four
THE ‘AS SOON as you can travel’ statement turned into six weeks thanks to Perry’s weak health.
He couldn’t complain though since he’d left the bright white hospital to stay at home. Everyone, from the servants to his brother, pampered and spoiled him. Edith and her father visited him almost every day to keep him company. He was never alone.
Since Christmas was coming, Perry and Albert would leave in March when the nice weather would allow for a more pleasant trip. Perry’s condition hadn’t improved much. He couldn’t talk, his movements were jerky at best, and sometimes a buzzing noise would ring into his ears for no reason. On a positive note, his headaches had almost disappeared, and he was, well, alive.
Sitting on an armchair in the drawing room with Edith and her father, Perry focused on one of the many physical exercises he had to practise every day. Doctor’s order.
“Hold my hand as hard as you can,” Dr. Winkworth said, taking Perry’s left hand. “Use all the strength you can muster, my lord.”
Bugger. He wanted to tell Dr. Winkworth to stop calling him ‘my lord.’ He’d written down his request many times, but the older man refused to call him Perry.
Since his ability to speak had been impaired, he’d taken the habit of having a piece of paper and a pencil at hand at all times. Not that writing was simpler than speaking. He had to focus on controlling his hand and forming the letters. Sometimes he’d sweat so difficult writing was.
He put all his effort into contracting his fingers and squeezing Dr. Winkworth’s big hand as much as he could. But the result was disappointing, to say the least. He wouldn’t be able to snap a dry twig with his weak fingers.
“It’s all right, my lord.” Dr. Winkworth released him and took notes on his notepad. “You’re making progress. Your right hand is definitely stronger than the left one.”
Really? He didn’t feel any difference.
“Now try to push against my palms.” Dr. Winkworth opened his hands.
Perry took a deep breath. The good doctor was broad, tall, and strong, a stark contrast with Edith who was short. But they shared the same green eyes and steely determination.
She watched him practise with an anxious expression that was becoming her perpetual one.
He pushed with all his strength, confident that a vein was about to explode in his neck from the exertion, but the resulting movement never matched the energy he poured into it.
“That’s all right.” Dr. Winkworth released him.
“You’re doing great, Perry,” Edith said.
He smiled. Her encouraging words never failed to make him feel better. Her health had improved as well. In fact, aside from her constantly worried expression, she was the same lovely girl he’d met at Rosherville Gardens.
“When a head trauma is involved,” Dr. Winkworth said, taking notes, “the aftermaths are unpredictable. The strength of the blow being equal, each person reacts in a different way, and we don’t know why. Some patients recover very quickly. Others take longer.” He shook his head. “Your ordeal was a senseless tragedy. The only good thing about the sinking ofPrincess Aliceis that the government decided to clean up the Thames. No more polluted water.” He turned to his daughter, smiling fondly. “Would you like to specialise in head traumas, darling? You’ve become quite knowledgeable in the past months.”
Edith lowered her gaze. “I don’t know, Father. I think for now I’ll focus on getting stronger.”
Dr. Winkworth’s brow furrowed. “I have to go to the hospital, my lord. I’ll see you tomorrow for more practice.” He stuffed his notepad into his leather bag. “Darling.” He kissed his daughter’s cheek. “Don’t tire His Lordship.”
“I won’t, Father.” She sat on the chair her father had vacated. “Are you tired?”
He showed her the page of his notepad where he’d written ‘no.’ He scribbled on an empty page, “Troubles you?” hoping she’d understand.
“I’ve been thinking about the future and about you.” Her cheeks blushed.
He pointed a questioning finger at himself.
“Remember what we talked about during our walk through Rosherville Gardens? I came to the conclusion that your words were wiser than I thought.”
He shrugged before writing again. “I no wise.” Awful grammar, but that was the best he could do with his uncoordinated movements.
She laughed. “Yes, you’re very wise.”
When she laughed, her eyes sparkled like the sunlight flickering through the emerald leaves of a forest.
He shrugged again and drew a question mark.
