housekeeper, "and I think she was coming down with something even last night. I didn't realize she was ill until we were back on the train this morning."
"Her skin is so warm." The older woman's voice was compassionate. "Has she been sick to her stomach?"
"I don't think so. Will you be able to keep things quiet today?"
"Yes, sir. I'll let everyone know and open her door again so I can hear her if she needs something."
"Thank you. Don't hesitate to come for me if
I can help."
"Certainly, sir."
The two were standing in the wide, room-size landing at the top of the stairs. Their voices remained hushed, although Rusty's door was closed. They parted soon after that, Chase to his office to work on his mail, and Mrs. Whitley taking the next level of stairs to the staff bedrooms in an upper wing in an effort to warn all servants that they must be quiet. Briarly was a huge home, but if she had to walk every inch of it to ensure quiet, that was just what she would do.
***
Rusty slept all day. Mrs. Whitley came and went, but Rusty heard none of it. It was after 4:00 when she woke, finally warm, and remembered where she was. Her head still hurt, but she thought the worst of it might be over.
/ can't remember when I've ever had such a headache, she thought to herself, but then realized it hurt to think too much. She was lying comfortably, thinking she might drop off again, when Mrs. Whitley came in.
"You're awake," the older lady said softly. "How are you feeling?"
"Still rather weak, I'm afraid."
Mrs. Whitley smiled and moved to the table next to Rusty's bed. "I brought you some tea about 20 minutes ago. The pot is still quite hot. Would you like some?"
"I am thirsty."
Mrs. Whitley went right to work, pouring and adding sugar and a dash of warm milk. "We'll have you fixed up in no time," she said before passing a cup of tea to Rusty and making sure she could manage it.
It was warm and sweet, and Rusty's sigh was heartfelt. "Thank you. I'm embarrassed to tell you that I don't remember your name. "
"Of course you don't, dear. I'm Mrs. Whitley, and Mr. McCandles tells me you're Miss Taggart."
"Everyone calls me Rusty."
The housekeeper beamed. "Because of your hair. It's really quite lovely, you know."
Rusty smiled kindly, but she was already growing tired again.
"Now, how about some food, Miss Taggart? Can I tempt you?"
"I don't think I can manage it, Mrs. Whitley, but thank you. "
Mrs. "Whitley took the cup from Rusty's hand as she reached to put it back down. She had only drunk about half of it. One look at Rusty's face told her that she was fading again. Mr. Mc-Candles had asked to be summoned when Rusty was awake, but by the time she gained his office and he came upstairs, their guest would be sleeping again, so she didn't even try. And she was right. Rusty was asleep just minutes later, and this time she slept the remainder of the day and the entire night.
----
12
Rusty woke slowly, her body a little achy, but within moments she knew the headache was gone. She stretched a little, but even that was an effort. She felt as lethargic as a spoiled cat, but then she spotted him, and some of the sluggishness disappeared. Rusty looked over at her open door to see a little boy. She pushed herself higher against her pillow to see him more clearly.
Small and on the thin side, he regarded her seriously with his dark eyes. His hair was dark and straight. He was wearing knee pants with suspenders and a long-sleeved shirt. Rusty guessed him to be about five years old. She also had the impression that he would run if she spoke to him, but she had to try.
"Good morning," she said softly.
He stared at her. Rusty pushed a little higher onto her pillow, bringing her covers up for warmth.
"Would you like to come in?"
With that he ran. Rusty put a hand over her mouth to cover her laugh. His eyes had gotten so huge, one would have thought she had suggested he write on the wall. Rusty lay thinking about him for a moment. It wasn't
"Her skin is so warm." The older woman's voice was compassionate. "Has she been sick to her stomach?"
"I don't think so. Will you be able to keep things quiet today?"
"Yes, sir. I'll let everyone know and open her door again so I can hear her if she needs something."
"Thank you. Don't hesitate to come for me if
I can help."
"Certainly, sir."
The two were standing in the wide, room-size landing at the top of the stairs. Their voices remained hushed, although Rusty's door was closed. They parted soon after that, Chase to his office to work on his mail, and Mrs. Whitley taking the next level of stairs to the staff bedrooms in an upper wing in an effort to warn all servants that they must be quiet. Briarly was a huge home, but if she had to walk every inch of it to ensure quiet, that was just what she would do.
***
Rusty slept all day. Mrs. Whitley came and went, but Rusty heard none of it. It was after 4:00 when she woke, finally warm, and remembered where she was. Her head still hurt, but she thought the worst of it might be over.
/ can't remember when I've ever had such a headache, she thought to herself, but then realized it hurt to think too much. She was lying comfortably, thinking she might drop off again, when Mrs. Whitley came in.
"You're awake," the older lady said softly. "How are you feeling?"
"Still rather weak, I'm afraid."
Mrs. Whitley smiled and moved to the table next to Rusty's bed. "I brought you some tea about 20 minutes ago. The pot is still quite hot. Would you like some?"
"I am thirsty."
Mrs. Whitley went right to work, pouring and adding sugar and a dash of warm milk. "We'll have you fixed up in no time," she said before passing a cup of tea to Rusty and making sure she could manage it.
It was warm and sweet, and Rusty's sigh was heartfelt. "Thank you. I'm embarrassed to tell you that I don't remember your name. "
"Of course you don't, dear. I'm Mrs. Whitley, and Mr. McCandles tells me you're Miss Taggart."
"Everyone calls me Rusty."
The housekeeper beamed. "Because of your hair. It's really quite lovely, you know."
Rusty smiled kindly, but she was already growing tired again.
"Now, how about some food, Miss Taggart? Can I tempt you?"
"I don't think I can manage it, Mrs. Whitley, but thank you. "
Mrs. "Whitley took the cup from Rusty's hand as she reached to put it back down. She had only drunk about half of it. One look at Rusty's face told her that she was fading again. Mr. Mc-Candles had asked to be summoned when Rusty was awake, but by the time she gained his office and he came upstairs, their guest would be sleeping again, so she didn't even try. And she was right. Rusty was asleep just minutes later, and this time she slept the remainder of the day and the entire night.
----
12
Rusty woke slowly, her body a little achy, but within moments she knew the headache was gone. She stretched a little, but even that was an effort. She felt as lethargic as a spoiled cat, but then she spotted him, and some of the sluggishness disappeared. Rusty looked over at her open door to see a little boy. She pushed herself higher against her pillow to see him more clearly.
Small and on the thin side, he regarded her seriously with his dark eyes. His hair was dark and straight. He was wearing knee pants with suspenders and a long-sleeved shirt. Rusty guessed him to be about five years old. She also had the impression that he would run if she spoke to him, but she had to try.
"Good morning," she said softly.
He stared at her. Rusty pushed a little higher onto her pillow, bringing her covers up for warmth.
"Would you like to come in?"
With that he ran. Rusty put a hand over her mouth to cover her laugh. His eyes had gotten so huge, one would have thought she had suggested he write on the wall. Rusty lay thinking about him for a moment. It wasn't
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