“He’s sleeping very soundly,” Nick observed. “Has he been bled?”
“I’ll not have it,” Ethan replied, laying Joshua in his bed and drawing up the covers. “He’s weak as it is, and bleeding never did anybody I know of any good.”
“I see.” Nick looked uncomfortable again.
“You don’t agree?” And now Ethan sounded wary too. Jeremiah stirred in his sleep, while Alice didn’t want to leave Ethan and Nick alone.
“I brought a physician with me, Ethan, and please hear me out.”
Ethan straightened the covers around Joshua and brushed a hand over the child’s forehead. “I’m listening.”
“Fairly doesn’t like bleeding either,” Nick said, “and he’s a member of the Royal College, but he also apprenticed to a ship’s doctor. He’s not just an old windbag spouting Latin and carrying around a jar of leeches.”
“I should hope not. Is this the fellow I met at Papa’s funeral?” Still, Ethan regarded his ailing child.
“You did, but my manners are remiss. Alice, a pleasure to see you, though you look exhausted.”
“She is,” Ethan rejoined, holding out a hand to Alice. She crossed the room at this gesture of invitation then nearly stumbled when Ethan captured her hand and drew her against his side. “I’ve kept her up to this ungodly hour because she is in charge of Joshua’s care, and my gratitude to our Alice is without limit.”
Our Alice. She hoped it meant his, Joshua’s, and Jeremiah’s, and maybe even a little bit Nicholas’s too.
Nick grinned at her. “Didn’t take you long to have him eating out of your hand. Let me fetch Viscount Fairly. He’ll want to talk to Alice before ordering her off to bed.”
Nick was back in a moment, bringing with him a tall blond man whose looks Alice would describe as beautiful but unsettling. In the dim light, it took her several minutes to discern that his eyes were two different colors, one blue and one green. Those eyes bore a light of kindness, though, and she was profoundly grateful to Nick for bringing some real medical expertise to the situation.
“Your patient,” Alice began, “is five going on six and answers to Joshua Nicholas Grey. He is as rambunctious as the day is long, and generally quite, quite sturdy. About a week ago, we noticed his energy flagging, and he began taking afternoon naps and coming down late for breakfast. Last night, an hour or so before dawn, his brother, Jeremiah, found him fevered.”
“Other symptoms?” the physician asked.
“Body aches, particularly in his neck, tummy, and upper arms, and this great fatigue. His throat is sore, but it doesn’t seem severely painful. His appetite is off, though his bowels do not pain him. He drinks all the vile potions we force on him then goes back to sleep. He’s just… ill.”
“I don’t want to talk out of turn,” Fairly said, “but given the symptoms you’ve listed, I can bet it isn’t typhoid, malaria, or cholera, neither does it smack of lung fever. We might have some version of influenza here, but I’d like to examine the child, if you don’t mind waking him.”
“I’m up.” Joshua struggled to sit up in his bed. “Is that Uncle Nick?”
“I’m up, too,” Jeremiah chorused. “Joshua, do you have to pee?”
“In private,” Joshua intoned truculently, glancing at the four adults in his bedroom.
“You can use my room,” Alice said. “I’ll have some food and drink put together for our guests.” She slipped from the room, hoping that between the physician and the little boys, neither Ethan nor Nick would do or say anything untoward.
Despite Joshua’s illness, despite the lateness of the hour and the relative crowd in the children’s room, Ethan watched Alice go.
Nick’s smile as Ethan’s gaze collided with his was sweet and knowing.
Well, what of it?
When the boys returned, Nick excused himself as well, muttering something about seeing how Alice fared in the kitchen.
Joshua peered at his father before climbing back into bed. “Are you leaving, Papa?”
“Good heavens,” the physician said, “he can’t leave, because then we’d have no one to make the introductions, and wouldn’t that be awkward?”
Joshua smiled tentatively at that sally, while Jeremiah’s expression was unconvinced.
“Viscount Fairly,” Ethan began, “may I make known to you my sons, Master Jeremiah Nicholas Grey, and your patient, Master Joshua Nicholas Grey. Boys, his lordship is a physician who was good enough to come here with Uncle Nick.”
Jeremiah took his father’s hand and aimed a worried look upward. “You won’t let him bleed Joshua?”
“I will not,” Ethan said. “No matter how Joshua begs and pleads and longs for a truly impressive scar. Now back into bed, both of you.”
“Yes, Papa.” Joshua’s voice conveyed fatigue, even in two little words.
The physician sat on the child’s bed. “Joshua, I must have your assistance if we’re to find an answer to what’s plaguing you. Will you give me your hand?”
Joshua complied and was taught how to feel a pulse by holding two middle fingers against Lord Fairly’s wrist. They compared pulses and tongues and heartbeats and breathing sounds, aches, and pains until Joshua was yawning again. All the while, Fairly had plied the child with questions, probed gently for soreness and swelling, and conducted a far more thorough examination than the interrogation-and-prescribing Ethan had usually seen pass for medical science.
“You’re tired now?” Fairly asked Joshua.
“Beat. I can’t stay up at all.”
“Then go back to sleep. You’ve been very patient with me, but I think you’re wise to be sleeping so much, Joshua.”
Joshua flopped down onto his bed. “I’m just tired.”
“You’re smart,” Fairly countered, pulling the covers up over the boy. “The more you sleep, the sooner you’ll heal, so sleep to your heart’s content.”
“G’night, Papa.” Joshua cracked his jaw and closed his eyes. “G’night, Doctor.”
“Good night, Son.” Ethan pressed a kiss to Joshua’s brow. “Sweet dreams. And you”—Ethan turned to spear Jeremiah with a look—“your brother is going to be fine, but he needs rest, so no keeping him up with your usual ruckus.”
“I don’t make a ruckus,” Jeremiah protested, but he was smiling bashfully. “Unless Joshua makes one with me.”
“Like the time you climbed down the tree in the middle of the night,” Ethan reminded him, “and tried to take your ponies for a romp when there was no moon at all. Dream of that, why don’t you?”
“Good night, Papa.” Jeremiah turned to his side, probably the better to keep an eye on his brother. “And good night, Lord Fairly.”
Ethan led the physician from the room, closed the door quietly, and rounded on him. “You’re sure of that? Sure Joshua just needs to rest?”
“As sure as a physician can be,” Fairly said, “which is short of certain but well past maybe.”
Relief coursed through Ethan, leaving a light, exhausted feeling and a need to see Alice and share the news with her. “Let’s go downstairs. Alice will have put together something to eat, and I don’t trust Nick not to be bothering her.”
“Bothering her? I understood your brother to be devoted to his countess.”
“He is, but he’s Nick, and he and Alice are friends of some sort, and those whom he cares for, Nick must bother, particularly the females.”
“I see.” Clearly, Fairly didn’t see, but he was too polite to comment further. Polite or exhausted.
“You must have ridden like demons,” Ethan said as they neared the kitchen.
“Nick lit out as soon as your pigeon landed. I live west of him, so I was on his way. Letty said I must come, because she would not fare well were illness to befall Danny or Elizabeth, and Nick would never ask if it weren’t important to him.”