Fic: Loyalty for Felicity, chapter 4
Jan. 26th, 2013 12:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
osprey_archerFic: Loyalty for Felicity
Fandom: American Girl - Felicity
Rating: G
This is the chapter with all the crying.
Felicity shut the door to Elizabeth’s bedroom. She leaned back against it, sliding to sit; but her knees shook so badly that halfway down she abruptly lost control and fell the rest of the way. She dropped her sweaty forehead against her knee.
She had barely slept since she and Elizabeth had arrived on the plantation, and now it was noon on their second day, and in the August heat, Elizabeth’s temperature was soaring. She had not recognized Felicity as Felicity bathed her face.
Felicity stood up. Her knees still felt weak. Oh, she was so tired. “I have to fetch my mother,” she told Dido. “She knows everything about fevers and – everything; and you can watch Elizabeth, you looked after Polly so well last summer. I’ll put my trousers back on and ride Penny.”
“I don’t think you can ride in that state, miss,” Dido said.
Dido watched over the Merriman children when they visited the plantation: Felicity was used to deferring to her judgment, or at least considering it. She considered it now, checking her pockets for a handkerchief – and then realizing that she had forgotten to tie on her pockets when she dressed that morning.
Well. Perhaps Dido was right.
“But I can’t send Mr. Jameson,” Felicity said, naming the overseer. “He’ll just get drunk in Williamsburg.”
“I reckon he will, miss,” Dido said.
“I could…” Felicity began to pace, twisting her hands together. “I could walk to the Smiths and…and ask them to send a message, and…”
“’Fraid they’re not here, miss,” Dido said. Felicity scrunched her fists and slammed a foot against the floor. “Now that’ll just wake her up.”
“Oh – !” Felicity clamped her lips together. She flapped her arms, trying to shake off some of her feelings. There must be a way to get a message to Williamsburg – there had to be a way! “Dido! If I wrote a pass, one of you could leave the plantation to run the message, right?”
Dido’s face froze for a moment: then softly she said “Yes,” and more loudly, “My boy Marcus is the fastest.”
“Good.” Felicity strode down the stairs, her new purpose strengthening her knees. Her mother would know how to save Elizabeth: her mother knew everything. She just had to get a message to her. Felicity snatched a quill from her grandfather’s inkstand. Still sharp, as if he’d just cut it before he went to Williamsburg for the last time. Tears misted her eyes. She cleared her throat, riffling through the drawers for paper. “Can he ride? That’s faster. He can take Penny.”
“No,” Dido said sharply. “You love that horse too much. I mean – I don’t think she’ll run for anyone but you, miss.”
Felicity found a clean sheet of paper. “She still doesn’t like strange men,” she admitted. “Bucephalus, then? Unless he’s been sold?”
“No, he’s still here. And Marcus can ride him.”
So Felicity sent Marcus to Williamsburg, and went back upstairs with a bowl of lavender water to bathe Elizabeth’s heated face. A scarlet rash covered her shoulders and chest, as if her pale skin had been pricked by dozens of pins.
Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open briefly. She could not quiet seem to focus. “Annabelle?” Elizabeth mumbled. “Annabelle…sorry I took…”
Felicity swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Hush little baby,” she sang. Her voice was husky at first, but it gained strength as she heard in her mind her own mother singing the words. “Don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird…”
Her mother was coming. Everything would be fine.
***
Dido knocked lightly on the doorframe, rousing Felicity from her doze at Elizabeth’s bedside. Elizabeth’s hand was hot and clammy in hers. “Miss Felicity?” Dido said. “Carriage coming.”
Felicity stumbled to her feet and went to the window. There, on the drive – she stared – it was the Coles’ carriage, carrying Mrs. Cole and Annabelle and Felicity’s mother! “But that’s not possible,” Felicity gasped. “We only sent Marcus at noon!”
Dido shrugged. Felicity hurried past her, taking the stairs two at a time and flying out the front door. She stood on the drive, straight-backed and proud as the carriage pulled up.
Usually, Mrs. Cole descended from carriages with the beatific grace of an angel. Today, however, she burst out of the carriage and strode toward Felicity so fiercely that it took all of Felicity’s strength not to step back. “Where is my daughter?” Mrs. Cole demanded.
“She’s inside, she – ”
“Inside! Tell her to come out at once!”
“She – ”
Mrs. Cole was pale with fury. “I always thought you had a good heart under your rough colonial ways, but now I see Annabelle was right that I should have kept Elizabeth away from you. How dare you convince her to run away with you? How dare you keep her away from me? Bring her out at once!”
“She has scarlet fever!” Felicity shouted. “Dido’s looking after her upstairs.”
Silence. Mrs. Cole’s rage-pale face whitened further. She caught up her skirts and hurried into the house. Annabelle followed. She didn’t even look at Felicity.
But Felicity wasn’t looking at Annabelle anyway, because her attention was riveted on her mother, who had gotten out of the carriage. She did not come toward Felicity, but stood beside the carriage, and Felicity was suddenly struck by the unreasoning fear that her mother would get back inside the carriage and sweep away.
“Mother,” Felicity cried.
Mrs. Merriman stared at Felicity, and Felicity felt small beneath her gaze. Even when Felicity had stolen Penny from Jiggy Nye, her mother had not looked so ashamed of her.
“Why?” Mrs. Merriman asked. “Why did you convince Elizabeth to run away with you, Lissie?”
The injustice of the accusation shocked Felicity. It was Elizabeth who had suggested running away! “I – !” she began, and caught herself. Of course they believed it had been Felicity’s idea: sensible Elizabeth would never do anything so rash. Sensible Elizabeth! Why hadn’t Felicity realized that she must be ill, even to suggest such a foolish scheme?
And of course Felicity couldn’t tell them. It would be dishonorable to tell when Elizabeth was too sick to defend herself; and no one would believe Felicity, anyway.
Her mother was still looking at her, searching Felicity’s face for an answer. “I don’t know,” Felicity whispered. She said again, louder, “I don’t know, Mother. I’m sorry. I…”
“And now Elizabeth has a fever?” her mother said.
A knot swelled in Felicity’s throat. She nodded. Without another word, Mrs. Merriman went into the house. Felicity closed her eyes, swaying with tiredness. Her eyes burned. She took a deep breath, and followed her mother inside.
***
They would not let Felicity back into Elizabeth’s sickroom. “The Coles don’t want to see you right now,” Mrs. Merriman said. “Can you see why, Felicity?”
“Yes,” Felicity said, although she felt that if she weren’t let into Elizabeth’s sickroom, she would die. What if Elizabeth – ?
No! Elizabeth would be fine.
Maybe Mrs. Merriman saw the struggle in Felicity’s face, because for the first time, her face gentled. “Go rest,” she told Felicity gently. “How long have you been awake?”
But Felicity could not rest. She waited in the little parlor down stairs, trying to sit on the sofa below the window; but she kept springing up to pace. The sky turned scarlet, deepening to purple, then blue, and then black, lit by a moon behind shreds of cloud, then and fair as bleached flax.
How was Elizabeth? Earlier, it had been easy enough to push aside the fear the Elizabeth might die. But as she paced in the moonlight, her shadow black beneath her feet, the fear clogged Felicity’s throat. How was Elizabeth? Had her fever gone down? Elizabeth was strong. Of course she would be fine. Of course.
She had to be.
Oh, why did no one come tell Felicity what was happening?
Suddenly Felicity could not stand it anymore. She left the little parlor, catching herself just before she slammed the door shut behind her. The noise would alert Mrs. Merriman and the Coles that she was coming. Quiet, quiet…
The stairs creaked in the middle, she remembered. She lined her feet up along the sides, taking each step slowly, holding her breath.
Top of the stairs. Elizabeth’s room was just down the hall. Felicity crept down it, quiet as a cat, and stopped outside the door.
For a long time, there was silence. A cough: Annabelle. Soft murmurs.
Oh! Felicity nearly shouted with vexation. She couldn’t hear anything through the thick oak doors: her grandfather had built them strong, as he built everything, and of course they were talking softly, softly, so as not to disturb Elizabeth.
The sound of a nose blowing. Felicity leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. When had she last slept? The dark hall, the muffled
Suddenly the door opened, spilling a swath of lantern light across the hall. Before Felicity could move away, Annabelle stepped out. Her nose was red, her eyes red-rimmed, and her carefully composed hair falling out from under its cap. Felicity just had time to think,So she does love Elizabeth, after all before Annabelle noticed her.
Annabelle stopped, staring at Felicity in shock. Felicity thought with horror that Annabelle would go back and tell Mrs. Cole that Felicity was creeping around outside Elizabeth’s door. But instead Annabelle shut the door firmly behind her and grabbed Felicity’s arm, propelling her back along the hallway and down the stairs. Her fingers bit into the Felicity’s skin.
They went through the little parlor, out the back door into the flower garden, and there at last Annabelle stopped. “This is all your fault,” she cried. “If you hadn’t convinced Bitsy to run away, then she’d be safe and well right now, instead of dying!”
Dying.
“She’d never have done or even imagined doing something like this, before you corrupted her with your rough colonial ways. Bitsy used – ”
“Don’t call her Bitsy!” Felicity cried. She wrenched away from Annabelle’s hand and fled.
Her tears overcame her in the forest, not far from where she had found Ben when he ran away to try to join the army. She stumbled to his old hiding place and cast herself down. Annabelle was right – oh, not that Felicity had convinced Elizabeth to run away; but Elizabeth would never have done so if Felicity hadn’t seized on the idea so readily! Why hadn’t Felicity talked her out of it, as she had talked Ben out of running away?
She did not know how long she cried there before her mother’s voice called her back to herself. “Felicity?” Mrs. Merriman said, and Felicity looked up to see her mother sitting on a log beside her.
Felicity was sobbing too hard to answer. Mrs. Merriman sat quietly, her hands folded in the lap of her dress. She made no move to comfort Felicity – and rightly so, Felicity thought, trying to bite back her sobs. Felicity had as good as killed her best friend through her own willfulness: what possible comfort could there be for that?
But Felicity’s wild sobs eventually slowed, and she became aware of the warm pressure of her mother’s hand on her shoulder. “Felicity, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Merriman asked.
Felicity could not tell her what Annabelle said. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself enough to speak, and finally squeaked, “Is Elizabeth going to die?”
“I can’t hear you,” Mrs. Merriman said.
Felicity tried to speak again, but only another sob came out. Mrs. Merriman offered her a handkerchief. Felicity blew her tear-clogged nose. Mrs. Merriman offered Felicity her hand. Felicity took it, and rose shakily to her feet.
They walked through the forest together, back toward the plantation. The night was warm. They passed the slave cabins, dark and silent; the tobacco fields, and the herb garden, and the flower garden right by the house. The hollyhocks wavered in a soft breeze.
Felicity stopped at the threshold. It took three tries for her to get the words out. “Is Elizabeth going to die?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Mrs. Merriman said. She took Felicity’s hand in both of hers. “If her fever breaks tonight, she’ll recover.”
“If not?” Felicity asked hoarsely.
“Don’t borrow trouble till we come to it, Lissie.”
Felicity nodded, trying to feel her mother’s gentle stoic acceptance. But despite herself, tears started again. “It’s all my fault,” she whispered. “I never should have agreed to – suggested we run away. If Elizabeth dies its all my fault.”
“Listen to me,” her mother said. She took Felicity’s hands in hers. “You and Elizabeth behaved very, very foolishly. But – ” She lifted a hand to Felicity’s cheek. “Elizabeth was probably already sickening when you ran away. She never would have agreed to such a thing if her mind wasn’t confused.”
“But that’s why I should have stopped us, don’t you see, I should have – ”
Mrs. Merriman raised a hand. Felicity fell silent. “Do you know how quickly disease spreads on shipboard?” Mrs. Merriman said. “It rushes through it like a fire. If Elizabeth had gotten on ship as planned, who knows how many people would now be sickening, even dead?”
“But she might not be so sick at all if we hadn’t gone riding through the night air,” Felicity said. “She might – ”
“Felicity,” her mother said, and took Felicity’s face between her hands. “Don’t torture yourself like this.”
Felicity started down at her hands, twisting the used handkerchief around her fingers. She tried to feel comforted, but it was hard to care about ship passengers she’d never met, when Elizabeth might be dying.
“I can’t help it,” Felicity said. Her voice cracked.
Mrs. Merriman kissed her forehead. “Try to get some sleep,” she said.
“I can’t,” Felicity said.
Mrs. Merriman pulled her over the threshold, settling her on the sofa beneath the window. “Try,” Mrs. Merriman said.
It seemed impossible that she could ever sleep again. But somehow – perhaps she had simply cried herself to exhaustion – when her mother left her in the soft darkness, Felicity did fall asleep.
***
Felicity woke late, late enough that sunlight streamed through the north-facing window. She did not realize at first what had woken her, but then she saw Mrs. Cole in the doorway. She looked a mess, her rich gown crumpled, and her hair, rather than swept up with its usual elegance, fell untidily around her face.
Felicity stumbled to her feet. Her neck ached from sleeping on the sofa and one of her arms had fallen asleep. “Please, Mrs. Cole,” she cried, light-headed with tiredness and fear. “How is she?”
Mrs. Cole looked at Felicity, and for a moment her blank gaze and haggard face terrified Felicity. If Mrs. Cole looked so exhausted and awful, then Elizabeth must be –
But then Mrs. Cole seemed to focus on her, and her tired face relaxed. “The fever has broken,” Mrs. Cole said. “Praise be.”
Fandom: American Girl - Felicity
Rating: G
This is the chapter with all the crying.
Felicity shut the door to Elizabeth’s bedroom. She leaned back against it, sliding to sit; but her knees shook so badly that halfway down she abruptly lost control and fell the rest of the way. She dropped her sweaty forehead against her knee.
She had barely slept since she and Elizabeth had arrived on the plantation, and now it was noon on their second day, and in the August heat, Elizabeth’s temperature was soaring. She had not recognized Felicity as Felicity bathed her face.
Felicity stood up. Her knees still felt weak. Oh, she was so tired. “I have to fetch my mother,” she told Dido. “She knows everything about fevers and – everything; and you can watch Elizabeth, you looked after Polly so well last summer. I’ll put my trousers back on and ride Penny.”
“I don’t think you can ride in that state, miss,” Dido said.
Dido watched over the Merriman children when they visited the plantation: Felicity was used to deferring to her judgment, or at least considering it. She considered it now, checking her pockets for a handkerchief – and then realizing that she had forgotten to tie on her pockets when she dressed that morning.
Well. Perhaps Dido was right.
“But I can’t send Mr. Jameson,” Felicity said, naming the overseer. “He’ll just get drunk in Williamsburg.”
“I reckon he will, miss,” Dido said.
“I could…” Felicity began to pace, twisting her hands together. “I could walk to the Smiths and…and ask them to send a message, and…”
“’Fraid they’re not here, miss,” Dido said. Felicity scrunched her fists and slammed a foot against the floor. “Now that’ll just wake her up.”
“Oh – !” Felicity clamped her lips together. She flapped her arms, trying to shake off some of her feelings. There must be a way to get a message to Williamsburg – there had to be a way! “Dido! If I wrote a pass, one of you could leave the plantation to run the message, right?”
Dido’s face froze for a moment: then softly she said “Yes,” and more loudly, “My boy Marcus is the fastest.”
“Good.” Felicity strode down the stairs, her new purpose strengthening her knees. Her mother would know how to save Elizabeth: her mother knew everything. She just had to get a message to her. Felicity snatched a quill from her grandfather’s inkstand. Still sharp, as if he’d just cut it before he went to Williamsburg for the last time. Tears misted her eyes. She cleared her throat, riffling through the drawers for paper. “Can he ride? That’s faster. He can take Penny.”
“No,” Dido said sharply. “You love that horse too much. I mean – I don’t think she’ll run for anyone but you, miss.”
Felicity found a clean sheet of paper. “She still doesn’t like strange men,” she admitted. “Bucephalus, then? Unless he’s been sold?”
“No, he’s still here. And Marcus can ride him.”
So Felicity sent Marcus to Williamsburg, and went back upstairs with a bowl of lavender water to bathe Elizabeth’s heated face. A scarlet rash covered her shoulders and chest, as if her pale skin had been pricked by dozens of pins.
Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open briefly. She could not quiet seem to focus. “Annabelle?” Elizabeth mumbled. “Annabelle…sorry I took…”
Felicity swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Hush little baby,” she sang. Her voice was husky at first, but it gained strength as she heard in her mind her own mother singing the words. “Don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird…”
Her mother was coming. Everything would be fine.
***
Dido knocked lightly on the doorframe, rousing Felicity from her doze at Elizabeth’s bedside. Elizabeth’s hand was hot and clammy in hers. “Miss Felicity?” Dido said. “Carriage coming.”
Felicity stumbled to her feet and went to the window. There, on the drive – she stared – it was the Coles’ carriage, carrying Mrs. Cole and Annabelle and Felicity’s mother! “But that’s not possible,” Felicity gasped. “We only sent Marcus at noon!”
Dido shrugged. Felicity hurried past her, taking the stairs two at a time and flying out the front door. She stood on the drive, straight-backed and proud as the carriage pulled up.
Usually, Mrs. Cole descended from carriages with the beatific grace of an angel. Today, however, she burst out of the carriage and strode toward Felicity so fiercely that it took all of Felicity’s strength not to step back. “Where is my daughter?” Mrs. Cole demanded.
“She’s inside, she – ”
“Inside! Tell her to come out at once!”
“She – ”
Mrs. Cole was pale with fury. “I always thought you had a good heart under your rough colonial ways, but now I see Annabelle was right that I should have kept Elizabeth away from you. How dare you convince her to run away with you? How dare you keep her away from me? Bring her out at once!”
“She has scarlet fever!” Felicity shouted. “Dido’s looking after her upstairs.”
Silence. Mrs. Cole’s rage-pale face whitened further. She caught up her skirts and hurried into the house. Annabelle followed. She didn’t even look at Felicity.
But Felicity wasn’t looking at Annabelle anyway, because her attention was riveted on her mother, who had gotten out of the carriage. She did not come toward Felicity, but stood beside the carriage, and Felicity was suddenly struck by the unreasoning fear that her mother would get back inside the carriage and sweep away.
“Mother,” Felicity cried.
Mrs. Merriman stared at Felicity, and Felicity felt small beneath her gaze. Even when Felicity had stolen Penny from Jiggy Nye, her mother had not looked so ashamed of her.
“Why?” Mrs. Merriman asked. “Why did you convince Elizabeth to run away with you, Lissie?”
The injustice of the accusation shocked Felicity. It was Elizabeth who had suggested running away! “I – !” she began, and caught herself. Of course they believed it had been Felicity’s idea: sensible Elizabeth would never do anything so rash. Sensible Elizabeth! Why hadn’t Felicity realized that she must be ill, even to suggest such a foolish scheme?
And of course Felicity couldn’t tell them. It would be dishonorable to tell when Elizabeth was too sick to defend herself; and no one would believe Felicity, anyway.
Her mother was still looking at her, searching Felicity’s face for an answer. “I don’t know,” Felicity whispered. She said again, louder, “I don’t know, Mother. I’m sorry. I…”
“And now Elizabeth has a fever?” her mother said.
A knot swelled in Felicity’s throat. She nodded. Without another word, Mrs. Merriman went into the house. Felicity closed her eyes, swaying with tiredness. Her eyes burned. She took a deep breath, and followed her mother inside.
***
They would not let Felicity back into Elizabeth’s sickroom. “The Coles don’t want to see you right now,” Mrs. Merriman said. “Can you see why, Felicity?”
“Yes,” Felicity said, although she felt that if she weren’t let into Elizabeth’s sickroom, she would die. What if Elizabeth – ?
No! Elizabeth would be fine.
Maybe Mrs. Merriman saw the struggle in Felicity’s face, because for the first time, her face gentled. “Go rest,” she told Felicity gently. “How long have you been awake?”
But Felicity could not rest. She waited in the little parlor down stairs, trying to sit on the sofa below the window; but she kept springing up to pace. The sky turned scarlet, deepening to purple, then blue, and then black, lit by a moon behind shreds of cloud, then and fair as bleached flax.
How was Elizabeth? Earlier, it had been easy enough to push aside the fear the Elizabeth might die. But as she paced in the moonlight, her shadow black beneath her feet, the fear clogged Felicity’s throat. How was Elizabeth? Had her fever gone down? Elizabeth was strong. Of course she would be fine. Of course.
She had to be.
Oh, why did no one come tell Felicity what was happening?
Suddenly Felicity could not stand it anymore. She left the little parlor, catching herself just before she slammed the door shut behind her. The noise would alert Mrs. Merriman and the Coles that she was coming. Quiet, quiet…
The stairs creaked in the middle, she remembered. She lined her feet up along the sides, taking each step slowly, holding her breath.
Top of the stairs. Elizabeth’s room was just down the hall. Felicity crept down it, quiet as a cat, and stopped outside the door.
For a long time, there was silence. A cough: Annabelle. Soft murmurs.
Oh! Felicity nearly shouted with vexation. She couldn’t hear anything through the thick oak doors: her grandfather had built them strong, as he built everything, and of course they were talking softly, softly, so as not to disturb Elizabeth.
The sound of a nose blowing. Felicity leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. When had she last slept? The dark hall, the muffled
Suddenly the door opened, spilling a swath of lantern light across the hall. Before Felicity could move away, Annabelle stepped out. Her nose was red, her eyes red-rimmed, and her carefully composed hair falling out from under its cap. Felicity just had time to think,So she does love Elizabeth, after all before Annabelle noticed her.
Annabelle stopped, staring at Felicity in shock. Felicity thought with horror that Annabelle would go back and tell Mrs. Cole that Felicity was creeping around outside Elizabeth’s door. But instead Annabelle shut the door firmly behind her and grabbed Felicity’s arm, propelling her back along the hallway and down the stairs. Her fingers bit into the Felicity’s skin.
They went through the little parlor, out the back door into the flower garden, and there at last Annabelle stopped. “This is all your fault,” she cried. “If you hadn’t convinced Bitsy to run away, then she’d be safe and well right now, instead of dying!”
Dying.
“She’d never have done or even imagined doing something like this, before you corrupted her with your rough colonial ways. Bitsy used – ”
“Don’t call her Bitsy!” Felicity cried. She wrenched away from Annabelle’s hand and fled.
Her tears overcame her in the forest, not far from where she had found Ben when he ran away to try to join the army. She stumbled to his old hiding place and cast herself down. Annabelle was right – oh, not that Felicity had convinced Elizabeth to run away; but Elizabeth would never have done so if Felicity hadn’t seized on the idea so readily! Why hadn’t Felicity talked her out of it, as she had talked Ben out of running away?
She did not know how long she cried there before her mother’s voice called her back to herself. “Felicity?” Mrs. Merriman said, and Felicity looked up to see her mother sitting on a log beside her.
Felicity was sobbing too hard to answer. Mrs. Merriman sat quietly, her hands folded in the lap of her dress. She made no move to comfort Felicity – and rightly so, Felicity thought, trying to bite back her sobs. Felicity had as good as killed her best friend through her own willfulness: what possible comfort could there be for that?
But Felicity’s wild sobs eventually slowed, and she became aware of the warm pressure of her mother’s hand on her shoulder. “Felicity, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Merriman asked.
Felicity could not tell her what Annabelle said. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself enough to speak, and finally squeaked, “Is Elizabeth going to die?”
“I can’t hear you,” Mrs. Merriman said.
Felicity tried to speak again, but only another sob came out. Mrs. Merriman offered her a handkerchief. Felicity blew her tear-clogged nose. Mrs. Merriman offered Felicity her hand. Felicity took it, and rose shakily to her feet.
They walked through the forest together, back toward the plantation. The night was warm. They passed the slave cabins, dark and silent; the tobacco fields, and the herb garden, and the flower garden right by the house. The hollyhocks wavered in a soft breeze.
Felicity stopped at the threshold. It took three tries for her to get the words out. “Is Elizabeth going to die?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Mrs. Merriman said. She took Felicity’s hand in both of hers. “If her fever breaks tonight, she’ll recover.”
“If not?” Felicity asked hoarsely.
“Don’t borrow trouble till we come to it, Lissie.”
Felicity nodded, trying to feel her mother’s gentle stoic acceptance. But despite herself, tears started again. “It’s all my fault,” she whispered. “I never should have agreed to – suggested we run away. If Elizabeth dies its all my fault.”
“Listen to me,” her mother said. She took Felicity’s hands in hers. “You and Elizabeth behaved very, very foolishly. But – ” She lifted a hand to Felicity’s cheek. “Elizabeth was probably already sickening when you ran away. She never would have agreed to such a thing if her mind wasn’t confused.”
“But that’s why I should have stopped us, don’t you see, I should have – ”
Mrs. Merriman raised a hand. Felicity fell silent. “Do you know how quickly disease spreads on shipboard?” Mrs. Merriman said. “It rushes through it like a fire. If Elizabeth had gotten on ship as planned, who knows how many people would now be sickening, even dead?”
“But she might not be so sick at all if we hadn’t gone riding through the night air,” Felicity said. “She might – ”
“Felicity,” her mother said, and took Felicity’s face between her hands. “Don’t torture yourself like this.”
Felicity started down at her hands, twisting the used handkerchief around her fingers. She tried to feel comforted, but it was hard to care about ship passengers she’d never met, when Elizabeth might be dying.
“I can’t help it,” Felicity said. Her voice cracked.
Mrs. Merriman kissed her forehead. “Try to get some sleep,” she said.
“I can’t,” Felicity said.
Mrs. Merriman pulled her over the threshold, settling her on the sofa beneath the window. “Try,” Mrs. Merriman said.
It seemed impossible that she could ever sleep again. But somehow – perhaps she had simply cried herself to exhaustion – when her mother left her in the soft darkness, Felicity did fall asleep.
***
Felicity woke late, late enough that sunlight streamed through the north-facing window. She did not realize at first what had woken her, but then she saw Mrs. Cole in the doorway. She looked a mess, her rich gown crumpled, and her hair, rather than swept up with its usual elegance, fell untidily around her face.
Felicity stumbled to her feet. Her neck ached from sleeping on the sofa and one of her arms had fallen asleep. “Please, Mrs. Cole,” she cried, light-headed with tiredness and fear. “How is she?”
Mrs. Cole looked at Felicity, and for a moment her blank gaze and haggard face terrified Felicity. If Mrs. Cole looked so exhausted and awful, then Elizabeth must be –
But then Mrs. Cole seemed to focus on her, and her tired face relaxed. “The fever has broken,” Mrs. Cole said. “Praise be.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2013-01-27 01:36 pm (UTC)It's an interesting point that Mrs. Merriman brings up about how fast scarlet fever spreads on board a ship--I found it comforting on Felicity's behalf, even though Felicity was still (understandably) too anxious for Elizabeth.
no subject
Date: 2013-01-27 03:41 pm (UTC)I had trouble figuring out what Mrs. Merriman could say to comfort Felicity. What is there to say when her best friend might be dying, and it's partly her fault? But presumably if Elizabeth had died, Felicity might eventually find the thought that they had saved others comforting.
no subject
Date: 2013-01-27 05:28 pm (UTC)And oh, Felicity taking the blame for the whole escapade. :-(
no subject
Date: 2013-01-27 10:03 pm (UTC)I think Dido has a more realistic idea than Felicity how much good outside help would do at this point: Felicity thinks her mother could make it all better, but that's really more of a self-comforting delusion than a reflection of reality.