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Throughout her blustering, I had managed to take a seat on my bed and take off my shoes.
“Hathor, I do believe you should breathe,” I said as she stared off, lost in deep thought.
“She looked horridly ill, did she not?” she asked instead. “Maybe it is fever? But people do not die of mere fever—do they?”
“As I am not a doctor, I do not know,” I replied. “And yes, she was pale. Her mother came out soon after we had and said it was a cold—”
“People do not die of colds!” She huffed and then took a seat beside me, kicking her foot. She took a deep breath and met my gaze. “I have never once seen my mama look as she did when we heard that scream. And I believe she even meant to go back inside. Whatever for, I do not know. But…but the look upon her face. It was dreadful.”
“Is that why you wished not to stay downstairs for tea?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “There is no point in sitting with her now. I swear this house transforms her somehow. The moment we entered, it was like nothing at all was wrong, and she calmly asked for tea. She would merely deflect from the matter and treat us as though we were children. I do not think I can uphold insincere colloquies at this moment.”
Sighing, she lay back on the bed, and I did the same beside her. We both lay there, looking up at the drapery of the bed in silence for a moment before she asked, “At the very least, did anyone catch your eye?”
“Even in this state, you do not yield in your quest for a husband?”
“I just wished for something good to have happened tonight. Something to take my mind off Clementina,” she replied softly. “So, any news?”
Strangely, my mind went to Dr. Darrington.
“No. None in the least,” I lied. I was lying often now but I was not sure how to put into words what I was feeling. I had no one to ask, and since Hathor seemed to think on these things more, I felt the need to press. “Though I do wonder what you meant by someone making one’s breath catch? Did you mean you stop breathing? But that can happen for any reason, can’t it?”
She looked to me and then shrugged. “I am not sure. That is merely how my mama described it. She said the moment you are smitten with someone it feels like your chest is heavy and your mind becomes silly and you believe you are walking on air.”
“Walking on air?” I repeated slowly.
“Yes, it does not make much sense to me either. So I asked Aphrodite how she knew she loved your brother and she said when she was near him all the rest of the world disappeared. Which also made no sense to me. How does a world disappear? Each person I speak to about it has some odd analogy or description I can barely understand.” She sighed tiredly and then shifted closer to me. “Do you know what Damon said?”
“You even asked your brother of such things?”
“Yes. Papa too, as one should have good references for all things, should they not?” she replied. “Anyway, Damon said, ‘She made me infuriatingly livid and yet joyous at the same time.’ And Papa said he found the greatest peace in teasing Mama. It all sounds like the loveliest bit of gibberish to me but I look forward to my own turn one day.” She giggled.
She was right, it was all gibberish and yet I found small traces of sense, all of which led me back to Dr. Darrington. But surely it could not be love. I did not know him. I had barely spoken to him. This was…something but…ugh.
Groaning, I lay back, placing my hand on my head.
“What is the matter with you now?” Hathor questioned.
“Nothing, Clementina merely came to my mind again.” Once more a lie. Lies, to cover lies. What a tribute to my name I made.
“Now I am worried once more,” she said, sitting up again, her shoulders slumped. “I shall leave you to change and rest. Should I call for the maid?”
“No, I shall manage the night. Thank you.”
“Very well. See you in the morning.”
I nodded and watched her go without additional comment, wondering how I had managed to further make a mess of my mind. Rising once more, I went to my trunk and dug inside for my journal and jewelry box. I sat staring at my journal not sure what to write of myself, and so I wrote of another having a much harder time than I.
May 10, 1813
The air this night is grim.
As a lady’s life hangs upon a limb.
She, too, is a duke’s daughter presented this season,
