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She looked at his eyes.
Her index finger touched the back of his hand and she left a faint mark.
‘Have a pleasant journey.’ She walked out through the door.
Chapter Fourteen
A storm brewed, but not in the clouds. The sun warmed the morning, turning the day into a spring confection of promise. Bellona didn’t want to go back inside the mansion. Rhys’s carriage had just left the estate.
The air moved aside for her arrows, creating the perfect pathway for each tip, taking them so close they clustered together, fighting for room. One thunk after another. She stepped back to give herself more of a challenge. It didn’t work.
‘Miss Bellona.’ The shout screeched into Bellona’s ears.
She turned. The maid ran from the house, skirt clamped in both hands raising it enough to allow swift movement. ‘She’s fallen. She’s fallen.’ The maid stopped. ‘The duchess. Down the staircase. She won’t open her eyes.’
Fear leapt into Bellona’s chest. ‘Send a rider after Rhys’s carriage.’ She dropped the bow. ‘Let Rhys know the rider will need to continue on for the physician.’ She rushed into the house and found the duchess lying at the base of the entry staircase.
The cook’s bulk bent over the older woman, with only the duchess’s feet visible. The servant talked softly to the still form. The butler stood at the ready.
The duchess’s eyes fluttered. Then she blinked, looked around and studied her surroundings. A puff of air escaped her lips. A sigh.
‘Are you hurt?’ Bellona knelt beside her, relieved she was breathing. The lifeless form had plunged the memory of Bellona’s own mother into her heart like a knife.
The duchess pushed herself up, looking at them all, but not speaking.
‘Are you hurt?’ Bellona repeated.
The duchess held out a hand to Bellona. ‘I had thought to see what heaven might look like. You are not it.’
Bellona smiled and put her arm around the older woman, her ribs feeling as though they were hardly covered by skin. The woman winced, but managed to stand. She reached up and touched her cheekbone. A bruise would be evident soon, but for now there was only a scrape. Then she clasped her wrist and wiggled her fingers. ‘I’m fine. Fine.’ She pulled out of Bellona’s grasp and grabbed the banister. ‘I’m going to lie down.’
She took each step up the stairs with great care.
Bellona followed behind her and the cook did as well.
‘Just leave me,’ the duchess said crossly. ‘I fell. Simple enough. I didn’t watch my feet. I stumbled. Others cannot stay alive and I cannot die. I cannot die.’
The sharp turn of Cook’s head alerted Bellona that the servant was checking her reaction to the duchess’s words.
Bellona schooled her face to show no emotion, but she didn’t think it worked.
‘I’ll fix a purgative for Her Grace,’ the cook offered.
‘No. I’ll keep my bile and whatever else I have inside me right there. I just had a fainting spell. I’m fine just as I am.’
The cook looked again at Bellona, and this time she grimaced.
They’d hardly settled the duchess into a chair, with a maid sitting beside her, when Rhys burst into the sitting-room door.
‘How is she?’ he asked anxiously.
‘We don’t think she’s more injured than a few bruises.’
‘What caused her to fall?’
‘I am not sure. She said the world turned black around her.’
‘She has never fainted before...’
‘I fell, Rhys,’ the duchess snapped, eyes closed. ‘I fell. Do not worry about me. The house could burn around my ears and I would still be standing. Festering boils could appear all over my body and I would still see the sunrise every day.’
‘Mother.’ One strong reprimand.
She opened her eyes. ‘I didn’t mean for you to have to return. I am just sitting around every day, waiting for the end.’
He turned. ‘You may slap her, Bellona. We will see if she can chase you.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She shook her head. ‘I just fell down the stairs.’
‘An accident? Or on purpose?’ Rhys said grimly.
‘Neither. I was crying over Geoff. The tears were in my eyes and I had to go to the garden. I had to pick some honeysuckle. I’d almost forgotten to pick the honeysuckle for him.’ She waved her arms about, her white sleeve billowing. ‘I might not have done it on purpose, but I certainly wouldn’t have minded waking up somewhere else. When I opened my eyes, I realised the truth. I am in a different kind of purgatory. My back hurts and my face aches. My wrist burns.’ She sniffed. ‘I would like some port.’
