Of Parchment and Saltwater

Chapter 24

     I awoke to Benjamin gently massaging my back, and the taste of blood in my mouth.
     "You're still here," I mumbled, turning to face him. His eyes widened at the sound of my voice and he jumped up, crying, "She's awake!"
     I squinted, confused, and took his hand. "Ben...you don't need to call a doctor. I'm-"
     "You don't remember what happened?"
     There was pure shock on his face. Suddenly, my eyes caught my chemise and I gasped.
     "Benjamin, I'm covered in blood. What's going on?"
     Dr. Deveze hurried up and knelt beside the bed, checking my burning eyes and the inside of my mouth silently.
     "You sat up in bed without a word," Ben explained anxiously, "and blood started coming from your mouth and nose. You don't remember any of that?"
     I shook my head, touching my blood-soaked chemise and trying to collect my confused thoughts. Just then, I pitched over the other side of the bed and vomited into the bucket, choking and coughing up more black blood.
I felt Ben hold my hair back and rub my shoulders, unsure what to do with himself as I violently retched before him.
     "Benjamin," I whispered, wiping my mouth and gasping for breath, "you can't stay here. If you get sick, I-"
"I know, darling," he said tenderly as he helped me lay back down comfortably, "The doctors told me I could stay until you woke up. I have but only a few more minutes with you here." Tears welled up in his eyes, although he tried to hide them, and I slipped my hand into his with a weak smile.
"Will you forever tell Samuel how much his mother loved him?" Benjamin's hands trembled.
"You can tell Samuel yourself when you come home. Fight for us, Louisa; I'm begging you. Don't let our son grow up without a mother like I did."
I pulled him into my arms with all the strength I had left and wept into his chest, whispering, "Is that an order, Major?"
"Of the most urgent kind, my love. You're going to survive; I know it."
He kissed me gently and Dr. Deveze led him out of the room. I couldn't bear the thought that I may never see him again. How could I survive being on the front lines of a war only to be killed by my own body?
"Miss Louisa? Was that your husband?" Henry asked timidly, wary of my tears. I turned to face him and nodded softly.
"What's his name? Is he a soldier?"
I smiled a little at the realization that the little boy probably hadn't even been born by the end of the war.
"Benjamin Tallmadge. And yes, he was a Major in the Calvary. I love him very...very much, dear. I'm afraid I'll never see him again."
He stretched out his hand to take mine and offered me a gentle look of understanding.
Dr. Deveze reappeared and sat on the edge of Henry's bed, looking between the two of us quizzically. "I have wonderful news for you, Henry. Monsieur Girard believes your fever is gone for good and I'm here to bring you to the convalescent ward-where your father is."
The little boy looked to me anxiously, as though he was afraid to leave me here.
"Oh, that's wonderful, dear," I exclaimed weakly, stifling a painful cough, "You must go quickly! Do not worry about me; I will see you again soon."
Obviously excited to leave and join his father, although he was reluctant to show it around me, he slowly stood up and clumsily embraced me. "Thank you, Miss Louisa. You saved my life."
     I smiled and kissed his forehead before waving goodbye and Dr. Deveze turned back to look at me.
     "Monsieur Girard will be in to examine you any moment now," he said, "I believe he's arranged for a bath to stop the vomiting as well."
     "Thank you," I whispered weakly, "Goodbye, Henry."
Mr. Girard approached a few minutes later and sat on the edge of my cot with a sympathetic smile and took my clammy hand.
"Bonsoir, Madame Louisa."
"Good evening to you as well, Monsieur," I answered, barely moving my mouth.
"And how is the fever?"
I began to answer but I felt the bile rise in my throat and pitched over to the other side of the bed again, trying to contain the violent pain and terrible taste I was all too familiar with. He pursed his lips as I turned back to face him, gasping for breath.
"I see," he said quietly, "Still nauseous?"
Removing the hair pressed to my forehead with sweat, I replied, "Always. It hurts so much, ami. Have you any more calomel?"
The Frenchman sighed. "It's been almost two weeks, Louisa. Dr. Deveze has bled you four times in each arm, you've taken almost an entire vile of calomel, and you've even experienced the state of delirium that most recovering patients suffer from. I don't know what else to do but order cold bathing and more of the creamed barley. Shall I carry you to your bath?"
I rubbed my yellow eyes and nodded, letting him pick me up from the sweat-soaked sheets and carry me into what had once been the estate's kitchen.
Two of the nurses helped me into the wooden tub and I watched with exhausted interest as some of the blood from my chemise permeated into the cold water.
     Mr. Girard pulled up a small stool beside me and put a few fingers to my neck, solemnly feeling my pulse. "I suggest at least an hour in here, my friend, if it is possible. Shall-"
     He froze at the sight of my right hand, where  I still held scars from Simcoe's attack.
     "Is that from the fever, Mrs. Tallmadge? I've never seen anything like it before."
     I smiled a little and shook my head. "No, this is just...it happened a while ago. The bones in my hand were crushed but I'm fine."
     Sinking lower into the water so my hair was submerged, I watched as he thought carefully.
"Is this the same event that caused the scars on your stomach and arm? You seem to have found quite a few aventùres over your life, hmm?"
"I suppose they could be considered such...although I'd rather not have any adventures if that is the sort I'm cursed to have. The bullet wounds on my side and arm are from the war; this one," I held waved the slightly disfigured fingers on my right hand, "is from only a few years ago."
He raised his eyebrows and I laid back, closing my eyes and trying to ignore the nausea. "You were shot in battle?"
I laughed softly and replied, "No, not quite. I got these on an...espionage mission of sorts. Shot off my horse and sentenced to hanging, but the one on my arm was from my escape."
One of the nurses turned back for a moment and smiled a little. My past was quite popular at Bush Hill, and I could tell that she'd heard stories from some of the other nurses.
     "Ah, so you are not just a doctor, Mrs. Tallmadge," Mr. Girard exclaimed, mixing a solution of calomel and lemon, "you are a spy, oui?"
     I nodded slightly and ran a gaunt hand along the hem of my chemise. "I suppose so. It isn't as fun as you may imagine, however. I enjoy being a mother."
     We talked for a long time until he was called to a dying patient, and the nurses came in periodically to check on me. The bath did seem to be helping my fever, and it felt easier to breathe with the fresh, cold air coming in from the open windows.
     When I was finished, I changed into a clean, dry nightdress and Dr. Deveze carried me back into the rancid-smelling room and laid me on the bed once again. I was asleep in almost no time at all.

     Vivid nightmares haunted me in a way I'd never experienced before, and I found myself in that treacherous alleyway in Yorktown with the French soldier over and over again, laced with images of the HMS Jersey and Captain Simcoe's attack.
     I awoke constantly throughout the night, drenched in sweat, with cold chills seizing my body. My pulse was uneven and my bones hurt to even adjust the blankets.
     My vomiting worsened, as though my body was trying to rid every last drop of blood and bile from my system. The burning in the back of my throat and eyes made every movement painful, and I felt as though I was going to die of thirst all night. The fever was breaking.

SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG AHAHAHA SHE MADE IT THOUGH SO THIS IS LIKE THE FIRST ACTUAL GOOD THING THATS HAPPENED TO HER PRETTY MUCH also I didn't kill Henry so be thankful I literally had his death written out but I made him live instead youre welcome