Shaking off these thoughts, Sarah called out again, waving her free hand to get the maid's attention. This time, the young woman seemed to snap out of her reverie, hurrying down the steps towards them.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she said as she reached them. "I was just so surprised to see anyone here. We weren't expecting visitors."
"That's alright," Sarah said, relief flooding through her now that help had arrived. "Can you please help me get him inside? He needs to get warm and dry."
The maid nodded, moving to Victor's other side to help support him. As they made their way into the house, Sarah tried again to get some answers.
"Where is everyone else?" she asked. "And why didn't you hear us at the gate?"
The maid was quiet for a moment, her brow furrowed in concentration as they manoeuvred Victor through the doorway. Once inside, she turned to Sarah with an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry, miss," she said. "I'm afraid I can't hear very well. I have trouble with my ears, you see. And as for the others, well... I'm the only one here at the moment and my grandma has gone for shopping for daily necessities. The family hasn't used this house in so long, they've cut back on staff. I just come by a few times a week to keep things tidy."
Sarah felt a mix of emotions at this news. On one hand, it meant less privacy than she'd hoped for. On the other, having some help with Victor was a relief.
"I see," Sarah said, her mind already racing ahead to their next steps. "Well, we need to get him out of these wet clothes and warm up. Is there a bedroom we can use?"
The maid nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes! The master bedroom is all made up. It's just up the stairs, the first door on the right. Shall I fetch some towels and dry clothes?"
"Yes, please," Sarah said gratefully. "And if you could bring up some hot tea as well, that would be wonderful."
As the maid scurried off, Sarah began the arduous task of guiding Victor up the stairs. He was still trembling, his eyes unfocused, but he moved his feet when prompted. Sarah murmured encouragements with each step, her arm tight around his waist.
Finally, they reached the bedroom. It was large and well-appointed, with a massive four-poster bed dominating the space. Sarah guided Victor to sit on the edge of the bed, her heart aching at the lost expression on his face.
"It's okay, Victor," she said softly, cupping his face in her hands. "You're safe now. We're going to get you warm and dry."
Victor's eyes seemed to focus on her for a moment, a flicker of something - recognition? Fear? - passing through them. But then it was gone, replaced once more by that vacant stare.
The maid bustled in, her arms full of fluffy towels and what looked like men's pyjamas. "Here we are!" she said cheerfully. "I've put the kettle on for tea. Is there anything else you need?"
Sarah hesitated, looking at Victor. The thought of undressing him made her cheeks burn, but he was clearly in no state to do it himself. And he needed to get out of those wet clothes before he caught his death.
"I... I think we'll be alright for now," Sarah said finally. "Thank you for your help. We'll call if we need anything else."
The maid nodded, but lingered for a moment, her eyes sparkling as she looked between Sarah and Victor. "You really do make a lovely couple," she said dreamily.
Before Sarah could correct her, the maid had twirled out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Alone with Victor once more, Sarah took a deep breath. She had to focus on the task at hand, not on the maid's fanciful notions or her own confusing feelings.
"Alright, Victor," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Let's get you out of these wet things."
But as she reached for the buttons of his shirt, she hesitated. This was Victor Mallory, the epitome of propriety and composure. Even in his current state, would he want her to undress him?
The maid returned, her arms full of what looked like some old clothes. "I found these in one of the wardrobes," she said, setting them down. "They might be a bit large, but they're dry."
Sarah nodded gratefully. "Thank you. Now, about getting him changed..."
The maid's eyes lit up with an eagerness that made Sarah uncomfortable. "Oh, I can help with that, miss," she said quickly. "I've had to assist with dressing and undressing before in my previous positions."
Something in the maid's tone set Sarah on edge. Was it just her imagination, or did the young woman seem a little too keen on the idea of undressing Victor?
"No," Sarah said firmly, surprising herself with the vehemence in her voice. "That won't be necessary. Thank you for your help, but I can manage from here."
The maid's face fell slightly, but she nodded. "Of course, miss. Shall I go prepare something to eat then ?"
Sarah agreed, and the maid left, closing the door behind her. Once again, Sarah found herself alone with Victor, faced with the daunting task of getting him out of his wet clothes.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "I'm sorry about this, Victor," she murmured, though she knew he couldn't hear her. "But we need to get you warm."
With trembling fingers, Sarah began to unbutton Victor's shirt. As she peeled the sodden fabric away from his skin, she couldn't help but notice the lean muscles of his chest and abdomen. A blush crept up her cheeks, and she silently chastised herself. This was hardly the time for such thoughts!
Getting the shirt off proved to be a challenge, with Victor unable to assist. Sarah had to manoeuvre his arms, which felt like dead weights, out of the sleeves. By the time she'd managed it, she was breathing heavily from the exertion.
She grabbed one of the towels, gently patting Victor's torso dry. His skin was still alarmingly cold, and goosebumps raised across his chest. Sarah worked as quickly as she could, trying to ignore the inappropriate intimacy of the situation.
As she reached for the dry shirt, a knock at the door made her jump. The maid entered, carrying a tray with a steaming porridge.
"How is he, miss?" the maid asked, her eyes roving over Victor's half-naked form.
"Still very cold," Sarah replied, hastily draping the dry shirt over Victor's chest. "Thank you for the help. You can leave it there."
But the maid lingered, a frown creasing her brow. "Begging your pardon, miss, but shouldn't we wait for my grandmother? Or perhaps call for a doctor? This seems a bit... improper."
Sarah felt a flash of irritation. "We don't have time to wait," she said firmly. "Victor needs to get warm now. As for a doctor, I... I don't think that would be wise at the moment."
She couldn't explain her reluctance to involve outsiders. Something told her that Victor wouldn't want his vulnerable state to become public knowledge. And after his panic at the riverside, Sarah was wary of how he might react to strangers.
The maid still hesitated. "If you're sure, miss. But perhaps I should stay and assist? It's not right for a lady to..."
"No," Sarah interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Thank you for your concern, but I can manage. Please, just leave us for now."
Reluctantly, the maid retreated, closing the door behind her. Sarah turned back to Victor, who had remained oblivious to the entire exchange. His eyes were closed now, but his breathing was still shallow and uneven.
Sarah managed to work the dry shirt onto Victor, grateful for its warmth. But as her hands moved to the waistband of his trousers, she froze. This was a line she wasn't sure she could cross.
"Oh, Victor," she murmured, her cheeks burning. "I wish you could tell me what to do."
But Victor remained unresponsive, lost in whatever dark place his mind had retreated to. Sarah knew she couldn't leave him in wet trousers - hypothermia was a real risk. But the thought of removing them herself made her heart race with a mixture of embarrassment and something else she couldn't quite name.
Just as Sarah had steeled herself to proceed, the door burst open. Sarah whirled around, ready to admonish the maid for her intrusion. But the words died on her lips as she recognized the figure in the doorway.
"Granny!" Sarah exclaimed, a mixture of relief and trepidation washing over her.
"Well, well," Granny said, her voice dry. "When Mary told me that lady Sarah Whitmore herself had arrived I was surprised but when she told me that lady had arrived with a half-naked man in tow, I thought she must be exaggerating. I see now she was understating the case."