William Monk 06 - Cain His Brother

to spend the necessary time here. She can bring her children with her, and they can be cared for by the staff. That will serve very well. It will benefit her for the time being, and she will know she is of service, and not feel obliged. She is a very proud woman.”
    “Genevieve?” It did not really matter who he was referring to, but she would like to know.
    “A relative,” he replied coldly. “By marriage. An agreeable young woman who is presently in a difficult circumstance. It is an excellent solution. I shall attend to it.”
    And so it was that by that evening Hester was established in Ravensbrook House, with the promised cot in the dressing room, and changes of clothes from Dingle which fitted adequately.
    Enid was extremely ill. Her entire body ached so severely it was painful to the touch. She was running so high a fever she seemed unsure of where she was and did not recognize Hester even when she spoke to her gently, held a cool cloth on her brow and called her by name. She was perpetually thirsty, and so weak she could not sit up sufficiently to drink without assistance, but she did manage to keep on her stomach the boiled water mixed with honey and salt which Hester gave her. From her face it wasobvious that the taste of it was most unpleasant, but Hester knew from experience that plain water did not give the body some element it needed, and so she insisted in spite of Enid’s whispered protest.
    At about half past nine in the evening there was a knock on the bedroom door, and when she went to open it, she found on the threshold a woman perhaps a year or two older than herself but with a face she knew to be far prettier than her own, with a frank and earthy openness to it which she could not but like.
    “Yes?” she inquired. The woman was plainly dressed, but both the cut and fabric were excellent, and the style was more flattering than any servant would be permitted. She knew before she spoke that this must be the relative Lord Ravensbrook had promised.
    “I’m Genevieve Stonefield,” the woman introduced herself. “I’ve come to help you nurse Aunt Enid. I hear she is dreadfully ill.”
    Hester opened the doors wider. “Yes, I’m afraid she is. I’m very grateful you have come, Mrs.—Stonefield, did you say?” The name was familiar, but for the moment she could not place it.
    “Yes.” She came in through the door nervously, almost immediately glancing across to the big bed where Enid lay, white-faced, her hair wet and straggling over her brow. The room was lit only by the gas bracket on the farther wall, hissing gently, casting long shadows from the bedside chair and the jug on the table. “What can I do to help?” she asked. “I—I’ve never nursed anyone before, except my own children, and that was only for colds and chills—nothing like this. Robert once had tonsillitis, but that is hardly the same.”
    Hester could see that she was profoundly afraid, and she could not blame her. Only experience made it tolerable for her. She could well remember her first night in the wards in Scutari. She had felt so inadequate, so aware of each moan or rustle of movement. The minutes had dragged byas if daylight would never come. The next night had been even worse, because she had known in advance how long and desperate it would be. If she could have run away, she would have. Only pity for the men and shame for herself kept her there.
    “There is nothing you can give her that will help, except the water from that jug.” Hester closed the door and indicated the small blue china jug on the side table. “The other is just clear water for the cloths to keep her as cool as you can. Wash her brow and hands and neck as often as you please. Every ten minutes, if it seems it may help. She has not vomited since the very beginning, but if she should seem distressed in that way, be prepared for it. There is a dish over there.” Again she pointed.
    “Thank you,” Genevieve said huskily. She looked alarmed. “You’re not going just yet, are you?”
    “No,” Hester assured her. “And when I do, I will simply be in the next room to sleep for a few hours.” She indicated the dressing room door. “I can’t remember when I last lay down, but it seems like the day before yesterday, although I don’t suppose it can be.”
    “I didn’t know she had been ill so long!” Genevieve was aghast. “Why did Lord Ravensbrook not send for me before?”
    “Oh no, she was only taken ill today. We have