JAMES LEISURELY SIPPED his coffee as a footman
passed him the morning paper. He was quite exhausted
from last nights events. In the early morning hours,
another physician had been brought in, making the same
decisions as the previous one—irking James to a greater
degree. However, this physician recommended moving
the woman to a more comfortable room while applying
cool cloths to reduce the heat. James had instructed that
the chit be taken to one of the guest rooms on the upper
floor while assigning a couple of maids to tend to her
every few hours. So far, she had yet to wake up.
Shuffling through the pages, James eyes landed upon the
politics section. Parliament would be beginning soon, and
he would have to avoid all the gentlemen trying to gain
his support for whatever bill they were proposing. It was
tedious work being so influential, but it was not as though
he was doing much at the manor either. Maybe he would
invite a few of his Eton friends for a few days so they
could go hunting together. It was quite boring doing it
alone when he had neither competition nor any stakes.
Finishing up his breakfast, he walked up the stairs to his
chambers when he heard the muttering. It was coming
from the woman's room. He moved towards the noise
and pushed the door open, his eyes taking a moment to
adjust to the darkness. The curtains were drawn and he
tugged on them to let in some light. The room was empty,
except for the woman on the bed.
"-Agatha, no, don't go."
He heard the pain in her soft voice. Relieved to know she
was not dead after all the effort he had expelled the night
before, he drew closer to the bed. She was thrashing
wildly, as if someone was holding her tightly against her
will. Frowning, James drew a chair and settled in beside
her. He raised a hand and hesitantly placed it at her
temple before drawing it further back into her matted hair.
He kept quiet and continued with his comforting motions
until the thrashing stopped. James thought she had fallen
asleep but seconds later, a pair of green eyes opened
gradually and fell upon his face.
That is when she screamed so loud, nearly blowing off his
eardrums. James quickly stood up, as the chair stumbled
and fell behind him.
"Martin!"
His butler rushed through the door seconds later. James
pointed towards the bed, "Call Mrs. Shrine, she's awake.
And get the first physician from last night to come once
again."
Martin bowed, "Very well, Your Grace."
The next few minutes were a flurry of activity as his
housekeeper and a few maids stepped in the room. The
girl was still staring at them all, but she was not
screaming—that was a relief to say the least.
"Is she mute?"
Mrs. Shrine looked at him startled from his fussing. "I do
not believe so Your Grace, she screamed loud enough
that the stable masters outside must have heard."
"Fetch her water then."
***
Vivienne glanced at the scene before her, she didn't know
where she was, but she felt comfortable and safe for the
first time in weeks. She could see their mouths moving—
the tall man wearing what could only be gentlemen's
clothing and the short stout women whose hands seemed
almost maternal. However, there was a loud ringing in her
ears, and she could not make out the words that they
were saying.
A pitcher filled with a clear liquid was brought forth and
the stout woman poured some into a glass before setting
down the rest on the table beside the bed. The woman
placed it in Vivienne's hands who took a sniff—it did not
seem like poison. Bringing it up to her lips, she took a
small sip before downing the entire glass. Her hands
trembled as she went to lift the pitcher to drink more
water but the same woman who had given her the glass
in the first place assisted her.
After drinking three full glasses, Vivienne felt a greater
sense of clarity. She seemed to be in someone's house—
aristocracy based on the quality and style of clothes the
gentleman was wearing.
"Where am I?" she thought she asked but couldn't hear
her own question.
The gentleman came closer and he opened his mouth
and said something, but she could not hear. Alarm swept
through her body, why could she not hear what everyone
around her was saying?
She glanced at him in panic as tears begun to swell in her
eyes. "I cannot hear what you are saying."
Brown eyes, the colour of brandy met hers in alarm.
Based on his expression, she knew that she'd gotten her
point across. He turned towards the door and said a few
sentences, but Vivienne did not know what they were. She
watched the girls who stood huddled there left the room.
It was suddenly difficult for her to breathe, the aching
pain in her chest increased and she could feel the walls
closing in around her. Her eyes fluttered shut as she
brought her knees to her chest and curled into a ball.
What was happening to her?
Warm hands stroked her hair and she glanced up to see
the gentleman move to her side. She read one word on
his lips, "Breathe."
Vivienne took deeps breaths as the feeling of closure
subsided. She could see him mouthing something else,
but it was too fast for her comprehension. There was
another flurry of activity at the door and she only caught it
from the corner of her eyes as another figure approached
her dressed in less formal clothing while carrying a bag
filled with various items.
The man with the brown eyes and the newcomer
exchanged a few words before he proceeded to lightly
touch her shoulders. She recoiled at the touch, itching the
sheet order her body. The man's eyes met hers,
"Physician," he mouthed.
Vivienne's gaze swung to the other gentleman with the
brown eyes and he gave her a single nod, indicating she
could trust him. Hesitantly, she lowered the sheet and
allowed him to look further.
***
James watched like a hawk as Ballard tended to the girl.
He was not surprised the man returned after his prompt
dismissal the night before—after all, he was a duke, and
one did not simply deny his requests. He was however,
surprised at the chit. She was skittish, that much was
evident—it was clear that she had been through quite the
ordeal before arriving at his estate.
"Why can she not hear us?"
Ballard took a moment from his examination to answer
his question. "There could be a plethora of reasons, Your
Grace."
"Enlighten me," he demanded.
"She could have sustained a head injury, been exposed to
loud noise, or simply have problems with her ear canal
which prevents her from hearing."
"Well which was is it, damnit?"
"It probably is one of the first two options, as you've said
that the girl herself was wondering why she could not
hear."
There was a tug on his coat sleeve, and he looked down
to see the chit staring at him. Her eyes were green—the
colour of fresh, well-tended leaves. He could see the fear
and questions on her face. Hesitantly, he placed his hand
over hers—the gesture would not be considered proper in
society, but he let that thought sod off. The girl needed
reassurance and for some reasons, she had chosen him.
The least he could do was curb her fears.
His gaze spun as Ballard approached the girl with a
foreign object. His grip tightened on her fingers and the
physician continued to fuss over her ear. Not once did
she flinch but he could feel the shivers through her body.
She ignored the physician while training those hauntingly
green eyes upon his own. It was a strange feeling; James
could see the pain and anguish reflected in them and it
had an impact on him. He wanted to protect her from
whatever horrors she had witnessed.
"That should do it."
Both James and the girl turned towards the physician.
"I can hear again," she said, her voice in awe and a bit
rusty from the lack of use.
"I told you it was temporary," Ballard mumbled.
James ignored him and fixed his gaze on the chit instead.
"What is your name?"
***
Vivienne nearly shivered at the sound of his voice, it was
deep and held a note of authority she had not experience
before. She hesitated in answering his question, but the
lack of patience in his tone was evident.
"Vivienne, my Lord."
The man looked at her for a moment before his lips
turned upwards, it wasn't a smile but there was something
taunting about it. "The proper address is 'Your Grace.'"
Vivienne's heart nearly stopped, she looked at him
blankly. That meant she was in the home of a duke; this
was much worse than she'd expected. Duke's did not
have time for anyone—she would probably be thrown out
of his household back onto the streets in the next few
minutes.
Thankfully, the physician interrupted preventing her having
to reply. "It is best that she stays in bed for a few more
days, Your Grace. Although a bath may help her feel
better."
Vivienne scrunched her nose and realize for the first time
how unclean she was. There was plenty of dirt and grime
under hair nails and she could not imagine the state of
her hair. All in the presence of a duke—she was unworthy.
"—The bandages should be changed every other day but
for the most part, she seems in good health."
The duke nodded once at the physician's instructions.
"Martin will escort you out and settle the payment."
Vivienne watched as the physician left and at the last
moment her lips burst open, "Thank you," she called to his
retreating figure.
He stopped and gave her a kind smile before he left the
room as well. The duke, whose name she did not know
turned towards the portly women.
"Mrs. Shrine I place her in your care. If the situation
worsens, get someone to alert me but until then, I'll be in
my study."
Mrs. Shrine nodded and the duke left the room without
another glance. Vivienne nearly sighed with relief, there
was something snuffling about his energy which made her
weary. He filled the room with his presence and after his
departure it was clear how much more relaxed the
servants became.
"Let's get you in the bath now," Mrs. Shrine said as she
helped Vivienne from the bed.
Another maid came to her side, and they gingerly made
their way towards the bathing room. Every step of the way
was a struggle, the callouses beneath her feet had yet to
heal so she could not place much weight on the blisters.
After what seemed like forever, she settled into the bath
and slowly began cleaning herself with the water and
tonic laid at the edge. It took a while to remove all the
grime of the last few weeks but when she finally felt
clean, she left the bath to put on the plain dress that one
of the maids had left.
When she made her way back to the room, she saw that
the dirty sheets had been replaced in favour of fresh
bedding. She crawled into bed and faced the window,
thinking about Agatha. Where was her governess now?
Was she even alive? Everything had happened so quickly,
one moment she'd been receiving compliments from the
baker's son in the village and the next, there were men
and flames all around. She'd ran to her home, only to see
it ransacked and Agatha yelling at her to flee north. As
she had been instructed, Vivienne had fled as fast as she
could, until the shadows of her home disappeared from
her gaze. Somehow, after weeks of not coming across
any civilization she ended up here, wherever this place
was.
A sense of loneliness filled her, springing tears to her
eyes. She did her best to wipe them away as there was a
light knock at the door. Heart pounding, she thought it
might be the duke but instead, it was Mrs. Shrine, the
housekeeper.
"I thought you might feel like eating supper now that you
are better," she said, placing a tray filled with food in
front of her.
Vivienne shot her a weak smile, "Thank you."
As if sensing that Vivienne needed solitude, Mrs. Shrine
said, "I'll be leaving now. If you need anything ring for
me."
Vivienne nodded and watched as the door shut, leaving
her with her thoughts once more. The food remained on
the bedside and as a soft breeze made its way through
the window, she curled up into a ball clutching the
pendant at her neck, praying that Agatha was alive
somewhere— and that she would finally be safe here.