Simon banged his cane down on the floor. ‘In fact, get out of my sight and pack your bags!’
‘You need not ask me twice. No amount of money would make me stay and look after that…that monster of a child!’ The nurse turned on her heel.
He shook his head in disgust. Yet another staffing problem to deal with.
The pain in his head grew, throbbing and blotting out everything. He gave his head a shake and with an effort forced the pain to recede.
He thought that once Diana arrived, everything would get easier, and he could dispense with the nurse. But instead he had been landed with a former débutante and Robert was becoming more unmanageable by the day.
He refused to even think about what the doctor had said about how Robert’s mind could be affected by the illness. He wouldn’t let it happen. Robert would get well. He wanted his boy back.
‘I want Aunt Diana. I heard the carriage.’ Robert’s green eyes blazed defiantly as he banged his hand against the iron bedstead. ‘Aunt Diana! Aunt Diana!’
‘And this is the way you behave? Creating a mess like this? To get attention? You would make your aunt cry.’
‘Mr Clare,’ Miss Benedict said in a soft voice, as if he had done something wrong.
‘I want my aunt!’
‘You have shamed me, Robert. Truly shamed me.’ Simon shook his head. ‘When this is cleaned up, then we will discuss your aunt.’
Robert closed his mouth, attempted to draw a breath and failed. As Simon watched in horror, the boy’s limbs and face began to jerk uncontrollably.
A small noise came from Miss Benedict behind him in the doorway. Simon wanted to tell her that this was not the Robert he knew.
‘Stop that, Robert! You can control yourself if you want to. Concentrate, boy!’ A surge of fear swept through him as Robert gave no indication that he had heard. He wanted to do something for the boy. He wanted to prevent what was coming next. ‘Cease that noise this instant!’ He put a hand to his head and whispered, ‘Please!’
‘Shall I get the footmen and the rope, sir?’ The maid peeped out from behind the door. ‘It is the way I had to do it last night when Mrs Smith refused to help. The boy will not take his medicine. It is more than a body should have to deal with. Like Mrs Smith said—he should be sent away to one of them hospitals.’
‘Are ropes really necessary? The boy seems frightened enough,’ Miss Benedict asked in a clear voice, breaking through Simon’s desperation. ‘Does he have to be tied down?’
‘I am trying, Papa. I can’t seem to stop.’ The boy’s limbs began to move of their own accord, jerking and dancing. A ghastly parody of the boy he knew and loved.
‘You must stop, Robert. Or else you will leave me with no choice…’
‘I am trying, Papa.’ Robert struggled to contain his movement but the jerking and rocking only increased. ‘Truly I am.’
Prior to Robert’s illness Simon had considered the accident when his travelling engine had exploded to be the most frightening experience of his life, but now he knew it was far more dreadful to watch Robert suffer this torment. Robert raised two trembling hands. The night shirt fell away from his wrists and the red welts from last night were clearly visible.
Simon winced, hating the necessity of restraining the boy. He had no other choice. Robert had to take his medicine. It was a fight for Robert’s soul, but it did not mean that he had to like the method.
The boy’s breath rattled again, an awful sound. Simon cursed his own useless arm. Once he would have been able to administer the medicine himself, but no longer. ‘Bring two footmen. Quickly!’
He heard the maid’s footsteps hurrying down the hall. He forced his hand to pick up the beef-jelly bowl, heart sick at his own failure. Behind him Robert’s wailing rose and fell.
‘I wish to speak with you, Mr Clare. In the corridor.’
‘Is there some new problem, Miss Benedict? Has the noise disturbed your kitten per chance?’ A bitter laugh escaped his throat. ‘If you will excuse me, other matters are more urgent.’
‘We need to speak.’ Her eyes became rapiers. ‘Now, Mr Clare, before you make a big mistake.’
He looked down at her, tempted to brush her aside. The avenging angel with the flawless skin and disapproving beestung mouth, so righteous in her indignation, so sure in her clipped tone of voice—what did she know about his fears? Or how the laudanum appeared to return Robert to his former self for a few hours? He knew what Mrs Smith thought and what the four nurses before her had thought.
All he wanted was for Robert to get well. A great weariness descended over him. Every particle of his body ached. He hated this. He would loathe himself afterwards, but it was the only way to get Robert to take his medicine.
‘As you wish.’ Simon ran his hand through his hair and waited. He had had such hopes when the carriage had arrived back, but now all he had was an interfering, meddlesome woman. He did not need to be told that tying down his son with ropes was wrong. With her disapproving look and crossed arms, Miss Benedict failed to understand that he was doing the only thing he could to save his son. Robert had to take the medicine whether he liked it or not.
‘I highly doubt that Robert has done this on purpose.’
‘He tries to avoid the laudanum. The nurse was right. The boy has become ungovernable.’ He forced a ghost of a smile. ‘And it is entirely my fault.’
‘You are taking the nurse’s word. The woman who opened an invalid’s window during a blizzard! She could have given him lung fever! How could you have allowed such a creature in this house?’
Simon clenched his hands. What other new great insight could Miss Benedict give him?
Miss Benedict clamped her mouth shut, but her eyes burned with an even greater intensity. ‘You should have checked…’
‘I note you do not offer any references of your own. You ask me to take you on trust.’
‘I can certainly do a better job than that…that slattern!’
‘The footmen have already been called.’
‘Listen to my plan.’ Phoebe forced her voice to be calm. She had to get through to this man. The boy was in trouble. She could see his blue lips and uncontrollable shuddering. This was no act of defiance or a wish to get attention. This was something else entirely. ‘He may not be to blame.’
Mr Clare’s face blazed with a barely controlled fury, but she stood her ground and refused to flinch.
‘Do you not think every way has been tried? Tried and failed? I have had experienced nurses. This is no tea party, Miss Benedict. This is real life. The boy must take his medicine or risk dying.’
‘But not that way! It is cruel and is making matters worse! We need to speak if I am to help the boy.’
A faint sardonic smile touched his lips. ‘I am rather busy at present. If you disagree
