by Abby Ayles
Perhaps this was what Cassandra had been referring to? Perhaps this was how Kitty would discover her purpose? Her purpose certainly was not to marry and have children, like she would rather. Perhaps it was to help others, to look after the ill and injured and heal them? That would make some sense to her.
Her whole life would make sense, in fact. All her suffering, all the hard work she had put into becoming strong, and healthy, and normal. It was all leading her towards her true purpose, towards her duty to her fellow man, towards a lifetime of caring for others and showing them how they too could become normal, healthy people.
The earl no longer needed her. Helena, on the other hand, desperately did. She could not linger, hoping to get a few more minutes in the earl's company, when her dearest friend needed companionship and support. She had to put others before herself. And she was happy to.
Because Cassandra was right. She could not base her own happiness on whatever the men in her life wanted. Men like Lord Stamford didn't know what they wanted. They didn't understand it. Perhaps he really did love her. But then he was a fool, making yet another reckless decision. It was up to her to be the responsible party and make a more sensible decision.
It wasn't the nicest thing to do. But it was the right thing to do. And it made her feel happy to know that she would be supporting another of her friends.
She began packing her bags. In part she wanted to just vanish, like he had done, to show him what it was like. There were many things she wanted him to feel, many things she wanted to say to him, many things she wanted to see on his face. But it would help nobody.
Had Delilah not attempted, for many years, to show him the error of his ways? And had she not failed every time? He was a reckless, wild, irresponsible man. And that was not for her to fix. In fact, she didn't want to fix it. She liked him like that. She loved him like that. And no doubt many others would love him too. He didn't need fixing. She didn't need fixing. They were both perfect as they were.
And she needed closure. And there was no way of guaranteeing closure if they did not bid one another farewell. It would be peaceful, it would be courteous, it would be caring. She would not attempt to make him feel bad about something he had said or done in the past. They would part ways as friends.
“Why are you packing your bags?” Delilah asked, standing in the doorway.
“I am leaving,” Kitty replied.
Delilah blinked, stared, and looked at the letter. “Is it something my brother said?” she asked.
“Not at all. But I have to go,” Kitty said to Delilah. “I have a dear friend whose health is far, far worse than mine ever has been.”
“Oh, I am so sorry to hear. Has she asked after you?” Delilah asked.
Kitty nodded. “Yes. She is my oldest friend, and I am hers. She may need surgery, and as she is afraid of it, she wants me by her side.”
Delilah nodded back. “I understand that. You need to look after one another, and surgery is serious business. If these are her last days, then she will need a loving friend by her side. I cannot imagine anyone more fit for the task.”
Kitty smiled. “I am glad you understand. I have also been thinking that even if she makes it through the surgery, I would like to stay with her.”
“Until she has recovered?” Delilah asked.
Kitty shook her head. “Forever. She will never be well. Only better or worse. And perhaps my support shall make life easier for her.”
“So you shall be living with her for good?” Delilah asked, seeming more than a little surprised.
“Why? Did you want me to stay?” Kitty asked back.
Delilah sighed. “Honestly, I would have liked it. You have done so well looking after my brother. And I have never met anyone who can get through to him like you do. But I understand that you want to support your friend, and I could not oppose such a good and noble pursuit. Just... tell me one thing.”
“What is that?” Kitty asked.
“Why are you leaving for good when you have a chance of marrying an earl? I would have thought you would be returning as swiftly as possible, so that you can remain in his life,” she said.
“But that is not my purpose, or his.”
“Your purpose?” Delilah asked.
“People like Helena and I need to look after one another,” Kitty explained. “It is my purpose in this life, I suppose, to look after others. I have done all I can for your brother. His knee is healed and his health in general seems much improved. He can continue with his life as before. Now I must do the same for Helena.”
Delilah was not looking happy, but not contesting what Kitty was saying either. “I shall leave you to finish packing, in that case,” she said. “See you at tea.”
He arrived the next morning, just as his letter suggested, and seemed incredibly happy to see them both, as well as disappointed that Cassandra had already left. The carriage rolled in, crunching up the gravel, the door swung open and the staff clustered around it, taking bags and bringing them in. There he stood, grinning, his boots and coat dirty from the journey, several days of stubble on his chin, a tear in his shirt from battling some bag or another as he wielded his luggage on the fortnight-long journey home.
But besides being a little road-worn, he was almost the picture of perfect health, strong, smiling, with a spark in his eyes. He had recovered. He would not need her anymore.
“Kitty, at least you are still here, unlike that busy, busy sister in law of mine,” he remarked. “Please, go and get out of your coat. We can go to town tomorrow. I wish to bathe, and then eat breakfast with you both,” he said with a grin.
“I'm afraid I am not going to town. I am leaving to see a friend,” Kitty replied.
“When?” he asked, handing his coat to a maid to be put away.
“As soon as the servants have unloaded your carriage, they shall prepare mine,” Kitty said softly.
“So soon?” he asked, a sadness taking over his eyes. “I would have liked to tell you about Germany. Very well, very well, I shall tell you when you return. When will that be?”
“Never, Lord Stamford.”
He froze on the spot. “Never?” he asked, raising both eyebrows as though he could not understand her words.
“Never,” she confirmed.
“That is...” he paused, trying to think of the right word. “That is... it's... that is a pity,” he finally managed.
She pursed her lips. “It is. But you are very well now. You no longer need my care. And I have a friend who does need my help.”
“I see. I suppose I ought to thank you for everything, in that case,” he said, his voice falling.
She had not expected for goodbye to be so difficult. But it was what she needed to do. It was not always easy to do the right thing. “You are most welcome, Lord Stamford,” she said with a smile, affixing her bonnet and making sure she had her travel gloves with her.
He embraced her and kissed her cheek. His lips felt so warm, so soft, so wonderful. She wanted to feel them on her own. But she knew they were being watched. She could not kiss a man she was not going to marry, in front of his sister, after she had just told the other woman that they would not marry. That would be indecent.
Kitty turned to face her friend. There were no more words to be said. Even breakfast had been quiet. Hugging Delilah warmly, she felt a pain in her chest. She needed to see them again. All of them if she could. But at least Delilah and Cassandra. Somehow she would find a way. Even if it hurt.
“Have a safe journey,” Delilah said with a warm smile.
Kitty smiled back. “I hope I do.”
Chapter 32
Helena Keats was staying in a little seaside cottage in Brighton, only a few minutes from the hospital where her surgery was to take place. It was safe and cozy, and it very much reminded Kitty of the resort. She understood why this was the place Helena had chosen to prepare herself for her treatment. It was quiet, soothing, full of fresh air, within reach of a good hospital with many skilled p
hysicians and surgeons.
It would be a good place to recover as well. Provided Helena made it. Kitty shivered from head to toe at the mere thought that her friend could go into surgery never to come out again. But Helena had explained her reasons for it. Namely, that she would rather have a chance at a normal life and risk dying on the surgeon's table, than live the last two years of her life in increasing amounts of agony. Beyond her decision to have the surgery, she was putting the rest in God's hands.
It was also doing Kitty some good to be by the seaside again. Her joints didn't seem to need it as much. Not since the trip to Spain. But her mind enjoyed the peace, and the soft murmur of the waves. Especially after all that had taken place. She was not sure that she would be as equipped to handle the news if it were not for the soothing environment.
Everything felt surreal to her. Her stay with the earl felt like a dream, and the future, with Helena's looming surgery date, felt even less real. All that was solid was the present, and the present was quite comfortable. So the two girls let their minds relax and enjoyed one another's company in the little cottage.
“I am so glad to have you here,” Helena said, as they sat by the slightly open window, enjoying the scent of the sea breeze. “There is nobody else I would rather share this time with.”
Kitty nodded. “I am glad I can be here for you. Especially seeing as my presence means so much to you. I will do all I can to make you happy.”
“So long as you are enjoying my company as well,” Helena replied. “I am afraid I can be a bit of a downer of late.”
Kitty felt like reminding her that she could be dying on the operating table in a matter of weeks. But she did not. She did not like thinking about it. Helena did not like talking about it. So they would not.
“I wouldn't want to be anywhere else,” Kitty insisted. “It makes me so happy to know that you are well.
“Truth be told, this is the best I have felt in years,” Helena replied with a smile. “Perhaps the stress of my conditions was making me feel worse than I ought to. I have been walking around the cottage far more than I do at home. Not to mention your company, which is wonderful stress relief.”
Kitty felt sorry for her friend. “But at home you have your family to support you. Does that not help with your stress?”
“They do not understand me, though,” Helena replied with a sigh. “That is the problem with people who have not been ill. They cannot possibly relate.”
Kitty paused to consider this. Helena was not wrong. In fact, it was a complaint Kitty had made many times on her own. But somehow it did not ring true when she heard it. There was something more, something deeper.
She looked out the window. The rain was beginning to fall. She pulled the window shut with a gentle click just as the first raindrops splattered inside. Those little droplets were not going to join the rest of their brothers and sisters in forming little trails down to the sea. Nor were the ones outside going to experience the windowsill. But both were still raindrops, nonetheless.
“They may not understand, but they do still feel,” Kitty replied, squeezing Helena's hand. “They do still care. That must count for something.”
Helena paused. “I am not sure what you mean. What good is caring if they cannot help?”
“I cannot help,” Kitty replied. “I am only here. I cannot make you feel better, or treat any of your conditions. I can only listen and care and be a friend to you. And your parents also care. And will also listen. You and I are not alone in the world.”
Helena paused again, looking out at the rain falling. “Sometimes I feel so alone, though,” she replied.
Kitty squeezed her hand again. “I think that is normal.”
“You have a post, dear,” Mrs. Keats said, walking in with two envelopes, startling the girls. Once again Kitty felt a sense of dread looking at the letters. She wasn't sure why, but again she got the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong.
However much Cassandra had insisted that she would know her purpose when she saw it, it seemed she had more of a knack for spotting the signs of impending doom. But it wasn't as though she could not open the letters. So she took them, thanked Mrs. Keats, and waited until it was just Helena and herself in the room again before opening the first one. It was dated two days after Kitty set off to see Helena.
“Dearest Kitty,
I know that this is unlikely, but I have exhausted all other options. So I can only hope and pray that you will reply to my letter saying that my fool of a brother is with you, safe and sound.
He disappeared the day following your departure and did not leave a trace. The only clue we have is he has taken the fastest horse in the stables and no other items besides the clothes on his back. I cannot help but wonder if, after your parting words, he has decided to seek you.
Please reply as soon as you receive this letter. I am worried sick.
Yours
Delilah Sinclair formerly Lovell.”
The letter must have been delayed for some time in the post, and Kitty felt suddenly overcome with worry for both the earl and his sister. She immediately opened the next letter, hoping it was news that he had been found safe and sound. But it was not. It was dated a mere day ago.
“To Miss Kitty Langley and all else whom it may concern,
Her Grace Cassandra Lovell has requested that we write to this address to inform the addressee that Lord Augustus Sinclair, Earl of Stamford, is presently being attended to at the Royal Hospital in London. He has suffered some grave injuries as a consequence of untreated internal bleeding. He succumbed to his injuries on the 8th, and is as of the writing of this letter in a suppressed condition known as a coma, from which he may or may not awaken.
Her Grace has furthermore requested your presence during this most trying time, that you may be of comfort to Her Grace and, should he awaken, to His Lordship as well. No further instructions have been given and no reply has been requested.
Sincerely,
Dr. Jones, RHL.”
Kitty felt like she was about to be sick. Or faint. Or both. She sat back in her chair and drew a deep, steady breath. It all felt like even more of a dream than before.
That was not possible. Even the timing was wrong. The eighth? Kitty looked from the first letter to the second. Delilah had written to her on the eighth. She had left on the fifth, mere days before. How had he made it to London in two days, much less been there long enough to get injured and end up in hospital?
Unless they meant to say that the injuries he sustained over a month ago had not fully healed? But then how did he manage to get from his home to London? And why? And how come was it that Cassandra was the one attending to him, and not Delilah? Every question raised a further series of questions, and no question had a reasonable answer.
“Are you well?” Helena asked tentatively. “You look very pale. What do the letters say?”
“A friend of mine has done something ridiculous,” Kitty said, shaking her head.
“Ridiculous? Whatever do you mean? Something immoral? Illegal?” Helena asked under her breath.
“No, something completely and utterly impossible." Kitty said. "He must have pushed himself beyond the limit of his own physical capacity in order to perform such a stunt. And now he is in hospital in London, possibly dying because of it. I don't even know why.”
Helena's eyes lit up a little. “He? Is this the earl you were speaking of?”
Kitty averted her gaze, blushing
“You ought to go to him,” Helena said gently. “We are not far from London by train. You can come back in good time for my surgery,” she said.
Kitty forced a smile. “No, I promised that I would be here with you. He has friends and family to support him. He will be fine.”
“I have friends and family too. And you love him. I can tell,” Helena replied.
“But he does not love me, and he is not my responsibility. Loving him does not make him my husband,” Kitty insisted.
Helena sighed. “Kitty... Girls like you and I do not fall in love. We are not loved. We do not go visiting, or get suitors. You either get better, or you live with your condition and die a spinster. You have done so well to escape all the traps of life with a condition, except that one. That final hurdle. If you can successfully marry, then imagine the role model you shall be to other girls with conditions. Imagine the change of heart you could bring to young men. If you have a chance of marrying an earl, nothing would make me happier than seeing you do so. Go to him.”
“I should not leave you alone,” Kitty replied, feeling guilty. “Not as you are now. You could die.”
“So could he. I could die in a week, when my surgery takes place. He could die any day now. And he could also recover and see you by his bedside and fall head over heels in love with you. Do you wish to pass up that opportunity?” Helena asked.
Looking into her friend's eyes, Kitty could tell that Helena said this in earnest. She wanted to see Kitty happy. She wanted to see Kitty succeed. She wanted to see Kitty marry the earl. And however slim the possibility, Helena was going to hold onto it. Because if Kitty could get married, that offered a shred of hope for other girls with lifelong conditions. A shred of hope for girls like Helena, who had lived their whole lives believing they were unlovable, unwomanly, useless to anyone.
“Go to him. It will be fine,” Helena repeated. “You are right, after all. My family care for me. They will look after me. I shall be fine. And you will probably be able to come back in time to see me into surgery, one way or another.”
Kitty wanted to break down and cry. Two of her friends could be at death's door, and she had to choose between them? This was not right. She wanted to care for them both. To be there for them both. If she could get them into the same hospital she would be so deeply grateful.
But Helena needed the fresh air and care at Brighton to help her build up strength for her surgery. And the earl could not be removed, not if he was in such a poor condition as the letter described. So she had to choose. And Helena had made a valid point. Helena's stay in hospital was scheduled. The earl's was happening right now.