Author's Note:At the end of the chapter are translations of the French phrases used, but it seemed to suit a fevered Jack. Forgive any inaccuracies in my French, I haven't used it much in recent years so it's rusty. Also, the medical condition mentioned, cellulitis is an infection underneath the skin, not to be confused with cellulite which is fat and most certainly not an issue for our hero. Reviews make me happy and write faster.

Chapter 11

Samantha tried desperately to remember any medical knowledge she'd ever learned which might help her save Jack. Most of her studies were for understanding killers, not saving them. As she waited for the ice, she tried to coax more willow bark tea into Jack, Sam did recall that is was the crude equivalent of aspirin, so hopefully it would bring his fever down. His flesh was hot and clammy under her hands as she held him. Even if the transfusion helped there was a good chance that he would lose his arm, leg or both due to the infection. Of equal and more immediate concern was the possibility of brain damage from the fever.

When the ice arrived in a large bowl, Samantha stabbed it with an icepick and started taking small slivers and rubbing them on Jack's lips. He was becoming dehydrated from the blood loss and his lips had begun to dry and crack. Hopefully as she fed him the melting pieces it would take even the edge off his fever. Jack thrashed and moaned in fever induced delirium.

He cried out, his French accent heavier in his fevered state. "Samantha-"

"I'm here, Jack," Samantha soothed gently and kissed his forehead. Taking another piece of ice she gently traced his lips, allowing it to slowly melt into his mouth. Brushing his hair back with her fingers, she studied his face with concern. His cadaverous pallor gave his chiseled features the appearance of a sculpture rather than a living, breathing man.

Jack winced in his sleep and whispered in French, "Maux. Maux tellement."

Samantha's eyes teared as she tried to comfort him, "I know darling, but try to rest. If you're sleeping you won't know how bad it hurts."

Dear God, it was unbearable seeing him this way, Sam thought. Her heart was torn into pieces as he whimpered in pain and there was nothing she could do to ease his suffering. As his agitation continued, so did Jack's fretfulness. Seeing Jack's pain, unwittingly pushed the memory of her shooting him to the front of her mind and Samantha ached to take it back. If he would only open his eyes, there were so many things she would change if he would give her the chance. Clasping his hand, she rubbed her cheek against it trying to derive some small measure of comfort.

Samantha wept as she held his hand to her face and sobbed over and over, "I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm so so sorry."

Her father stopped by to lecture her for her lack of propriety and demand that she leave, but Samantha wouldn't leave Jack. Phillippe tried to persuade her to get even an hour's rest in vain as she adamantly refused to move from Jack's side. When she refused, the valet brought her a tray of dinner which remained untouched. The fever wasn't getting worse but it wasn't getting better. Together they changed his bandages and Samantha felt discouraged when she saw the red around Jack's leg wound had spread out further marring his pale flesh.

With any luck the physician would arrive from Paris in the morning and the transfusion would help, but the infection was beginning to rage out of control. Unless the infection could be subdued rapidly, Jack would be very vulnerable to gangrene and that would mean amputating his leg. The thought of Jack being dismembered in an era without anesthetic was sickening and appalling. Samantha vowed she would end Jack's suffering herself before she would allow him to endure such a hideous ordeal.

Phillppe left Samantha alone with Jack again while he grabbed a couple hours sleep, but insisted that Mademoiselle send for him immediately if there was any change or if she needed him. Shortly after midnight, convulsions of pain wracked Jack's body and she held him trying to prevent the stitches from tearing and causing him torment as he cried out despondently for her. Sam offered words of comfort and promises of relief that sounded hollow within her ears as she spoke them. The only release that seemed likely was death.

Suddenly, Jack sat upright and grabbed her, "Est-ce que je suis mort? Est-il ce ciel?"

She struggled to find words as he pulled her tightly to him and continued to speak in a torrent of French, "Samantha, mon ange. La mort s'approche rapidement. Dieu m'accordent la pitié de la mort. Je ne peux supporter plus de torture."

"Jack, you can't die. Please you're too ill, lie back," Samantha pleaded.

"Mes battements de coeur mais pour vous. Vous êtes le sang dans des mes veines. La meilleure chose que je jamais est amour vous!" Jack declared insistantly, kissing her hands.

Samantha reached out and caressed his fevered cheek, no man had ever spoken more beautiful words of love to her before. But he was in no shape to be thrashing about so much, so she told him, "Dearest please close your eyes and rest."

He regarded her with slight confusion, in his fevered state, English had abandoned him and all Jack understood was that his Samantha was distressed with him. With a forlorn expression he whispered, "Quoique vous ne m'aimiez pas, je vous aimerai jusqu'à la fin du temps."

Samantha hastened to correct him, "Non Jack, vous avez tort. Je t'aime."

"Ne mentez pas à moi juste parce que je meurs. Je sais que vous ne pouvez pas vous tenir mon adorant," Jack let her hands go and fell back against the pillows.

Frustrated, she told him in her clipped English accent, "I am not lying to you! As to dying, you're the Jack of all Trades, you can't die."

A weak smile crossed his lips understanding his name and Jack answered, "Je braverais les feux de l'enfer juste pour sentir vos lèvres l'une fois passée."

"I meant it what I said, Jack," Samantha told him and pressed her lips to his.

For a moment he looked pleased then murmured, "Je ne vous forcerai pas à m'épouser. Nous trouverons une autre manière. Je promets."

Slowly Jack collapsed back into a restless sleep and didn't hear as Samantha whispered, "You wouldn't have had to force me to marry you Jack. I wanted you the moment I saw you. What little bit of my heart wasn't already yours on the verandah of the museum, you've captured and made yours since."

As he slept, she continued coaxing bits of ice into him. About an hour later his shivering returned with a vengeance and his skin seemed even more feverish. Samantha changed his shoulder bandage and was relieved to see that wound wasn't much worse, but her relief faded at she drew back the bandage on his leg. The flesh around the wound was still red but had become raised around it, cellulitis had set in and begun to infect deep within. Hope began to fade from Samantha, even the most untrained eye could see how serious his condition was. Reaching into the bowl for more ice, her fingers came up empty in the cool water.

Picking up the bowl, Sam looked at Jack and sighed sadly before walking to the door. She would find a servant to fetch more ice. The ice was helping at least slightly with the dehydration and seemed to calm Jack a tiny bit. At this point Samantha would do anything to make him even a little more comfortable. Opening the door, she stepped out into the corridor where a couple footman stood talking.

"I swear the cook is trying to poison us all," the older informed the younger.

"You're right, did you see that disgusting bread with the mold all over it that she tried to foist off on it. Something needs to be done," the younger man agreed.

Samantha shook her head at the petty conversation about food. Not that moldy bread sounded appetizing. Moldy bread! Suddenly an idea seized her.

"You!" Samantha exclaimed handing the bowl to the older of the two. "Fill this with ice and bring it immediately. And you, fetch all the moldy bread in the kitchen and a sharp knife and bring them to the Master's suite."

They looked at her as if she'd lost her mind, but rushed to comply. A small look of hope crossed Samantha's face as she walked back into the bedroom...

Translations

Maux. Maux tellement.- Hurts. Hurts so much.

Est-ce que je suis mort? Est-il ce ciel? - Am I dead? Is this heaven?

Samantha, mon ange. La mort s'approche rapidement. Dieu m'accordent la pitié de la mort. Je ne peux supporter plus de torture.-

Samantha, my angel. Death approaches rapidly. God grant me the mercy of death. I can endure no more torture.

Mes battements de coeur mais pour vous. Vous êtes le sang dans des mes veines. La meilleure chose que je jamais est amour vous!-

My heart beats but for you. You are the blood in my veins. The best things I ever did is love you.

Quoique vous ne m'aimiez pas, je vous aimerai jusqu'à la fin du temps.-

Even though you don't love me, I'll love you until the end of time.

Non Jack, vous avez tort. Je t'aime. - No Jack, you are wrong. I love you.

Ne mentez pas à moi juste parce que je meurs. Je sais que vous ne pouvez pas vous tenir mon adorant.-

Don't lie to me just because I'm dying. I know you can't stand my worshipping you.

Je braverais les feux de l'enfer juste pour sentir vos lèvres l'une fois passée.-

I would brave the fires of hell just to feel your lips one last time.

Je ne vous forcerai pas à m'épouser. Nous trouverons une autre manière. Je promets.-

I won't force you to marry me. We'll find another way. I promise.