Page 35 of One Last Whisper

My feelings must be evident in my face, because she quickly says, “Don’t take that to mean that he didn’t love her. He loved her very much. He gave her a place to stay when she got pregnant and needed help.”

“And Oliver’s father? He was never in the picture?”

Lady Cordelia sighs. “Alivia didn’t even know who he was. He was conceived during a drug-fueled orgy.”

“How awful.”

She shrugs. “It gave us Oliver. And Oliver is wonderful.” Her lip trembles, but she controls herself before she weeps. “I’ve called for a doctor. He’ll arrive within an hour.”

“That’s wonderful! Thank you, my lady.”

She shivers. “Edmund will be unhappy.”

I stifle the response I would like to make. Instead, I say, “Are you sure he will? If he loves Oliver, he would be happy to know he’s being cared for, wouldn’t he?”

She begins to pace back and forth around the room. “Edmund is a very mistrustful person. He has reason to be considering his mother and sister were both given to drugs. His father was very cold and distant. You’ve seen Edmund behave the same way, but it’s not his fault. He’s known no other way. And he wasn’t so angry until the trouble in Parliament. And now poor Sarah.”

She shivers and looks over her shoulder toward the bathroom. No doubt, she is remembering the fright she took earlier.

She stalks to the bathroom and shuts the door firmly. I watch her shoulders rise and fall as she takes several deep breaths before returning to me. She takes another deep breath before meeting my eyes. “Do you believe in ghosts, Miss Wilcox?”

I hesitate. The simple answer is no, but things are never simple, are they?

“I believe that memory is powerful,” I reply. “When a person is taken from us, especially cruelly, unfairly or violently, their memory lingers. That memory can affect people for years, decades even. Sometimes, it can affect someone for the rest of their life. To those who suffer the most from that memory, it can even manifest as an apparition or a voice.”

Help me, Mary!

I shiver and finish, “So, do I believe in an actual spirit that haunts places and targets people maliciously? No. But I believe that a memory can fester until it becomes as malignant as any disease.”

Lady Cordelia purses her lips. Clearly, this wasn't what she hoped to hear. She looks away from me and says, "I believe in ghosts. I know you must think me insane, but they are as real as you and I. I've seen them."

I must be careful. Lady Cordelia may unknowingly have information that I can use to find the answer to this mystery. However, she is fragile right now. If I push too hard, she may spiral into hysteria again. I will have to let her lead and guide her gently in the direction that will be of most use to me.

“What have you seen?” I ask.

“I saw that woman, Sarah, in the bathroom mirror the other day. She was… she was…” Lady Cordelia shudders and starts pacing again. “She looked as Inspector Hargreaves described. Exactly as he described: swollen with water and her head shattered and deformed from where it landed on the rocks. Oneeye was hanging down over her cheek, but the other one was staring right at me.”

I have made a terrible mistake. Lady Cordelia is suffering. She has no information that can help me, only a vivid nightmare that has invaded her conscious mind and poisoned her reality.

I take her hands firmly in mine. “My lady, this is the power of memory I spoke of. It has created an apparition in your mind. You feel guilty for Sarah’s death, and perhaps afraid that you might suffer the same fate. So your mind has conjured an image of the worst thing that you can possibly imagine and left it there to torment you. But it isnotreal.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” she snaps. She takes her hands from mine and paces again. “You haven’t seen them. You haven’t heard them.”

“I have,” I insist. “When the storm came, I heard them. But it was only the wind. My mind told me it was something else.”

“Do you really think it was the wind?” she scoffs. “Come, Mary. We are reasonable women, you and I. Can you honestly tell me that thewindscreamed for help and begged for mercy?”

I consider my response again. I am concerned for her mental health, but perhaps it is her physical health I should be more concerned with. “No,” I admit. “I think… My lady, it might be best for you to spend some time away. Perhaps you and Oliver could visit your family for a while. At least until there’s a satisfactory explanation for Sarah’s murder.”

“Not just Sarah,” she said. “Lady Evelyn too. And Alivia. All three of them follow me everywhere and accuse me. They accuse me of being at fault somehow, but I’m not. What could I have done?”

“My lady…”

“Edmund will protect me.” She hugs her arms tightly across her chest again. “Edmund will care for me. He always has. He will make sure that we are all right.”

I press my lips together and look away. I am nearly certain that Edmundisthe danger.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. I look back at her and see her sitting on the edge of her bed. “I think I’d like to be alone for a while,” she says. “Thank you for talking to me.”

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