Supervising Sally by Marina Oliver Page B

in no fit state for arguments or decisions; you need to be in bed and not having to worry about anything.’
    She rose to her feet and glanced at the earl.
    â€˜My lord, can you carry her ladyship up to her room?’
    About to suggest it might be better to call two of the servants, he encountered Phoebe’s look of doubtful enquiry, and stepped forward to scoop his sister into his arms, ignoring her protests that she was quite capable of walking.
    â€˜Nevertheless I mean to carry you. Beatrice, I hadn’t realized you were so ill. You should have stayed in bed today.’
    Phoebe had squeezed past him and when he arrived in his sister’s bedroom she had the covers turned back, Annie was busy with a warming pan, and Beatrice’s maid was warming a nightdress in front of a cheerful fire.
    â€˜Thank you, my lord, you can leave her to us now,’ Phoebe said briskly, and the earl, somewhat to his surprise, found himself pushed out of the bedroom and the door closed with a snap behind him.

    Lady Beatrice grew worse during the next few days, and Phoebe spent most of her time nursing her. The doctor forbade visitors, and Lady Drayton tried to insist that Phoebe and Sally kept away from her, for fear of infection. Phoebe ignored these commands.
    â€˜I looked after my mother through far worse,’ she said. ‘Your maid cannot do it all by herself, and you refuse to hire a nurse.’
    â€˜I much prefer familiar faces around me when I am feeling
ill,’ Beatrice said. ‘I already feel better with your care. What is Sally doing? How is she occupying herself?’
    Phoebe laughed. ‘Your brother takes her out driving or riding sometimes, and she and Annie appear to spend every morning shopping. She has discovered a source of cheap muslin and ribbons, and has had to buy another trunk to accommodate all her recent purchases.’
    â€˜As soon as I am a little better you must set off for Brussels. I expect Zachary is fretting to be there.’
    â€˜He says he still has work to do in London,’ Phoebe told her, wondering if it was true, or if the earl was attempting to find some more suitable chaperon in her place. He had said no more to her, and Sally reported that the subject was never raised when she went out with him.
    A few days later Lady Drayton was sufficiently improved to sit out of bed for a few hours each morning. Phoebe was helping her to settle, wrapping shawls round her shoulders and a rug over her knees, placing cordial and a book on a table beside her, and a firescreen to keep the heat of the fire from her face, when there was a frantic hammering on the door of her bedroom.
    The maid had gone downstairs to fetch a hot tisane, so with a murmured excuse Phoebe went to open the door. Annie stood outside and, seeing how agitated she was, Phoebe stepped out into the corridor and closed the door behind her.
    â€˜Annie, what in the world is it? Is Miss Sally ill?’
    Annie shook her head, tried to speak, and then with trembling hands held out a folded sheet of paper.
    â€˜It’s for her ladyship,’ she whispered, ‘but I don’t rightly know what to do with it, when her ladyship’s not well. It might be upsetting if it’s what I think that little madam’s been and done.’
    Phoebe took it from her, broke the wafer sealing it, and began to read.

    Dear Aunt Beatrice
    I’m sorry, but I can’t go to Brussels. I know Mama arranged it because she doesn’t want to have to concern herself with me and my come out, and she is hoping I will find someone there to marry, so that she doesn’t have to give me a Season.
    It would all be a waste of time, as I have already chosen the man I want to marry. I know you and everyone else will despise him, say I am marrying beneath me, but I don’t care a scrap for that. I love George, and by the time you receive this letter we will be on our way to Scotland. Ready for when we come back,