Page 54 of The Curious Story of the Missing Lady
“I was hoping to ride there tonight with my party. It shall be myself, my brother Eric, our two cousins, and my father.”
“Lord Briarmere is engaged in my daughter’s rescue? This is truly an honour I could never repay. He must know that. Although I shall certainly try.”
“We will hold you to it if it means bleeding it out of you.”
The man’s face went grave.
Peter smiled sheepishly. “Forgive me. You are unaware of the Lytton sense of humour. It’s not for all tastes.”
At this, the humour hit home and Lord Stamford threw his head back in a most jovial manner, joy and hope blaring equally in the wonderful sound.
When he regained his composure, Lord Stamford smiled warmly. “I am going to announce the news to my family at once, and then, dear fellow, we’re off!”
Chapter 39
The heat was unbearable. Lord Oliver groped in the dark, hoping to grab a pail of water he could throw onto it. He heard himself cry out, but no one answered. This fact – his utter solitude and its attendant melancholia – made him tremble all over. He knew he had to get up out of bed, that much was certain. Lady Madeline needed him, and he had a duty to her.
A light began as a pinpoint in his vision, and then grew in brightness, expanding quickly. It stretched and shimmered and took form until the vision resolved itself into that of Lady Madeline.
He called her by name.
“It is I,” she said, her voice ethereal.
“But,” he said, “how ...?”
“Does it matter, my love? We are together again.”
He reached for her, for all he desired was to rise and take her into his arms and never let go.
“No,” she said. “Not yet, my love. We are not wed.”
He let his head sink back onto the pillow.
She approached him. “Love is like a flame, is it not?
“I know not what you mean.”
She smiled. “A flame can be eternal. It only depends upon the forces acting on it. So, too, with love.”
“And where is your flame, Madeline?”
Her face became wan, and she turned from him.
“Madeline!” he called out.
But she only shimmered and shrunk, and her figure dissolved into a misty light that reverted back to its pinpoint state and disappeared.
Like a candle, he thought, tears rolling down his face.
The heat increased. His head was filled with lava.
#
Doctor Palmerston instructed his nurse to keep applying the cold compresses and pay no mind to the man’s ramblings.
“Fever will often produce such utterances,” he said.
He turned to see the stoic figure of Reese standing close by.
