She sank, frozen with fear. Her body seemed to become a slab of marble, cold and stiff. She couldn’t even scream. She touched the bottom of the pool, and the water reached her mouth and nostrils. Her skirts turned heavy. The air was punched out of her lungs in large bubbles, and her vision darkened at the edges. Just like that night.
But another scream reached her ears. It was Lady Upchurch. Everyone screamed as if they were all drowning…except that people started saying something that forced her to calm down and focus on the voices.
“The earl is sick!”
“Lord Ravenscroft is mad.”
“… should be locked up.”
A seizure. Because he was afraid she might get hurt.
She could swear she heard Daphne laughing, but it could be her imagination.
A combination of anger and worry sent a shock through her. It was as if an electric current rushed through her body, energising her. She forced herself to breathe deeply until her vision sharpened. Blinking, she made out the edge of the pool and the path a few inches above it, but she couldn’t see Perry. Too many people were around him.
Shaking with fear and shock, she grabbed the edge and pulled herself up. Or tried to. Her wet dress dragged her down, and a groan of frustration came out of her. Frustration was better than fear.
She tried again, her feet slipping on the wet stones. No one was paying her the slightest bit of attention, but she found a step underwater and climbed out of the pool with trembling limbs.Perry lay on the path, convulsing. None of the horrified, shocked people did anything to help. Awful.
“He has a seizure. Help me.” Dripping water, she squeezed herself through the crowd and held his head up. “Please help.”
“He’s possessed,” a man said.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Her angry tone surprised even herself.
The man glared at her, and she glared back.
“What can I do?” Lady Upchurch asked, quivering.
“Hold his legs still.”
The lady shivered, and her voluminous dress hindered her movements, but to her credit, she did her best to keep Perry’s legs still until the seizure passed.
“Lord Ravenscroft isn’t mad or possessed.” Edith raised her voice, so every person in the crowd heard her. “He simply had a convulsion?—”
“He should be in an asylum.”
“He’s dangerous,” another lady said. “Men with fits are violent.”
Edith caressed Perry’s forehead as he blinked slowly. “Not true.” Wasted breath.
People shook their heads and muttered. Ladies whispered behind their gloved hands.
Only Lady Upchurch showed compassion. “I believe you, Miss Winkworth. Poor Lord Ravenscroft.” She remained crouched next to Perry until he breathed normally.
“It’s all right, Perry,” Edith said, untying his bow tie. “The seizure has passed. You’re safe.”
He propped himself up on his elbows. “Edith, are you all right?” he stammered, his lips quivering.
“Don’t worry about me.”
The guests filed out of the Venetian garden among whispers and sideways glances thrown at Perry.
“What do you need?” Lady Upchurch asked. “A physician?”
“I think the earl needs to go home.”
The lady nodded. “I’ll have your carriage ready for you.”
