by Lucy Langton
“I felt you did well by resting, having watched over her both nights and days. You have been sleep deprived for some time now.”
The maid came in, dropped the tray containing a mixture of grapes, apples, pears, and plum. She released it forcefully on the table, a way of displaying her resentment towards Isabel. Then, she clumsily lifted the tray in front of the Baron, making distracting noises with it. No one responded to her as she walked away, swaying her buttocks.
“Sorry for the embarrassment,” the Baron apologised to Isabel.
“There is no problem, My Lord. I understand her perfectly well now,” she replied with a smile, displaying her beautiful set of dentition.
The Baron was pleased with how she comported herself in the face of the embarrassment. It made him feel more endeared to her. He cast a look at her as she forked a pear into her mouth. He watched her as she gracefully chewed and swallowed it. He really wanted to engage her in a discussion but was being so careful not to involve any talk that had to do with his sister. He just wanted to be with Isabel alone and have a great evening with her. From the look of things, Isabel had performed better than he expected, and he was really happy he’d got a perfect fit for his sister.
She looked up and saw him staring at her and smiled. She would have preferred him to talk to her, and maybe, they could discuss something important rather than have him look at her that way. It seemed he did not want to talk that day but preferred to ravish her body with his eyes.
He smiled back at her and asked, “Will it be out of place to request to know what is going on in the heart of My Lady?”
She smiled again and said, “Before the heavens and the earth, my heart is as empty as space.”
“I am tempted to believe so; however, your countenance tells me otherwise,” he remarked.
She said nothing, instead, put a piece of grape into her mouth. She looked up, and their eyes met. Their eyes lingered and searched each other for what seemed an eternity before she looked away again.
“Have you fallen in love before, My Lady?” he asked her.
She shook her head and relaxed backwards.
“What about the balls, have you been to any before?” he asked again.
She nodded, then, said yes.
“How many times?”
“As many times as I can’t remember,” she replied.
“And no young man deemed you so beautiful as to woo you?”
“They did. However, I never went to any balls in search of a sweetheart. I went to dance and enjoy my youthful self,” she replied boldly.
“And if I may ask, in whose company did you go?”
“I have female friends. We could actually go together, though we always deemed it necessary to go in the company of a chaperone. I love it when it is an all-girls’ evening.” She rolled her eyes.
He loved her guts and felt pleased to have come her way. Her boldness still mesmerised him, and he resolved in his mind that one day, he would slip his ring on her finger, a way of acquiring her completely and lawfully making her his.
She took the last fruit on her plate, gently placed the fork in the tray, and shifted it towards the right. She raised her head, clasped her hands, and looked towards the Baron. He was lost in his own thoughts. It was she who brought him out of his reverie.
“My Lord, you look lost. I hope nothing is wrong?” she asked soothingly.
He smiled and said, “Not at all. I just wanted to give you the chance to enjoy your dessert in peace.”
“If you say so. Now that I am done with it, may I take a leave?”
“If that is what you want, My Lady. You have been great company. I appreciate everything you have been doing for us,” he said to her.
She was pleased to hear him appreciate her. That was a sign of humility to her. It made her heart reach out to him the more, and she knew that she might not be able to resist him further if he happened to get hold of her. Not wanting to stay longer and cause more crisis to her head, she excused herself and went away, casting him a friendly smile.
He responded and bade her goodbye, joy overflowing his heart.
Chapter 23
Isabel went straight to Lady Beatrice’s room, expecting a peaceful sleeping lady. But she found her vomiting in a plate close to the bed. Her heart reached out to the younger lady, and she tried to imagine the degree of pain she must have been undergoing. She moved closer and cradled her back as she vomited. A closer look showed her that the vomiting was mixed with blood. Isabel became weak to the marrow and was lost at what else should be done. She momentarily left Lady Beatrice and went downstairs to get water. She met the maid on the way and instructed her to go to the younger woman’s bedchamber and take care of the mess. Subsequently, she got the water and followed the maid up immediately.
Directly after she got in, she handed Lady Beatrice the cup of water; she took a gulp to rinse her mouth and expelled the water into the plate she vomited in. She took another one and repeated the same thing. When she finished, she handed the cup back to Isabel and she dropped it on the table. Then, Isabel sat beside the ailing lady, while she placed her head on her lap.
Rachel cleaned up the mess quietly and left the room without any of them talking to one another. She banged the door hard behind and walked away.
The two ladies just maintained their position, neither talking to each other. They stayed that way for a while before Lady Beatrice spoke up.
“What about my brother? Have you seen him this evening?”
“Yes. As a matter-of-fact, I was with him before I came up,” replied Isabel who felt a bit relieved that Lady Beatrice could talk.
“How is his countenance? Does he feel so bad about my condition?” she asked again.
Isabel caressed her upper arm and said, “Not really, My Lady. At least, he did not display such. He had a cheerful disposition and both of us talked and laughed.”
“You are certain he laughed?” Beatrice asked looking up to get a clue from Isabel.
She smiled and said yes.
“I have been worried about him. I’m so sure he has not got as much as a full night of sleep,” Lady Beatrice said.
“Why do you feel so, My Lady?” an astonished Isabel asked her.
“My spirit tells me so. I could feel it each night. Furthermore, he looks so haggard and anxious these days. It saddens my heart,” Lady Beatrice responded sorrowfully.
“Not at all, My Lady. I feel it is just your mind playing pranks on you. He is very much in a good mood. It might gladden your spirit to know that he was the one who sent for me,” said Isabel.
“And that is because he needed a companion. Certainly, he needed someone to talk to. Thank goodness, you are here to cheer him up. I commend you for that. I know my brother very well. In as much as he looks so fiery and cruel, beneath the disposition is a heart as soft as a butter. He feels pain more than I do.”
Isabel could only nod, not knowing what to say.
“Do you know that my brother cries sometimes?” she asked Isabel who shook her head and was awed by that great revelation.
“Yes, he does cry. One of those times before you came, I mistakenly caught him crying by his bedside. I certainly knew that I was the cause of the shedding of tears. It made me leave his room and never to go there again. The memory could not leave my head. It haunted me for days and nights. I always knew he loved me. But it was a totally different ballgame to reciprocate, owing to my condition and ignorance. The only thing I long for now, above all things, is to be in good health and quit troubling his spirit. It pains me so much that I can’t do anything about my condition and free people who love me so much.” Her voice became quaky as she made the last statement.
Isabel held her closer and caressed her body, not wanting to let her continue, at the same time, feeling that allowing her to express herself would help her to heal emotionally.
Lady Beatrice continued, “I feel so bad that I have held people in bondage because of my condition. Look at you, you are
as good as being under a house arrest because you can’t go anywhere again unless I can.”
“But, I did not complain, My Lady. I love you, and I enjoy your company,” Isabel interrupted her.
“Yes, you are right. However, you were not meant to even be here. Look at how I changed your fate and subsequently stole your freedom of movement. You love freedom and independence; I’m certain about that. But, I have denied you of that which means so much to you,” Lady Beatrice lamented.
“In as much as you are right, you are also wrong. One of life’s numerous lessons is to sacrifice some pleasure on the altar of love. Whatever I did for you and your brother, I did for love. Both of you mean a lot to me, and I’m glad I’m here with you. Even so, my brother’s carelessness brought me here, true or false?” Isabel proactively defended.
“I believe you, my sister. I just want you to make a promise to me. Will you?”
“Yes, I will. As long as your happiness and joy are guaranteed,” replied Isabel.
“Alright. Just promise not to leave my side, no matter what. You give me hope to live. I find solace in your company,” Lady Beatrice implored.
“I promise you, My Lady. Remember, we are sisters now. So, I’m here for you, my darling sister,” Isabel replied, poking her gently in the ribs.
Lady Beatrice laughed heartily as Isabel kept poking her. Afterwards, she felt relieved and thanked God for the angel without wings whom He sent her way.
***
That night...
Lord William sat on his bed, faced downwards with his palms cupping his face. No one needed a soothsayer to know that he was distraught and saddened in the spirit. He was worried about his sister and had spent so much trying to get her back to her feet. His major problem was the fact that the cause of the sickness still remained in the dark and unascertained. He knew he was capable of doing anything that would help her to recover from the ailment, even if it meant selling the estate. He had tried out every recommended drug by the physician that could cure the disease, all to no avail. He was tempted to believe that his sister was suffering from a curse, but the questions remained, who cursed her and why would she be cursed? He brushed the thought aside and sat up, focusing his gaze on the wall opposite him.
He remained in that position for some minutes, laid down on the bed and turned to the other side. Evidence that he was restless. He was a bit tired after the day’s activities, though he did not do much work on that day. He only went round the estate to make sure things were in order as he usually did once in a while. After that, he went to the neighborhood to attend the burial of a close friend’s sibling. When he came back, he requested that some fruit salad be prepared for him. He totally lost appetite and could only eat the fruit salad throughout the day. Each time he tried to eat something, the picture of his feeble sister lying on the bed filtered into his mind. She was his only family member and his responsibility as well. And the fact that she was a lady required that he should give her undivided attention and make sure she was always in a good condition. He knew that he was trying his best, however, his best was not enough as long as it was not bringing in a good and desirable result. He was a result-oriented personality; there was no doubt about it.
He sighed softly and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He turned his palm and looked at it critically, not that he was expecting to see anything anyway. Just a way of distracting his mind from thinking a lot. He sighed again and brought down his hand, yawned, and sat up.
“If I could as much as get a remedy for her illness, I know I have done the best for her,” he muttered to himself.
Then, he disheveled his hair with both hands and yawned again. He was tired of being in that room and needed to go to somewhere where his mind could be free. However, it was night. Silence had overwhelmed the estate, and everyone must be sleeping soundly in their rooms, except, probably, for the staff who usually kept vigil to protect the environment. He thought of going to his sister’s room to check on her. He felt he’d abandoned her after seeing her only once that day. Nevertheless, he had his reservations which could be based upon the fact that he did not want her to see how broken he was over her situation. Probably, his conscience felt guilty over that.
He paced his room for what looked like an hour; then, reached a conclusion on what to do, wore his upper vestment, and headed towards the door. Self-pity was never good for a man.
Worry was never something she would advise to anyone, yet that was what she was doing at the moment. Hope was almost a distant mirage in Lady Beatrice’s situation. Her heart was greatly troubled for her newly found sister. The girl had so much life ahead of her, and the uncertainty of this strange disease did nothing to soothe her fears.
Had Beatrice not insisted she sleep in her chambers tonight and get a proper night rest, she would have willingly slept in hers; she was starting to get used to the chair she used as her bed already.
The memory of her pale skin remained in her mind as she counted the beads of the rosary in her hand.
“Oh blessed Mother! Intercede on her behalf.” She prayed trying her best to remain strong for them. She could barely remember how many times she had prayed but she knew that was all she could do.
She walked to her wardrobe and changed into her nightdress while humming a hymn to herself. She thought about Lord William; it had been a while since she last saw him. He barely came out of his chambers for the past few days. She did not understand why he would decide to lock himself up and not come down, but it too was part of the reasons she was in distress. She worried about him, even though it may not have been her place to. Maybe that was how he could deal with the situation; after all, every person had their own way of dealing with grief. She made a note to herself to check up on him at dawn; right now she needed to gather her strength for the next day.
She was just about to climb into her bed when she heard a knock on the door, then a second and a third; it was the Baron. What could he be doing her at this ungodly hour of the day?
“I’m coming!” she said walking to the door. “Good evening My Lord,” she greeted when she opened the door. He was certainly not taking care of himself; she could see from his eyes that sleep had not been in his agenda while he was in hiding. He gave a small smile that made her heart leap; despite the obvious tiredness in his face, his presence still made her excited.
“Good evening, My Lady, I trust you are faring well?” he greeted. A few days without seeing her face suddenly felt like an eternity; how he longed to run his hands through her hair.
“Why yes, and you?”
“I have been okay…”He walked into the room without thinking. “That’s a lie, I have been gravely distressed, My Lady, I cannot but feel helpless in this situation. She was just recovering, and now her relapse troubles me.”
“I understand, My Lord, she gets paler by the day, and no one can do anything about this strange illness. We can only pray and hope on the Lord to heal her.”
“God hates us,” he scoffed. “Otherwise, this calamity would not have befallen us again.”
“Trails and temptations come and go, but His love will forever remain,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. She was not sure why, the physical contact gave her a little amount of comfort.
He turned to face her, and holding her hands in his, he brushed his lips against them. “Thank you, no matter what happens, I will forever be grateful you walked into our lives.”
“As will I, My Lord.” His eyes held hers spellbound to his, for a minute time ceased to exist.
Before thought could come into play, his lips met hers in one hasty move. Her senses stopped functioning; all she could think of was the feel of his lips against hers.