Cyprian’s spirit howled in grief as Jacob leaned down and kissed his mother’s head, tears rimming his eyes.
Nathaniel’s words raked Cyprian’s mind, ‘Tis obvious the boy already suffers the loss of her...
He fingered the vial in his pocket. What did the man know of him, or of Jacob? Cyprian knew what was best. Even if what he’d said were true, keeping the boy busy would help stem the agony that awaited once Camilla finally rested beneath the earth.
He swallowed the aching lump in his throat and motioned to the door. “Back to work, son. I will see to her now.”
Jacob leaned down to kiss his mother’s head, lingering there a moment while Camilla whispered something into his ear. He nodded and looked up, eyes shimmering and without glancing toward Cyprian, slipped out of the room and shut the door.
Cyprian watched, the remains of his heart crumbling. He couldn’t allow such sorrow to trespass in his home. ‘Twas his duty to keep his wife and child from such things, but it invaded like an unrelenting enemy.
He blinked, still smoldering over the idiot doctor’s visit. Had his warning to the Campbell girl meant nothing? Had she whispered of their vital secrets even after he’d proved he would make good on his word?
“Do not be so hard on Jacob, Cyprian.” Camilla’s voice crawled to him from the bed and he turned.
Pulling the vial from his pocket, Cyprian sat beside her. Throat too thick to speak, he could only offer a small smile as he opened the bottle and pressed it to her lips.
She swallowed and grimaced.
Cyprian gripped her skeletal fingers, hiding his concern with a tight smile. Her skin rested against her bones now with almost no flesh between them. Her once full lips were now so thin, so pale. The woman he loved was leaving him more each day.
He shook his head, shedding the perfidious thoughts. Camilla would not die. She would not leave him and certainly she would never leave Jacob. Not as long as Cyprian could provide this medicine. It had kept her alive until now, had it not? If he could keep that Campbell girl from disclosing his secret, he could keep stealing the patriot’s powder and the British would keep paying him.
Cyprian blinked slowly and sighed. “My dear, you must take some nourishment.” He glanced beside him and reached for the tray of fresh broth and bread. “It seems Jacob brought this up for you. Will you not take a bite?”
He brushed his fingers over her soft cheek as a weak grin struggled to lift one side of her mouth. “Not now Cyprian, I fear I am too tired.”
He gathered the bowl and a spoon, sniffing the bland mixture and stirring it in an attempt to coax an appetite from her. “You’re tired because you do not eat. Please, Camilla, you need your strength.”
She reached for his hand and moved the bowl away. “You must prepare yourself, Cyprian. We both know... the end is near.”
While his mind wailed in protest he kept his voice calm. “The end is not near, and I promise to do everything I can to keep you alive.”
And he would. Even if he had to displease God to do it.
***
Endless chills darted up and down Kitty’s back. Blurry swatches of m
oving color swayed in front of her while distant mumbling voices echoed through the room. Again she shivered. Why could she not become warm?
The cramps and never-ending waves of nausea snipped every thin thread of strength. She could scarce raise her fingers, nor blink her eyelids. Not only were they heavy as sacks of flour, but they scratched against her eyes like hot summer sand.
Another round of heaves pulsed up from her belly, yet she had no strength to move.
From somewhere, hands gripped her shoulders, helping her to heave into the waiting pot but her empty stomach had nothing left to purge. The pressure behind her eyes made her groan. Somehow she ended up on her back again and a cool cloth draped her forehead. She sunk into the pillow, succumbing to the greedy shadows.
Though illness ravaged, her mind refused to stop its exhaustive race. Cyprian’s face hovered around her, the basket resting just out of reach, and next to it—Nathaniel, his expression coiled in disgust.
Forgive me!
Chills and flashes of heat took turns draining her will. She groaned and rolled her head against the cool pillow as another surge of pain swept from her head to her feet. She needed to sleep.
Yet, even then Cyprian controlled her.
She would never be free again.
Chapter Twenty