She fell between waking and sleeping but the drink brought colour to her pallor. I re-made the fire until it leapt in the grate. I warmed my hands and rubbed her feet, and soon she began to shiver and the dreadful sleepiness receded. I got into bed beside her and wrapped my arms about her waist as though it might keep her from wandering. Her skin was warm against mine. I knew in my bones that she had nearly died. So nearly. And I also knew, in that moment, that it was not just a sense of loyalty that kept me at Iskar, nor the memory of Clara’s courage – but that somehow, woven into the days of loathing and fear, something had crept up on me, as quietly as winter to spring itself until, without warning, buds are springing from the empty branches and snowdrops pushing through the slumberous earth.

I loved her. I loved her like my own. And I put my cheek to hers and wept.

33

Mary woke before dawn, scrambled in a nightmare. Her head was hot to the touch and her chest wheezed. I went to my room and removed Bobbity, cleaning as much of the mess from her as I could, then I hid our wet things. It would not help Mary’s cause if it was believed that she had been sleepwalking again. When dawn broke, I went downstairs and found Mrs Lenister.

‘What has happened?’

‘Mary has a fever.’

‘And you? You look terrible pale. Get yourself to bed, Miss Swansome. I’ll be up in a moment.’

Mary lay moaning in sleep and when Mrs Lenister came with a cup, she put a palm to her forehead and shook her head. Gently, we woke her and gave her the tonic. Mrs Lenister watched as I drank mine and I lay back down beside Mary.

‘I shall sleep here and watch her. Would you get Greer to make me up a cot?’ My lips recoiled from the name.

Mrs Lenister nodded and hurried from the room, returning later with a clean cloth and a jug of water steeped in herbs. I watched as she laid strips of willow bark across Mary’s head and bade me do the same.

Greer came soon and I steeled myself to meet her. I wanted to gauge her reaction but her face gave nothing away. When she reached the door to go, Mary moaned, throwing the covers off, and Greer paused, but her expression was unreadable.

I slept then, long and deeply. When I woke it was to the blazing fire. A bowl of oil and herbs stung the air.

I do not know how much time passed until I came round again. Although I ached, I no longer felt feverish, and with relief, I found Mary sitting up, a bowl of bone stock on a tray before her.

Mrs Lenister sat by the fire and a smile split her face.