A Debutante In Disguise. Eleanor Webster

lay on the daybed, her eyes scrunched tight shut against the limited light.

      ‘I am glad you have your feet up. But keep them elevated higher than your heart.’ Letty took a pillow from an armchair opposite, placing it under Lady Beauchamp’s feet. ‘May I see your ankles?’

      Lady Beauchamp acquiesced. Gently, Letty lifted her skirts. As she had surmised, her ankles had swollen. Her feet were so distended that she had discarded her slippers.

      She let the skirt fall back with a soft swish. ‘You have headaches, you said. Blurriness of vision?’

      ‘Terrible headaches, but my vision is not impaired.’

      ‘And what treatment has Dr Jeffers recommended?’

      ‘Leeches for my headaches. Limited fluid. Rest.’

      ‘Leeches?’ Letty muttered. That treatment had gone out with the ark.

      ‘What would you suggest?’

      Letty paused. Truthfully, she knew that birth was the only ‘cure’ and Elsie was only in her seventh month. She also knew her condition to be serious, but feared that increased anxiety would aggravate her symptoms.

      ‘No leeches. Plenty of water. Rest with gentle walks when you feel able. Bland food. Meat and eggs. I will also prescribe a draught from the willow tree. We will start with the water now.’

      ‘I can have water?’ Elsie asked.

      ‘Yes.’

      Elsie smiled. ‘Then I do not care if you call this whole house a morgue. It is a morgue. In fact, it is a mausoleum to George, Edgar and Tony.’

      ‘Lord Anthony? But your brother is alive?’

      Elsie looked down. In the candlelight, Letty saw the shimmer of tears just visible under the lashes. ‘Perhaps. But he is so changed. Sometimes I hardly recognise him.’

      Again Letty had to curb that quick sharp pulse of curiosity.

      ‘Perhaps he is still adjusting to his injuries.’ She turned to the maid. ‘Do you have a jug for water?’

      The girl bobbed a curtsy and hurried from the room. The opening of the door brought a welcome draught of cooler air.

      ‘Also, this chamber is too hot. At least during this warm weather. Is there a cooler room you could spend time in?’ Letty asked.

      Elsie shrugged. ‘I suppose. The house is gargantuan.’

      The maid re-entered, handing over a glass of water. Letty gave it to Elsie, watching her relief as she took a sip.

      Then she turned back to the maid. ‘Make sure her ladyship spends time in a cooler area.’

      ‘Yes, sir. The other side of the house is usually in shadow.’

      ‘Good, make certain that she goes there and keeps her feet up. And she can drink. But not too much all at once.’

      ‘What will happen if I drink that whole jug?’ Elsie asked, with greater energy, eyeing the jug which the maid had put upon a dressing table.

      ‘I am uncertain, but I believe in moderation.’

      Elsie giggled. ‘You are an unusual man.’

      Letty stiffened. ‘How so?’

      ‘You said the word “uncertain”. So unusual for a man and a doctor,’ Elsie added with another tiny giggle.

      But it should not be unusual, Letty thought. There was so much doctors did not know—the mysteries of physiology and disease. The exact method involved in the spread of disease and how one could help the human body to withstand illness.

      ‘Doctor?’ Elsie queried.