I want to stay one chapter ahead of what I'm posting, so the next chapter may take a little longer to post.
Enjoy!
On opening the door and crossing the threshold he had thought he was prepared to see Anne in the state that she was currently in, but he learnt in that moment, that he was not.
The rosy glow that had dominated her cheeks a few days previous when they had walked along the shore line, had been replaced by a harsh red glare. A stark contrast to the rest of her face that was a deathly shade of white.
Sweat littered her forehead and he found himself drawn to her, wiping at her brow with a nearby cloth. Her skin radiated such a heat that it warmed his hands, but when he reached down to pick up her hand, he almost dropped it again; they where frozen.
He pulled both hands from where they rested on top of the sheets and gathered them within his own, hoping that he would be able to warm them a little with his own body heat.
A sudden heaviness settled upon him then, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up on the bed beside her, gather her in his arms and wish it all away. There was no propriety in that though, so he settled on laying his head down on the bed next to hers. Closing his eyes he listened to her rasping breathing and the rattle of her chest, her bodies response to the fluid that was slowly coating and filling her lungs.
Frederick had no idea how long he sat in silent meditation and prayer, though it seemed like to time at all before Margaret Harville was tapping him on the shoulder and rousing him from his thoughts.
"We are going to move her to my room," she said quietly as she surveyed the woman on the bed, a hand hovering millimetres away from Anne's skin. The heat was pliable even at that distance and not for the first time that evening, Margaret feared for the for the health of the woman she had come to regard as a friend.
"What do you require me to do?" Frederick asked, his voice weary.
"Can you carry her? She needs to be taken into Harry's room first of all, then once Miss Louisa has passed, into mine." Frederick nodded and stood, folding her arms carefully over her body. "Take the sheet as well. She needs to be kept warm."
Carefully, and ever so gently, Frederick worked his hands beneath Anne's body. Mindful to push the cover with him, round her body, so that she was swaddled in the same manner as a babe.
Anne had always seemed small and delicate in stature to Frederick, but it alarmed him at how easily he was able to lift her. He had noticed that she had lost a little weight recently but still, it should have given him some hassle and strain.
Through the layers of blankets and bedclothes he could feel how thin she had gotten and he silently cursed himself for being too preoccupied with other things to notice her wasting away before his eyes.
When she was safely settled in his arms Margaret stepped up beside him and made sure that the blanket covered her completely. She laid a hand on Frederick's shoulder . The man looked utterly stricken and Margaret wondered how she could have missed his utter devotion to the woman he held in his arms, when it sung out so loud and clear.
"Come on," she said. Leading him from one room into the other before turning and letting him pass her. Sticking her head back out of the door, she called to her husband.
Frederick noticed their passing in the hallway but didn't acknowledge it. The main body of his attention was elsewhere. He had taken a seat on the edge of the bed, more as something to do rather than from tiredness. He would have paced the room otherwise.
As the two of them sat in silence, they could hear muffled voices and sounds of movement through the door and that seemed to signify that things where progressing. He only wished the could go even faster.
Fredericks sharp intake of breath drew Margaret away from her position at the door, cutting through the silence that blanketed the room.
"What is it?" she asked, going to him and kneeling down by his side.
Anne had turned her head, her skin coming in contact to his as her forehead come to rest upon the exposed section of skin at his throat. "She's burning up."
Frowning, Margaret raised her own hand to check and silently lamented the fact the in the brief time since the surgeon had called she seemed to be getting worse.
"The fever is taking hold," she said gravely. "The sooner we can get her settled in the other room, the better. We can make a start on sweating it out then."
Frederick removed his hand from around Anne's legs, allowing them to fall upon his own, and used his free hand to tenderly brush the hair back from her face.
"You care for her," Margaret remarked. The words coming out not so much as a question, but rather a statement. He nodded. "I would have never guessed," she said lightly, her mind full of moments where he had seemed less than friendly with the young woman whom he now held so protectively in his arms.
Frederick, to his credit, looked ashamed at that moment. "We have not been on the best speaking terms at late," he said, shaking his head almost angrily. "Too much pride and resentment on my side. Too much hurt."
Margaret watched him as he spoke. He was talking to her but all his attention was on Anne.
She opened her mouth to speak when a knock sounded at the door. Frederick barely responded to the noise but placed his arm back where it had been under Anne's legs and planted his feet more firmly in anticipation of standing.
Margaret opened the door to reveal her husband. "She is in Benwick's room. He has stayed to keep her occupied."
She nodded in response. ""I'll go and help Martha change the sheets. Give us a few minutes." And with that she left the room.
Silence again enveloped the room, punctuated only by the heavy, rasping breathing of the woman clasped gently, but securely, to Fredericks body.
"I cant lose her Harry," Frederick choked out suddenly. "Not like this. Not when she still hates me."
"She doesn't hate you," Harville said quietly and Frederick answered with a noise of protest from the back of his throat.
"She doesn't," Harville persisted, coming further into the room. "I think she is hurt, and more than a little confused by the way you have been acting. Especially recently. But she doesn't hate you." He paused and swallowed, content that he had his friends attention. "I do not think she ever could, though it must be breaking her heart to see you cavorting round with another woman right in front of her eyes."
"I have messed things up, haven't I?" Frederick asked quietly, already knowing the answer.
"Then let us hope my friend, that you have the chance to make them right."