The Secret Rose Read Online Free PDF Page A

not a word from home. Had her mother begun to believe her father, that she was the reason for their troubles and that she was wicked and accursed?
    She had tried, truly tried to be good, to make Miss Burke like her, and the other girls as well But none of them did.
    She did not dress right, or speak right, or even think right. Every word out of her mouth brought new instances of misconduct. If she did not hurry, she would be late, and tardiness was a great sin in Miss Burke’s book.
    But her feet would not move, and the effort only made the tears flow faster. She was so tired, so very, very tired. If only she could lie down a moment on the cool stone steps and rest.
    *
    “You found her where?”
    “In the servants’ stairwell, Miss Burke, unconscious. She’s feverish. I fear she’s seriously ill.”
    Miss Burke looked down on the pale girl with two bright spots of fever burning on her cheeks. Each rapid breath filled the small room with its rasping sound. Doctors were expensive, and the Gilliams had not given specific directions about their willingness to pay for extras regarding Alice Fitzgerald. “I will send word to Dublin about the girl’s condition. The Gilliams will make the decision about what’s to be done.”
    Miss Gregory looked at her employer across the width of the sick girl’s narrow bed. “If it’s contagious or if the child should die before word can be returned…”
    She let the sentence hang, but Miss Burke did not need it finished. “Very well, send for the doctor. But I warn you, if she’s brought pestilence into my school I shall have her removed immediately!”
    *
    Aisleen nearly gave up the effort to breathe, but suffocating was worse. Once she had nearly drowned in the Bandon, and this was very much like it. Her lungs seemed filled with water, leaving no room for air.
    “Mama?”
    A cool hand found its way between hers, and she gripped it tight. “Mama?”
    “No, darling. It’s Miss Gregory,” a soothing voice said close to her ear. “You must sleep, and you will feel better in the morning.”
    Aisleen gripped the hand tighter. “I want…to go…home. Please. Please!”
    The room dimmed, leaving her in a nether world of painful breathing and racking chills. Why did her mother not come for her? Why did no one come to take her home?
    Is that ye, colleen?
    Trembling, Aisleen whispered, “ Bouchal? ”
    Aye , came the reply that was no more than the whisper of the wind.
    Her eyes opened wide. “You came back!”
    “Who, dear? Who came back?” Miss Gregory questioned.
    Never gone, lass, and didn’t ye know it!
    Aisleen’s lids dropped over her feverish eyes as a smile curved her mouth. “Stay with me.”
    I cannae , the voice murmured in regret. I must go. But ye must live, colleen. There’re things ye’ve yet to do. Ye bear the mark of great promise. Never forget me!
    “No,” Aisleen murmured. She was not alone after all. She had her memories.
    *
    “She’s fallen asleep,” Miss Gregory reported as Miss Burke entered the sickroom. “I think she’s breathing easier.”
    “Ella’s fallen ill. That makes seven,” Miss. Burke said. “I’ve learned that the outbreak of scarlet fever is worse in London. Amy Lester is believed to have brought the disease back from her holiday.” She nodded at Aisleen. “I do not wish to see any of God’s creatures suffer, but I believe the doctor’s remedy was a blessing in disguise.”
    Miss Gregory glanced at Aisleen’s scarf-wrapped head and wondered again at her employer’s enmity for the child.
    *
    Aisleen lay back against her pillow in something akin to wonder. Her tiny room, once the sleeping quarters of four girls, was completely her own. The aching throat and itching had subsided a few days earlier, but she had not been allowed to set even a toe out of bed.
    Impatient with waiting for her breakfast tray, Aisleen threw back the covers. No one was here to tell her that she could not get dressed; therefore, it must be