Page 57 of Taken By the Broken Duke
“I remember. But I returned early that evening, and they said you never stayed for too long too. That you had an episode and were brought back for your own safety.”
“And do you remember me returning?” Juliet demanded.
“It was… at night. I was asleep. Your door was always locked and they said you were under sedation to keep you calm, that I shouldn't try and talk to you,” Edith whispered.
Juliet wanted to scream.
It was so obvious to her! She could not understand why Edith would not sneer at the lies she had been told and release her from her prison.
A sick feeling of helplessness grew in the pit of Juliet's stomach then. What had become of Horatio? Was Frances now by his side? Would she win him over? Or was he being told that Juliet had given him up, returned to Wetherby, not wishing to see him again? How long would it be before he forgot her? More seriously, how long would her illness allow her to go on before she could see him again and tell him they were all lies? Was it the Godwin's plan to keep her prisoner until she succumbed?
“Juliet, I must go. I will be punished if I am caught here,” Edith whispered, urgently, “…but I will come back. I will sneak out of my room tonight when everyone has gone to their beds.”
“Can you get the key?” Juliet pleaded desperately.
Edith paused and Juliet could feel the girl's indecision. She had no doubt that Aunt Margaret had been very persuasive. She would have used reason and bullying to ensure Edith's cooperation. Using lies that Edith could not disprove, nor Juliet for that matter, and threatening Edith with the removal of the only thing she cared about, her books.
Juliet realized then that to gain her cousin's cooperation, she would need to be patient with the girl. Edith was seventeen, more than a child but less than a woman. Juliet would need totreat her with all the care she would show to a flighty horse, careful not to scare her off.
“If I can… I will try.”
“Thank you, Edith,” Juliet smiled. “Come and talk to me even if you can't. It will be good to hear your voice.”
Hours passed.
Mrs. Swift brought Juliet food and drink at tea time. Juliet found herself hungry and thirsty and emptied the tray she had been brought.
After a brief conversation in which Mrs. Swift calmly listed all of the things that Juliet believed to be true, and ‘proved’ them to be lies, Juliet found herself becoming sleepy. The sky was still light but she felt as though it were the end of a long, tiring day. She succumbed to slumber not long after.
When she awoke, the window was bright with sunshine and Juliet could hear birdsong. She knew, even without a clock, that she had slept the evening away, that this was the next day. Had Edith returned as she had promised? Had she whispered through the keyhole until, unable to wake Juliet, she had given up?
The conversation with Edith seemed hazy now, dream-like.
Juliet had dreamed of Horatio. That dream was vivid, but her memories of him seemed foggy. As though they were old dreams, fading in her mind as dreams always did, eventually.
Edith did not come back that day. Mrs. Swift brought trays of food to her and asked her questions about Horatio and Ravenscourt. Juliet realized that the woman was testing her, to see if she still believed that she had stayed at Ravenscourt and met the Duke.
She found the captivity exhausting.
No sooner had she been brought food and drink that she was barely able to keep her eyes open. Still, Juliet refused to give in to the pressure to admit that her memories were pure fantasy. She related everything she could remember and in as much detail as she could recall.
Everythingexceptthe intimacy.
That was her business alone, hers and Horatio's. Besides, it would make her look like a fantasist if she admitted to lying with Horatio.
As the days blurred together though, those weeks spent at Ravenscourt became harder to recall with clarity. Juliet began to wonder, at those times when she curled up to sleep, her mind foggy, whether it was actuallyshewho was wrong. Whether Mrs. Swift and the Godwins were the ones in the right.
Had she truly imagined the entire thing?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Your Grace cannot expect to recover from such an illness overnight,” said Doctor Jackton.
He was of an age with Horatio, with red hair and bright blue eyes.
“I do not expect to recover overnight, Jackton. But it has been a month and I am no closer to full health. It was a flesh wound only. I do not understand this crippling weakness!”
Horatio was standing only with the aid of a walking cane. Having ambled from his bed to the bedroom window, his knees were shaking. He sat down heavily in a window seat, looking out over the forest beyond Ravenscourt Castle. HIs hand tightened on the silver head of the cane until the metal dug into his palm.
