Though Lady Delphia is ailing, her fever strong, when the doctor comes to call on her, he asks her to dance with him. But is his remedy healing her or sending her further into the grave?
The Doctor
Foregoing a carriage, preferring the open air despite the cold of the summer evening descending as the sun set, the doctor sped on his black charger up the cobblestone lane toward the Ashby estate, the horse’s iron-shod hooves sending out sparks as they clanged against the stone. Not waiting for the servants to attend to his mount, the doctor alit, racing up the steps, bursting unannounced through the front door. The heels of his thick-soled riding boots clicked against the wooden floor boards as he hurried straightaway to Lady Delphia’s room, her father having summoned a doctor with great urgency.
Opening her chamber doors, the doctor frowned at the closed shutters and fire in the hearth. Before attending to Lady Delphia, he opened the wooden slats barring the night air from entering and spread apart the embers of the fire, dousing the flames. Without light, the last rays of the sun cast deep shadows in the room.
Pulling apart the white veils around the four-post bed where Lady Delphia lay, the doctor sat beside her, gazing down upon her closed eyes, her light blonde curls appearing dark against her ashen cheeks.
A few years beyond her earliest marrying age, Lady Delphia’s body struggled to cast aside the fever ailing it. Stroking her cheeks, the doctor grinned, his brown eyes devoid of worry.
“Lady Delphia. Open your eyes,” he said.
She obeyed, working mightily to focus on the tanned and clean-shaven face of the doctor. She thought his natural black hair cropped shorter than customary made him look handsome and distinguished, unlike the other suitors that called upon her, their powdered wigs braided perfectly, faces plastered with white. She adored the doctor from the moment she saw him, thinking his visage that of an angel from heaven, the Good Lord having sent him to cure her ailment.
“There we are,” he said, his voice soft, gentle, sweet. “The doctor is here.”
“Doctor or captain?” she said, seeing the epaulettes of his dark blue military jacket.
“That’s good.” He felt her forehead with the back of his hand. “You are not as feverish as I was led to believe. Shall we dance?”
“Dance? I must be delirious, Doctor.”
“Of course not, child.”
She scowled as much as her strength allowed her to.
“Forgive me, your ladyship,” he said. “It is the way I address all my patients, regardless of whether they are old and approaching their death or as vibrant as you are, in the prime of their youth.”
Lady Delphia tried to laugh, only succeeding in coughing. “My sister, who thinks she’s my mother, would not say I was vibrant.”
“And is it your sister who insists upon the shutters closed at night and open during the day with a strong fire raging in the hearth?”
“I believe so.”
“It is not daylight you need, Lady Delphia. But moonlight.”
“Ar you certain you are a doctor?”
He chuckled. “I am a doctor before a military officer. Doctor Alexander Ravenwood at your service.” Lifting her hand, he kissed the back of it, his lips moist against her dry skin.
“I’m very tired, Doctor.”
“Nonsense. You’ve had too much rest. You must sit up.”
“I can’t…”
“Sit up, child.”
Pressing her lips together at the slight rebuke, she refused his help as she sat up. Once in a seated position, she swooned. Before she collapsed back into the sheets, he grabbed her by the shoulders, steadying her, his touch helping assuage the nausea. Taking several deep breaths, she cleared her head.
“How do you feel?” he said.
“Surprisingly well. You were right.”
“Of course. I’m the doctor. But too much too soon could do more harm than good. You may rest now. I shall return. Tomorrow, you shall be on your feet.”
After easing her back down, she said, “On my feet? I haven’t the strength to walk.”
“Walk? My dear, you shall do more than walk. You shall dance.”
The following morning, Lady Sophia strode into the room followed by a servant girl carrying a tray of food to break fast. After setting it down by the bed, she tended to the absent fire, throwing her long black hair over her shoulder to keep the ends from dangling in the ashes.
Lady Sophia grimaced at the chill in the air, rubbing her bare arms.
“Gabriella, why are these shutters open? And didn’t I instruct you to keep a warm fire lit?”
“Yes, mum,” said Gabriella. “It was a large fire. And the shutters were closed when I left. Shall I close them now?”
“Leave them be,” said Lady Sophia, gazing out the window, this side of the house in shadow since it faced away from the rising sun. “Soon, there will be the summer heat.”
Gabriella found a warm coal and soon had a fire going.
“Anything else, mum?” she said.
“No. Just make sure these shutters are kept open today. Lady Delphia needs lots of sunlight and fresh air.”
Nodding, Gabriella left, scurrying away before she could be scolded or ordered to do something else.
Gabriella’s father, and grandmother before him, had shown great loyalty to the Ashby estate. It would be a pity if Lady Sophia had to let the girl go. Reminiscing, Lady Sophia couldn’t recall another instance of the girl shirking her duties. Lady Sophia disregarded the times when Gabriella and Lady Delphia were but children and ran off together to play in the garden or the forest.
Against custom, the younger sister Lady Delphia began entertaining suitors prior to Lady Sophia, their father anxious to marry off his youngest and most capricious daughter before rumors of her rebellious nature spread to the city gossips.
Gabriella had also matured and had grown into a fine and beautiful young woman. Soon she’d be looking for a husband. Having no dowry, the girl couldn’t hope for much. Being a servant in a wealthy estate would help her.
A healthy dowry hadn’t abetted Lady Sophia, her wealth a deterrent it seemed to the promising bachelors of the age. Since the passing of mother, father seemed content to keep Lady Sophia at home. For his sake, she rejected the few offers she’d received. Or maybe for her own sake since the men that called upon her were aged, their wives buried. As such, both her and her father continued to sleep alone at night. And despite his enthusiastic attempts to have Lady Delphia betrothed, her failing health took its toll on him, showing to all how much he cared for the girl.
But it wasn’t for his sake that Lady Sophia toiled to bring her sister back to health. It was for her own. She loved and needed her. She sat next to her younger sister, resting the back of her hand against the feverish yet cold brow.
“Delphia, darling, how are you today?”
Lady Delphia groaned, her eyes remaining closed.
Lady Sophia sighed, brushing a blonde tress from her cheek. Though it matched the color of her sister’s hair, Lady Sophia’s curls were unnatural, needing servants aplenty and lots of heat and patience to achieve what Lady Delphia could while sleeping.
“Delphia, open your eyes. Please.”
Lady Delphia’s lips quivered as she tried to speak. “Muh, muh…mother.”
Lady Sophia shook her head. “No, dear. It’s me. Your sister Sophia. Mother is…not here.”
“Doc…doc…doctor.”
“He’ll be here. Father has gone to fetch him. You were doing much better yesterday. We thought the fever on the verge of breaking. I’m sorry. I should have looked in on you during the night. If Gabriella had kept…No, it’s my fault.”
Lady Delphia murmured something Lady Sophia couldn’t understand.
“Lie still,” said Lady Sophia. “Rest now. I shall remain here.”
Wrapping a shawl about her shoulders, Lady Sophia sat in a large, high-backed chair facing the hearth. After smoothing out the long folds of her white and green dress, keeping her ankles covered, she began reading a book. Before long, it sat open on her lap, her chin hanging to the side as she slept.
A strong wind screamed through the windows, slamming the shutters closed, blowing out the fire in a strong gust.
Lady Sophia woke, the book dropping from her lap to the floor, the large tomb thumping against the wood. Eyes wide, she stared around the darkened room for the source of the scream, her hand on her bosom as she steadied her breathing. From behind her on the bed, Lady Delphia began muttering and convulsing.
Lady Sophia sped to her sister’s side, fear gripping her upon seeing Lady Delphia’s eyes wide open, face frantic, body shaking. It took several minutes of coaxing before Lady Delphia calmed and drifted back to sleep.
“My darling sister,” said Lady Sophia, her voice a whisper, hand upon Lady Delphia’s brow, “What are we to do? And where is the doctor?”
The doctor arrived again at dusk, speeding once more toward the Ashby estate on his black charger that seemed more bred for war than simple conveyance. Letting himself in, he marched up the steps and turned down the corridor toward Lady Delphia’s room. A thin smile graced Lady Delphia’s lips upon hearing his boots thudding heavily as he approached her chamber doors.
Entering her room, he glanced at and then ignored Lady Sophia asleep in the chair by the fire.
“Lady Delphia,” he said.
Her eyes already open, she sat up, holding her hand out for him to kiss.
Parting the veil, he kissed her hand then sat beside her, caressing her cheeks. She inhaled deeply upon feeling his touch, her heart beating faster.
“You are looking well,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“I feel…I’m not sure how I feel.”
“I feel you are ready to dance.”
“Do you really think so?”
He nodded and stood. “Take my hand and come dance with me. But we must be silent as ghosts. We wouldn’t want to wake your sister.”
Deriving strength from him, she swung her bare feet to the floor, the cold wood feeling delightful against her skin.
Keeping her breathing even, she kept the nausea from creeping in as she rose to her feet. The longer she balanced atop shaky and weary legs, the more confident she grew, and the more trusting of the doctor’s council she became.
“Where shall we go?” she said, looking down at her white shift. “My nightgown isn’t suitable for a ball.”
“To the garden. The moon doesn’t care what you wear, only that we are happy dancing beneath her.”
Holding her hand, the doctor led her from the room. They crept unnoticed by the servants finishing their chores as night fell.
Once outside, she breathed in the cool night air, flexing her toes in the moist grass. The doctor bowed low before her. She curtsied, her shift gleaming in the moonlight. He put his left hand about her waist, drawing her close to him, her face inches from his. She put her a hand on his shoulder and waited for him to take her other and lead her about the garden. Before doing so, he pushed a strand of her hair away from her cheeks, freeing her deep blue eyes to stare into his dark ones, their color hidden by the night and the reflection of the moon. Without a word, they danced, the moon the conductor of the symphony, the orchestra the nightly creatures, imps and sprites that played to the rhythm of the beating of the dancer’s hearts.
Though the dancers grew not weary, the moon did, choosing at last to retire, giving over dominion of the night to the sun.
As the ruler of the day announced his arrival, Lady Delphia stopped to catch her breath, gazing toward the glow in the east where pink and red clouds hovered on the horizon, awaiting the arrival of their lord.
“We must go,” said the doctor, turning to the west.
“Please. Just a moment longer. I wish to view the sun rising.”
“We can’t. You must get to bed,” he said, tugging on her arm.
“If you insist.”
The wind seemed to insist as well, gusting shrilly, shrieking its displeasure, furling her loose nightgown, forcing her to push down its folds to keep from revealing to the doctor her bare legs.
“Come,” said the doctor, his voice forceful. “We must go now.”
She obeyed, the wind swirling stronger now, grasping at her shift. He pulled her through the gale, conducting her safely inside the manor where he put her to bed, tucking her comforter around her shivering body.
“I loathe the daylight,” he said when she’d stopped shaking, her eyes closed.
“Why?” she said, whispering, her mind drifting back to sleep, fatigue overtaking her.
“Because it is during the daylight that I can see the ghosts of the dead. And they frighten me.”
“I’m not afraid." Lady Delphia's face grew somber, eyes narrowing. "If I see my mother..."
“The living are not meant to see the dead, my darling. Rest now. Think not of these things. I shall attend to you again.”
“More dancing?”
“No. We shall go riding.”
Lady Delphia now asleep, he mounted his charger where he’d left him and raced away from the rising sun, the iron shoes on the horse’s hooves clanging against the cobblestones, sparks flashing as the charger galloped.
A strong gust blew open the shutters and threatened to extinguish the fire. Lady Sophia, having awoken to the scream of the gale, rushed to the window, pulling the shutters closed before the wind could kill the blaze in the hearth.
Dropping to her knees beside the bed, she took Lady Delphia’s hand. It felt as cold as a corpse’s. Lady Delphia’s chest rose and fell, each subsequent breath taking longer to appear than the last.
“Delphia. You mustn’t go. You must fight,” said Lady Sophia, a tear drifting down her cheek. “Please. You can’t leave me here alone.”
Carrying a tray of food, Gabriella entered the room. After setting the tray down, she helped Lady Sophia back to the chair.
“My lady,” said Gabriella, “you must eat something. You’ve not eaten these last few days.”
“Yes I have. I am not your concern.”
“But you are. Your ladyship’s health is my concern.”
“My sister’s health should be your concern.”
“Yes, mum,” said Gabriella, bowing her head, turning her attention to the fire.
“Leave us,” said Lady Sophia. “It is too warm outside for a fire.”
“Yes, mum. Shall I open the shutters?”
“Not now. Perhaps after noon.”
Gabriella bowed and headed for the door.
“Take this with you,” said Lady Sophia, indicating the food. “The smell of it is making me sick.”
Turning her back to the chair, Lady Sophia walked to the far side of Lady Delphia’s bed, lying down beside her, holding tightly to her sister’s hand.
That night, Lady Delphia awoke to the sound of iron-shod hooves ringing on the cobblestone. Rising of her own accord, she pushed open the shutters and saw the doctor arriving on his black charger. Still wearing only her nightshift, she flew down the hallways, meeting him at the front entrance.
“My darling Delphia,” he said, a wondrous grin on his face, “you are looking hale and more beautiful than ever.” Taking her hand, he kissed the back of it. She kissed him on the cheek.
“Doctor dearest, we are beyond mere formalities. Let us go riding. Whisk me away and show me the wondrous mysteries of the night.”
Seated sideways in front of him, Lady Delphia clung to his chest as the horse, hooves ringing on the stones, stormed toward the setting sun, the countryside passing by in a blur.
Leaving the main road, the doctor guided his steed through the forest.
As they rode, the wind kicked up her blonde curls and tried whispering to her. The black horse’s hooves thundering against the dirt drowned out any voice the wind uttered.
As if unafraid of the trees, the doctor spurred his charger to great speeds. Lady Delphia’s breathing quickened, keeping pace with him and the horse, not out of fear but from pure exhilaration. Keeping her eyes closed, her faced pressed to his chest, fingers clinging to his military jacket, she felt as if they moved as one. Never had she felt so alive.
Then it stopped. Her body shuddering from the ride, it took several moments for Lady Delphia to realize they no longer moved. Not caring about the impropriety of it all, she opened her eyes only so she could find his lips and kiss them. Their kiss left them breathless.
Their steed, seemingly unmoved with the effort it’d taken to carry them several leagues to the meadow, nickered and pawed the soil, anxious to be moving again. As if she weighed less than a heavenly spirit, after dismounting, the doctor plucked Lady Delphia from the saddle.
The meadow atop a rise, they could just catch the sun dropping beyond the trees.
“This is a wondrous place,” she said, her face aglow, hair golden with the dying rays.
The doctor stared unblinking toward the horizon, his face serene, his dark eyes narrowed.
“What is it?” she said.
“I never married.”
“Why not?”
“I was to meet her here. I was going to ask for her hand. However, I was commissioned in the war and had to leave the night prior and was unable to tell her. Entirely preoccupied with making ready to leave, I failed to write a letter. I never said goodbye.”
Grabbing his arm, both her hands wrapping around his, she rested her head against his shoulder.
“I’m sure she understood,” said Lady Delphia.
“Perhaps. When I returned from the war, I could not find her and none could tell me where she’d gone. I’ve attempted to come here several times, always turning back. Tonight, due to your presence, for the first time I’ve the courage to face her.”
“How do you mean?” said Lady Delphia, fearful of the answer.
“I’m afraid to face her spirit, worried she’ll be angry with me, believing I had forgotten and had forsaken her for another.”
“Her spirit? Did she die?”
“That is the only conclusion I could come to.”
“What makes you think her spirit will come here?”
“It is said that there are two times during the day when the living may speak with the dead: dusk and dawn. We were supposed to meet at sundown.”
The sun dropped below their view, the moon soon rising to take its place.
“Can we pass the night here?” said Lady Delphia.
“Nothing would bring me greater pleasure. But we must leave before sunrise.”
His bedroll spread across the grass, they lay together, staring in silence at the moon and stars above.
Though wanting to stay awake, she slept, awaking with the dawn. Trying not to wake the doctor, she sat up and studied the surrounding trees. Though all seemed peaceful, it didn’t seem right. The entire forest and meadow had grown as quiet as the inside of her mother’s sepulcher. This silence woke the doctor.
“We must leave immediately,” he said, jumping to his feet, pulling her up beside him.
They were too late.
A gentle breeze began to move the leaves of the trees before it left the forest to brush against the tall grasses of the meadow. As if the opening in the woods had corralled the wind, trapping it with its hallow, the wind swirled about the doctor and Lady Delphia, kicking up her nightshift. Welcoming the playful breeze, Lady Delphia allowed it to do as it pleased with her clothes, not caring if any saw her bare legs, hoping the doctor would and be pleased by them. However, the breeze was done playing. Gaining in strength, picking up bits of grass and bark and dirt, it circled about the two, the debris tearing at Lady Delphia’s skin, threatening to rip away her shift. Defying the wind, she laughed.
“Lay me bare as you did before,” said Lady Delphia, screaming above the sound of the gale, her voice full of spite. “I’ll not fear you.”
The doctor did not share her sentiment. Shielding his eyes with his arm, turning his face away from the wind’s onslaught, he gritted his teeth, his other hand clenching Lady Delphia’s. She stared into the wind, unheeding any damage the wind might cause to her eyes, knowing it was an unearthly torrent.
As the wind increased, the familiar voice it carried grew louder. She ignored it. This wind was trying to play tricks on her mind, trying to make her believe she heard her mother’s voice. Lady Delphia would not be fooled. She hoped the doctor wouldn’t be either, wondering whose voice he heard.
When it seemed neither would be able to tolerate the wind a second longer, it stilled, the voices it carried ceasing. The morning sun’s rays shone through the haze the wind left behind, illuminating the figure of an old woman who had materialized from the air.
Lady Delphia didn’t recognize her. The doctor did. He called to her. The woman turned her head toward the sound, her eyes passing over the doctor and Lady Delphia as if unable to see them.
“No,” said the doctor, his voice quiet, angry. “It’s not possible. This can’t be.”
His entire body shook, not from cold or fear, but from rage. Clenching his fists, he screamed.
“No. No. No!”
He let out the loudest scream Lady Delphia had ever heard. And with it, the wind began raging once more, this time twirling about the old woman, encircling her, tearing at her flesh, dissolving her into thousands of pieces, carrying her remains with it as it blew off through the forest.
This frightened Lady Delphia. “I wish to return home now.”
The doctor seethed, glaring toward the rising sun. “As you wish. It is time to leave.”
After seeing Lady Delphia safely back in her bed, the doctor departed, the clanging hooves of his charger fading into the distance.
Once her eyes closed, a strong wind blew open the shutters, threatening the flames again, carrying a harrowing voice. Lady Sophia awoke, still lying in the same spot as she had been throughout the night. Before she could wonder about the voice she heard, Gabriella slammed the shutters shut, cutting off the wind before it could smell and extinguish the fire.
“Thank you, Gabriella,” said Lady Sophia, rising to a seated position, gazing down at Lady Delphia’s face, wondering how it could look worse than before.
“I’ve brought you some food to break fast, mum," said the maidservant. "You must eat. You are not looking well.”
“Did you hear the voice?”
Gabriella stared at the floor.
“I am very well," said Lady Sophia, "and in full possession of my faculties. Answer me. Did you hear the voice?”
“No, mum. It is dawn, though.”
“So it is,” said Lady Sophia. She stood, rising too fast, needing to sit again due to her vision blackening. “Perhaps I do need a bit to eat.”
Gabriella bowed, heading for the door.
“Hold on, child,” said Lady Sophia. “What did you mean?”
“Nothing.”
Lady Sophia kept a strong focus on the young girl. “Gabriella…”
“Superstition, mum. My grandmother used to tell stories. She said, at times the living can commune with the dead, and the dead with the living. Only twice a day, when the land of the living crosses paths with the realm of the dead. Dusk…”
“And dawn,” said Lady Sophia. “What’s the significance of this time of day?”
“Dawn is when the dead commune with the living. But not all the living can hear. And dusk is when the living dance with the dead.”
Lady Sophia glanced at her sister’s face. Gabriella stared at Lady Sophia’s.
“I’m perfectly fine, Gabriella. You may conduct your daily chores now.”
Nodding, the girl shuffled out the door.
“Delphia,” said Lady Sophia, her palms embracing her own arms. “Please. Wake up.”
“I am awake,” said Lady Delphia, her voice soft yet steady.
“Sister,” said Lady Sophia, rushing to her side grasping her hand. “Thank God. But my dear, your hands are so cold." Lady Sophia moved toward the window. "The summer's heat will soon be upon us.”
“Shutters,” said Lady Delphia.
“What?”
“Leave them closed.”
Lady Sophia obeyed, returning to the bedside.
“It’s mother’s voice. She forsook me once. Now she won't leave me be and haunts my dreams,” said Lady Delphia, struggling to rise, managing only to get up on one elbow before passing out. Lady Sophia could do nothing to rouse her.
All that day, Lady Sophia paced the room, never sitting, never eating. As day began to give sway to the night, Lady Sophia knelt beside the bed. Taking her sister’s hands in hers, she began praying. The respite from pacing was all it took for Lady Sophia to pass into slumber, her face dropping atop her folded hands.
Lady Delphia awoke. Shaking the fatigue from her head, she sat up. Lady Sophia knelt beside the bed asleep, her body slowly collapsing to the floor. Lady Delphia caught her, easing her gently down, stuffing a pillow beneath her head. She’d only just placed a blanket atop Lady Sophia when the sound of iron ringing against stone reached Lady Delphia’s ears.
“He’s coming.”
Racing to the window, she saw a black horse and rider stopping below. Smiling grandly, the doctor blew her a kiss. She slammed the shutters closed.
“Don’t let him in,” yelled Lady Delphia, hoping to alert the servants. “Keep the door barred.”
No one heard her. He gained entrance, calling to her from inside the house.
“Delphia, my darling girl, how is that dear sister of yours?”
Lady Delphia glanced at her sister, noticing how ashen her face appeared.
“He’s come for her.”
Running out the door, she locked it, taking the key with her, despite it seeming a silly thing to do. Fleeing down the hallway, she heard him call her name again, his voice echoing off the walls.
“Lady Delphia, why do you run from me?”
Trying to maintain control, she took deep breathes. “You and I can never be. We will never be. You are dead!”
“Nonsense,” he said, laughter in his voice. “I’m as alive as Lady Sophia is. As your mother is.”
“You are a liar. It is you who are dead.”
“I’m not dead. I’m here to dance.”
She raced toward the far end of the house. He followed, walking after her, the thick heels of his riding boots clicking evenly along the wooden floor.
Ducking into a dark room, she locked the door behind. The heel clicking stopped just outside. The handle rattled as he tried to open it.
“Lady Delphia, if I am the one dead, do you really think a locked door can stop me?”
A bloodied hand unhindered by the wood reached through the door. Stifling a scream, she fled through the side portal, escaping through another, before arriving again in the hallway.
He stood there facing her and grinned, half his face gone.
Lady Delphia backed away. He pulled his hand out of the door, limping toward her.
“You went to war and never returned,” she said. “You died. The old woman we saw was your betrothed. She’s not dead. She’s still alive, still looking for you. I should have known. We haven’t been to war in forty years.”
“I am not the one dead.”
“Look at your hands.”
He did, staring at them as if seeing the blood on them for the first time. Then he sneered at her. “So be it. You shall join me. I’ll not wander alone.”
“I shall not join you.”
“If you shall not, then your sister will. You may still be youthful and vibrant. Not your sister. She’s well beyond marrying age. She will accept my hand.”
Lady Delphia ran, trying to block out his cackling. Unlocking her chamber door, she entered and closed it, locking it once again.
His boots echoed off the wood as he neared. The handle began rattling.
“Let us dance again beneath the moon. We can dance forever that way.”
The lock gave way, the door opening a sliver. She slammed her thin frame against it. A bloody hand reached through, grasping at her throat. Feeling his dead flesh against her living flesh, she raked her finger nails against his skin. His hand withdrew. He began slamming his body against the door. She screamed, her body shuddering under the many blows.
“Sophia! Wake up! Help me,” said Lady Delphia, glancing toward the bed to see if her sister had heard. It wasn’t only Lady Sophia she saw. Lady Delphia saw another person.
Lying in repose on the bed, hands across her breast, lay the still form of her own body, her own flesh and blood.
She called out to herself, hoping she wasn’t calling to a corpse. “Delphia! You must get up. Wake up, please.”
The body on the bed lay unmoving except for the rising and falling of her chest as she breathed.
“Mother," said Lady Delphia, breathing the supplication. "Help me.”
Nothing.
Then something. A soft breeze kissed the veil around the bed before blowing against Lady Delphia’s spirit, whispering strength into her ear. With renewed vigor, Lady Delphia hurled her spirit against the door, screaming for the doctor to leave.
As she screamed, a torrent of wind joined with her, blowing against the door and absorbing his incessant pounding against it. His black charger whinnied. Then the wind stilled. His pounding subsided. Her consciousness ceased.
She awoke to a gentle rapping against the door. Thinking he’d returned, she told him to leave.
“What was that, mum?” said Gabriella from the other side.
Lady Delphia opened her eyes, the glow of the morning sun seeping into the room. She groaned and tried to loosen her stiff neck, sore from the awkward position she had slept slumped against the door, the hard wooden panels of it her pillow.
From where she sat, she could see Lady Sophia sleeping peacefully on the floor next to the bed. The bed sat empty. Feeling her own bosom solid beneath her hands, Lady Delphia breathed a prayer of thanks to her mother.
“Mum,” said Gabriella, her knocking becoming more urgent. “Is everything all right?”
Lady Delphia used the handle to pull herself to her feet, then opened the door. “Oh, thank the good Lord,” she said.
“Your ladyship,” said Gabriella, her concern turning to surprise. “It is good to see you awake.”
“Run and get some men to help put Sophia into my bed.”
Lady Sophia securely and warmly in bed, the men left, Gabriella staying behind.
“She nearly killed herself looking after you, mum.”
“I know. It’s my fault. I should have fought harder against the doctor.”
“Who?”
“Pay it no mind.”
“This ghost, was he frightening?”
“He was handsome, Gabriella. Very handsome indeed. I was weak and became tempted.”
“Tempted to do what?”
“To become his eternal bride. But he is gone now.”
“What about Lady Sophia? Will he come for her?”
Lady Delphia smiled. “I don’t think so. But if he does, we mustn’t worry, for she is must stronger than I.”
“It’s good to see your smile again, mum. It brightens this place as if it were the sunrise itself. Are you desiring to break your fast?”
Lady Delphia nodded. Gabriella left to fetch food for her famished mistress, hurrying as if afraid the good news of Lady Delphia’s hunger might turn out to be a lie.
Sighing, Lady Delphia sat next to her sister, saying, “It’s my turn to look after you.”
But Lady Delphia hadn’t the strength to sustain the entire day, falling asleep in the large chair well before dusk.
A black horse bore the doctor to the front door of the Ashby estate where he alit before the servants tended to his phantom steed. Moments later, his boots echoed outside the sisters’ room as he neared the door. Finding it unlocked, he entered and smirked, his eyes falling upon the sleeping form of Lady Sophia, ignoring the woman asleep in the high-backed chair.
“Lady Sophia,” said the doctor, approaching the bed, parting the sheer white veil, “open your eyes.”
Lady Sophia obeyed. When she saw his handsome face, she sat up and scooted toward the headboard. “Who are you?”
“I’m Doctor Alexander Ravenwood. Shall we dance?” he said, holding out his hand.
“Doctor, have you come to call on me?”
He knelt beside the bed, bowing his head before her. “If you will permit me.”
Lady Sophia grinned, brushing a strand of her wavy blonde hair from her cheeks, lifting her dainty fingers for him to kiss.
“Very well then, Doctor. Let us dance.”
The final drawn-out breath that escaped Lady Sophia’s lips woke Lady Delphia. She rushed to her sister’s side and knew immediately. Only a shell remained.
Thinking she heard a horse, Lady Delphia fled to the window. She saw no one. She did not hear the black charger’s iron-shod hooves clanging against the cobblestone lane as he bore the doctor and his bride away.
But fading into the setting sun, Lady Delphia did see the shower of sparks the hooves left behind.
A beautiful engaging story with an interesting twist at the end. I could see it coming as soon as I read about Sophia's waning health and not wanting to eat. The wind was a little dramatic but it could've been easily part of feverish delusion.
Tasked by his Goddess to find, relocate, and then quicken, the last three Heart Tree gem-seeds, Vanx the bard, and his motley crew of adventurers, set out to do just that.
The Doctor
