“Thank ye, sir,” Alys said.
“So cold,” Jeremy whispered, the shivering intensifying.
Alys rooted in the trunk at the foot of the bed and pulled out a thick woolen blanket used during the winter months. She wrapped him in the blanket, tucking the ends beneath him to trap the heat. After a few minutes, the shaking subsided, but his breathing was still labored, his face hot yet pale.
“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said.
“For what?”
“You must be tired and hungry.”
“I’m all right,” Alys replied, suddenly realizing that no one had come to offer her any food or something to drink. They were too afraid to go near the sickroom.
Jeremy reached out from beneath the blanket and placed his hand over hers. “Please don’t leave me,” he said softly.
“I won’t. I’ll stay with ye until ye’re well again.”
“Why don’t you lie down,” Jeremy suggested. “This bed is big enough for four people, and I’m in no state to be a threat to you. You look exhausted.” She was, but to lie down next to the master was unthinkable. “Please, Alys. I want you near me.”
“All right,” she conceded. She walked around the bed until she was on the other side and lay down on the very edge, leaving several feet of mattress between them. “Try to sleep,” Alys said.
Jeremy nodded. “Not as if there’s anything else I can do. I can’t even read. My vision is blurry, and my head still aches something awful.”
Alys had fallen asleep but was woken by Jeremy’s shallow breathing. The sky was so dark, it had to be the middle of the night, the moon high as it cast a silvery pall on Jeremy. He’d thrown off the covers and was gasping for breath, his face slick with perspiration. Alys reached out and touched his arm. He was blazing, the fabric of his shirt soaked with sweat.
Jumping out of bed, Alys applied a cool compress to his brow, but that was like pissing on a raging fire. He needed to be cooled, and fast. Leaving Jeremy, Alys went in search of Master Robson. He’d help her. She found him in the library, fast asleep in a chair by the hearth, an empty cup in his slack hand.
“Master Robson, I need help,” Alys said after gently shaking the man awake.
“What is it?” he asked, jumping to his feet.
“His lordship’s fever is so high, it will burn him right up.”
“What do we do?” Master Robson asked.
“We need to fill the tub with water from the well and lower him into it.”
“But the water is ice cold,” the steward protested. “Surely the shock alone will be enough to kill him.”
“If we don’t cool him down, his heart will give out,” Alys said.
“I’ll be quick as I can,” Hal replied.
“Get Stephen to help ye,” Alys said. “I’ll get the tub ready.”
Alys returned to the sickroom and pulled the copper tub from the garderobe attached to the master’s bedchamber. The tub was heavy and unwieldy, but she managed to pull it up to the bed. Master Robson and Stephen filled the tub in record time, since the water didn’t need to be heated. Stephen hung back, terrified of catching the master’s illness, but Hal Robson didn’t seem to care, wanting only to save his friend.
“Help me,” Alys said as she pulled off the counterpane, ready to lift Jeremy and lower him into the tub. He was still wearing the shirt and breeches he’d been wearing when he first got into bed.
“We need to undress him,” Hal said. “It’ll be easier to dry him off after and get him into bed.”
“You do it,” Alys said, too embarrassed by the prospect of seeing Jeremy unclothed.
Hal peeled off Jeremy’s sweat-sodden shirt and then pulled down his breeches. Alys turned away, but not before she caught a glimpse of his manhood, nestled in a thicket of chestnut hair. “Grab his feet,” Hal said.
Alys took hold of Jeremy’s ankles, and Hal lifted him beneath the arms. Together they lowered him into the cold water. Jeremy gasped as the water rose to cover his body, but he was too weak to do more than that. He sank into the water, his head rolling to the side.
“How long do we leave him in there?” Master Robson asked.
“Until he starts to shiver violently. If ye keep watch over him, I’ll get some towels and a clean nightshirt.”
A few minutes later, they lifted a barely conscious Jeremy out of the water, which was now much warmer from the heat of his body. Alys dried him and helped him into the nightshirt. Then they put him to bed, tucking him in.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Jeremy whispered as she bent over him to smooth the wet hair away from his brow.
“I’m trying to save ye.”
“I’ll stay here with you tonight,” Master Robson said. “But first, I’m going to bring you some food. You look ready to drop.”
“Thank ye, sir. I am hungry,” Alys admitted. She sank into a chair and reached for Jeremy’s hand. It was much cooler than before, his breathing even as he fell into a deep sleep.
Having eaten the bread and cheese Master Robson had brought up and draining a cup of ale, Alys lay down on the bed and fell asleep, too tired to keep vigil.
When she woke in the morning, Master Robson was still there, sleeping in the chair, his head lolling on his chest. Jeremy woke a short time later and appeared somewhat better, so Alys went down to the kitchen to get him some breakfast.
“How is my lord this morning?” Lady Lockwood asked when she saw Alys on the stairs.
“Still fevered, my lady.”
“He refused to be treated by the physician,” Lady Lockwood said, her disgust obvious.
“Yes, my lady.”
“You must convince him to allow Dr.
