She smiled, dunked her hands into the water, and then let out a little shriek.
"What now?"
"It's freezing. Monsieur Belmont must have had ice brought up. Perhaps we will have an iced fruit for dessert this evening."
"Ellie, the jam..."
She reached out for the pot, scowling as the servants edged away from her. Clearly, they still didn't trust her in the kitchen. "Here, I'm just going to move it to this table over here, where it can cool and—"
Charles would never be quite certain what happened next. He had been watching Monsieur Belmont expertly chop an aubergine when he heard Ellie let out a cry of pain. When he looked up, the large pot of jam was falling to the ground. As he watched in helpless horror, the pot hit the ground and the lid bounced off. Purple jam flew through the air, splattering the stove, splattering the floor, and splattering Ellie.
She howled like an injured animal and collapsed upon herself, sobbing in agony. Charles felt his heart stop and he ran to her side, his boots sliding through the hot, sugary jam as he raced across the kitchen.
"Get it off me," she whimpered. "Get it off me."
Charles looked at her and saw that the boiling jam was stuck to her skin. Good God, her skin was still being burned as he stood there watching. It appeared to be exclusively on her hands and wrists. Without taking time to think, he grabbed the bucket of cold water she'd used earlier and plunged her hands into it.
She jerked against him and tried to yank her hands out. "No," she cried out. "It's too cold."
"Darling, I know it's cold," he said softly, hoping she couldn't hear the way his voice was shaking. "I have my hands in the water, too."
"It hurts. Oh, it hurts."
Charles swallowed and looked around the kitchen. Surely someone would know what to do, how to make her pain go away. It killed him to hear her whimpers, to feel the way her body shuddered. "Shhh, Ellie," he said in his most soothing voice. "Look, the jam is washing away. See?"
She looked down at her hands in the water, and Charles immediately wished he hadn't asked her to. Her skin was a bright and angry red where the jam had washed off.
"Get me more ice," he barked at no one in particular. "The water is growing too warm."
Mrs. Stubbs stepped forward even as three maids scurried to the icehouse. "My lord, I'm not certain that you have chosen the best course of action."
"The jam was still boiling hot. I had to cool it down."
"But she's shaking."
He turned to Ellie. "Does it hurt as much?"
She shook her head. "I can hardly feel anything."
Charles bit his lower lip. He wasn't at all certain as to the best way to treat a burn. "Very well. Perhaps we should get you bandaged."
He allowed her to lift her hands from the bucket, but it was only ten seconds before she was whimpering in pain again. He plunged her hands back into the water just as the maids returned with ice. "Something about the cold water eases her pain," he told Mrs. Stubbs.
"She can't stay there forever."
"I know. Just another minute. I want to be sure."
"Would you like me to prepare a special burn pomatum for her?"
Charles nodded and returned his attention to Ellie. He held her tightly and placed his lips on her ear, whispering, "Stay close to me, darling. Let me pull the pain out of you."
She nodded.
"Take a deep breath," he instructed. As she did so, he looked back up to Mrs. Stubbs and said, "Get someone to clean this up. I don't want to see it. Throw it all away."
"No!" Ellie burst out. "Not my jam!"
"Ellie, it's just jam."
She turned her face to his, her eyes clearer than they'd been since she'd been burned. "I've been working all day on it."
Charles breathed an internal sigh of relief. If she could focus on the damned jam, maybe she could pull her mind away from the pain.
"What is going on here?" came an awful screech.
He looked up to see his aunt Cordelia. Good God, this was all they needed. "Someone get her out of here," he muttered.
"Has she been burned? Has someone been burned? For years, I have been warning all of you about the fire."
"Will someone remove her from the kitchen?" he said more loudly.
"The fire will consume us all." Cordelia began waving her arms wildly in the air. "All of us!"
"Now!" Charles roared, and this time two footmen appeared to escort his aunt from the room. "Good God," he muttered. "The woman is completely unhinged."
"She's harmless," Ellie said shakily. "You told me so yourself."
"You stay quiet and conserve your energy," he said, his voice rough with fear.
Mrs. Stubbs stepped forward with a small bowl in her hands. "Here is the pomatum, my lord. We need to apply it to the burns and then wrap her hands in a bandage."
Charles looked at the sticky mixture dubiously. "What is in that?"
"One beaten egg and two spoonfuls of sweet oil, my lord."
"And you're certain this will work?"
"It is what my mother always used, my lord."
"Very well." Charles sat back and watched as the housekeeper gently applied the mixture to Ellie's splotchy skin, then wrapped her hands in strips of thin linen. Ellie held her neck and shoulders stiffly, and he could tell she was trying not to cry out from the pain.
God, it broke his heart to watch her like this.
A small commotion arose in the doorway, and he turned to see Judith, closely followed by Claire and Helen. "We heard noise." Helen said, breathy from having run through the house. "Aunt Cordelia was screaming."