Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“It is best to forget such things altogether,” I said, taking another glass of wine as a footman passed by. “Innocent infatuations are part of life and need not always be acted upon. I am content.”
“What a load of horseshit,” he remarked as I gave in and drank this time. “You surely cannot have come all this way just to look upon her from afar.”
I had, actually. Now that her brother was married, she would be leaving for Everely, and I was not sure our paths would ever cross again. I had rarely seen her in London over the last few weeks, so I thought to put an end to this silly infatuation of mine.
“Dr. Darrington!” the maid all but shouted as she rushed up to me, her face flushed red and eyes wide. “The duchess requires your assistance immediately! Lady Clementina is dying!”
All other thoughts fell out of my mind.
“My medical bag is in your carriage. Have it brought to me at once!” I shouted to Henry as I shoved the glass into his hands and began to run.
5
Verity
“Lady Clementina is dying!” The words spread throughout the ballroom like a fire in trees. People, like leaves, drifted off into other groups to spread the news, and before long, even the music came to a stop.
The first person I looked for was Dr. Darrington, catching him just as he dashed through the doors with the maid in tow. I could only imagine what sight he would be met with.
“Silva, Verity,” Damon called as he reached our side and took his wife’s hand. “We are leaving. My father is already leading my mother and sister out.”
“Yes, it is hardly appropriate for us to stay,” Silva replied, gripping on tightly.
“Do you both have all your things?” he asked, looking to me.
I nodded, not sure what to say. I could not believe it was true. Lady Clementina? A girl of her age dying? Her mother had said it was nothing but a cold. And while she had clearly looked ill—far too ill even to walk—beside me moments earlier, it still had not occurred to me that her matter would be so grave. All the splendor of the Rowley home seemed to have vanished by the time we reached the outside. Instead, the air was quite grim and silent as everyone walked to their carriages. Ours had just approached when, like thunder ripping through the skies, we heard a scream that sent chills down my spine.
“Clementina!”
I stared back at the house in motionless horror.
“Quickly, into the carriage,” Damon ordered, taking my hand and helping me inside. Even within my seat, I could not look away from the windows. I was unsure from which the scream hailed, but for some reason, I stared in hopes that I would be able to…to…well, I did not know what I hoped to accomplish. Only when our carriage had driven so far that I could no longer see even the slightest hint of the wisteria flowers did I sit back. Before me, Damon and Silva sat quietly, their hands locked so tightly that I could not tell whose grip was firmer.
“We must think all will be well with her, and all shall,” Silva said gently into the darkness, and Damon nodded in agreement.
I wished to say that there would be no such thing as cemeteries if it were that simple. But I held my tongue, and the ride back to the Du Bell house was silent and strangely quick, as if all of society had sought not to be out upon the streets, as though death were contagious.
“Welcome back, my lord,” said the butler at the door to Damon once he’d exited the carriage. “Your father has just arrived and wishes to see you in his study.”
“And my mother?” Damon questioned.
“In the drawing room with Lady Hathor. She’s called for tea.”
“You go see your father, my dear. Verity and I will go to your mother,” Silva said to him before looking at me. I nodded and handed my gloves to the maid before following Silva, when Hathor stepped from the room.
“Verity and I will go straight to bed,” Hathor proclaimed, taking my arm faster than I could blink.
“But what of the tea?” Silva called after us.
“No, thank you,” she responded, already on the stairs and moving so quickly I had to lift my skirts.
“Hathor, slowly, or I shall fall!” I called after her as we went. She did not slow until we were back in my room. It was then that she spun around to look at me, her honey-colored eyes wide.
“What happened?” she demanded, and I stared back at her, my head still practically left downstairs. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Clementina! What happened when you left the room? Did you see anything? I saw when you both nearly fell over and knocked into the chair. But then I had to cause a distraction, of course, which left me surrounded and unable to see what occurred next. I tried to exit as well, but Mama held on to me as though I were a prisoner until you returned. Was she all right? Well, obviously, she was not all right considering the news that came after. But surely, she could not be dying? Though who would suggest someone was dying if they are not dying!”