much was true. The thought of having the entire family out of the city buoyed his spirits. He’d have ample time to take care of business matters without any interference.

“I’m still not convinced this is what I should do,” Victoria argued. “And I know how you are, Jonas. If something arises at work, you’ll conveniently forget your promise to bring Amanda to the island.”

“You need not worry, Aunt Victoria. I’ll remain in Rochester and bring Amanda when she’s released from the quarantine,” Fanny announced.

Jonas sighed. Fanny had silently retreated to the bay window with her embroidery, and he’d completely forgotten she was present. His intent was for her to go to Broadmoor Island with the others. Now she’d inserted herself in the middle of his argument with Victoria. He had far too many women interfering in his life.

“But you love the island, and it would be an excellent opportunity for you to visit with Michael’s parents,” Jonas replied.

Beatrice snickered. “Since when are you concerned about that, Uncle Jonas?”

“Don’t try my patience, Beatrice. I was speaking to Fanny.”

Fanny set aside her stitching. “ ’Tis true I’d enjoy seeing Michael’s parents, and I do love the island, but not nearly as much as I love Amanda. I would count it a blessing if you’d permit me to remain and accompany her, Aunt Victoria. Even if Uncle Jonas comes with us, I’m certain she will still be weak and need a woman’s touch.”

“That’s likely true.” Victoria sniffed and dabbed her teary eyes.

Jonas could see his wife beginning to waver. He must take charge of the family’s relocation, or they would all remain in Rochester. And most likely in his house. The idea caused an involuntary shudder. Having only Fanny at the house in Rochester would be the better choice. She’d likely keep to her rooms when he was at home.

“Then it’s settled!” Ignoring his wife’s obvious trepidation, Jonas voiced the announcement in his most authoritative tone.

Fanny appeared surprised, while Beatrice was giddy with relief. “I’ll go home and pack. Do you think we’ll be gone for more than three weeks?” She didn’t await a reply before rattling on. “I’ll leave the children here while I start getting things organized at home; you don’t mind, do you? If Andrew insists upon staying in Rochester, I’ll advise him he should take refuge here with you, Uncle Jonas.”

“No!” Jonas barked. Beatrice’s wide-eyed stare and his wife’s look of displeasure were enough to warn Jonas that further explanation was in order. “I’m going to send the servants with your aunt, so there will be no one here except for me, Fanny, her personal maid, and my butler, of course. Andrew will be much more comfortable under his own roof.”

“But he’ll be safer here,” Beatrice whined.

Jonas frowned. Like the recent weather, Beatrice offered nothing but gloom. He’d be forced to convince her. “Let me talk to Andrew. I’m certain he isn’t nearly so concerned for himself. Once he knows you and the children are safe, he’ll settle into his usual routine and won’t give cholera another thought. Trust me.”

Beatrice offered a halfhearted nod.

Jonas could see she wasn’t totally convinced, but he didn’t let on. Instead, he patted her shoulder and complimented her insight. “I always knew you were an intelligent young woman.”

Beatrice beamed. The lie didn’t bother Jonas in the least. Such bold exaggerations were necessary if he was going to make any headway. If left to their own devices, these women would drive him mad before he could arrange for their train tickets.

“I’m not totally convinced I should go,” Victoria said. Her taffeta gown swished against his pant leg as she slowly paced across the room.

“Nonsense! It’s all settled. Instruct the servants to begin packing immediately. I’m going to the railroad station and will purchase tickets on the first train scheduled for Clayton tomorrow morning.” He extended his fingers and began to count.

“I’m not certain how many tickets you’ll need for the family and servants. We should conduct a head count.”

Beatrice quickly came to his aid. After seeking a bit of guidance from Victoria, his niece jotted names on a scrap of paper. When she presented the list to him a short time later, Jonas sighed with relief. He would regain control of his life once he had time to think and calculate his options.

Raindrops plunked into a metal pan that Blake had set beneath a newly discovered leak in the ceiling. They’d patched the roof last fall, but after last winter’s harsh snows and the ongoing spring rains, the patches were giving out. The Home needed a new roof. Blake had told Quincy as much, although Quincy had opted to expand the kitchen instead.

“We need to feed the starving,” he’d insisted.

When Quincy entered the room, Blake pointed to the pan. “Another leak. If it doesn’t quit raining, the cooks won’t have any kettles left in the kitchen.”

“We’ll patch the roof once the weather dries out.”

“Patch?” Blake snorted. “A new roof is what’s needed. I told you that last year.”

“And you were right. But there’s nothing that can be done about it until the rain lets up.” Quincy stooped down beside Amanda’s bed. “Is she faring any better?”

Blake shook his head. “Hard to tell at this point. She hasn’t taken in any more liquid, so she’s not throwing up. I’ve given her a dose of morphine. When she awakens, I’ll see if she can hold down any fluids.”

Quincy grasped his arm. “Until then, you need to come and help me with the others. There are few who are willing to lend a hand.”

“I can’t blame them. Remember to wash your hands after you touch any of the patients,” Blake said as he continued to stroke Amanda’s brow.

“I need your help with the others. I know you want to remain with Amanda, but I can’t do this without you.” Quincy tightened his grasp. “Come along and help me.”