Page 39 of One Last Whisper

I look through the window in the dining room and see rain starting to fall. At least I’m not imagining the storm this time.

That memory causes me to frown. It occurs to me that I haven’t been keeping my wits about me any better than Lady Cordelia has. What is it about this house that is driving all of us mad?

Another howl sounds, and Theresa and I share a grim look. Those howls, whatever they are, always come as evil omens. What new horror could they be announcing now?

That question is answered a moment later when an ear-splitting shriek comes from Lady Cordelia. We rush from the kitchen, appetizers forgotten, and watch in horror as she leaps to her feet and shrieks,“Go away! Go away, damn it!”

“Cordelia!” Lord Edmund shouts. “There’s no one there!”

He tries to restrain her, and she shrieks and pulls free from his grasp. “It’s your fucking wife!” she shouts. “That bitch, Evelyn! She’s the one trying to kill me!”

Lord Edmund flinches. Doctor Thornton carefully moves his seat away from his Lordship.

“Cordelia,” Lord Edmund says, his voice low and deadly. “That is enough. Evelyn is dead.”

“And she’s come back for me!” Cordelia insists.

Tears stream down her cheeks, and there’s a wild look in her eyes.

“Cordelia, sit the hell down!” Lord Edmund thunders. “I’ve hadenough!Ghosts and legends and cries and storms: it’s driven all of you daft! My governess is snooping in my library, my servants whisper about Sarah’s ghost, and now my wife is bringing up Lady Evelyn. Enough! No one is haunting you!”

“Yes, they are!” Cordelia shrieks. “Yes. They.Are!”

She punctuates that last word by hurling a water glass at his Lordship. The rest of us cry out and move away. Lady Cordelia stands there, weeping, just as shocked as we are at her outburst but unwilling or maybe even unable to take it back.

His Lordship calmly pats at the water and commands, “Go to bed, Cordelia.”

Cordelia takes a deep breath, then says in a small tone. “Will you come to bed with me?”

“I’m bloody well fixed at the moment, aren’t I?” Lord Edmund thunders, unable to maintain his calm. “Go to bed, and I’ll be there when I’ve finished here.”

“I’ll take her to bed,” Theresa volunteers, rushing forward to help Lady Cordelia from the room. “I’ll get some warm blankets and a nice spot of tea, and everything will be all—”

“Just do it, Theresa,” Lord Edmund says, rubbing his eyes. “For the love of God, just do it.”

“Right away, my lord.”

She leads Lady Cordelia away, leaving me, his Lordship and Doctor Thornton.

Doctor Thornton breaks the silence. “Begging your pardon, Lord Edmund, but if the Lady Cordelia’s condition is this advanced, perhaps she should be placed somewhere she can be cared for properly.”

Lord Edmund stares at him in amazement. He stares at me, then laughs and stares at the doctor again. Thornton turns to me and flames beet red but doesn’t apologize for his statement.

Lord Edmund breaks the brief silence. “You just want to hospitalize my entire family, don’t you? Hell, why not me too?” My back’s been sore lately. Maybe I should go to your office and bend over so you can line it up right for me, eh, Doctor?”

In his anger, Lord Edmund is losing his bearing. Dr. Thornton swallows and says, “I apologize, my lord. It wasn’t appropriate for me to discuss Lady Cordelia’s health in front of the servants.”

"It wasn't appropriate for you to discuss it at all. You're Master Oliver's doctor, not Lady Cordelia's. For God's sake, what's been going on here? Has everyone gone daft? Mary, for the love of God, why are you still in my dining room."

I flinch. “I’m sorry, Lord Edmund. I came to check on the Lady Cordelia. I’ll leave you to your dinner.”

“Oh, to hell with it,” Lord Edmund grouses. “Dinner’s ruined anyway. I live in a house full of madwomen.”

He stalks out of the room and upstairs, presumably to tend to Lady Cordelia. Outside, lightning flashes, and a moment later, thunder rumbles and the long, mournful howl of the wind echoes through the house.

I clear the plates while Dr. Thornton stares down at his own plate. After several minutes, he gives me a brief dejected smile, then leaves the table, and I am alone.

I bring the dishes to Franny and Matilda. Their faces are ashen, and no words are exchanged between us as they begin to wash. I return to my own room, trying to make sense of the collapse I’ve just witnessed.

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