10

Her body was numb and she felt a distinct wetness on her cheeks as she stared at the woman sleeping in the large bed. Lucile stood in one corner, the elderly maid struggling to hold her distraught at bay. Ginelle reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from Eloise’s face. She felt her heart splitting within her chest, a definite crack that was deafening to her ears. She was unaware that she wept for her eyes remained fixated on the woman who had given her so much within three years. She had grown to love Eloise, despite her mistrust of strangers. Eloise was the mother and sister she never had. She was her mentor; her beloved companion.

A sob erupted from her throat and she choked back the tears that stole the breath from her lungs. Her hands trembled as she brought the coverlet up to Eloise’s chin. She appeared serene and yet, it wasn’t Eloise. She was frail and frighteningly gaunt. Her cheeks were pale and sunken, the faint blush that enhanced her ivory beauty all but gone. Her hair no longer pinned in defiant curls now lay dispersed in disarray across her pillow. Her labored breathing indicated that the chest pains had returned. The suffering her beloved friend endured left Ginelle feeling utterly and hopelessly helpless. How could she show Eloise the same compassion and care she had shown her?

A sudden moan of pain jarred her alert and she stiffened as she reached out to clasp Eloise’s hand as those blue eyes fluttered open, the glint of life fading from those azure depths.

“I am here, Eloise.” Ginelle said softly, her voice cracking with despair as Eloise’s face contorted with pain.

Despite her suffering, Eloise smiled gently as her eyes shuddered closed for a brief moment before opening to rest on Ginelle. “Do not weep for me, sweeting.” Her voice was faint, barely audible for the illness was there in her weakened tone. She reached up with a frail, trembling pale hand and tenderly brushed the tears from Ginelle’s cheek.

“What s-should I do?” Ginelle cried painfully, “Tell me what I can do?” Ginelle gripped those frail hands in her own, clinging to Eloise as though to prevent death itself from stealing her friend away. “Please Eloise.” She felt her chest tightening with desperation.

Eloise took a moment to bring air into her lungs before speaking, “You have mend me in ways that I thought could not be healed.” She cupped Ginelle’s face with her trembling, clammy hand, “You have brought me much love and happiness. You are my sister.” Her arm grew heavy and she lowered it back to the mattress.

There was a shuffle outside the door and Lucile rushed from the corner to stand at her mistress side. Ginelle continued to grip that frail hand in her own, her eyes resting on Eloise, unaware of anything but her beloved sister.

Belle, the chambermaid suddenly appeared, her eyes glistening with tears for fear that her mistress has already passed. She spared a desperate glance at the bed. “What is it, Belle?” Lucile demanded.

“Master Dorian.” She said anxiously, “He’s arrived!”

Lucile pressed a shaky hand to her ample bosom and ushered the frantic maid from the chamber. “Go now and find the doctor.”

Ginelle heard nothing as she struggled to control the flood of emotions consuming her.

As the abrupt sound of footsteps ascended from the hall, Eloise whispered, “Do not be afraid to give your heart away, Ginelle.”

Lucile moved forward, gently placing her hands around Ginelle’s shoulders and pulled her to her feet. Ginelle grasped Eloise’s hands until they were wrenched away.

The door suddenly crashed open, jarring her back to the severity of the situation and the hands gripping her trembling shoulders. Her vision blurred as a man enclosed the space from the door to the bed with abrupt haste, instantly falling to his knees to grab the hands that she had been holding moments ago. The doctor, a short and small man with a peaked nose shortly followed, carrying the leather bag that contained the tools he had examined Eloise with earlier.

“Come, my pet.” Lucile said softly as she gently urged Ginelle from the room where the servants huddled, some weeping softly on the shoulders of others while several stood frozen, their faces pale and fearing the worst.

The image of Eloise lying lifeless with eyes no longer blue as the sky struck her with such force that her knees gave way as she released a heart-wrenching sob and tears flooded uncontrollably. She heard a number of gasps erupt around her and Lucile’s voice as they scrambled to catch her falling body. A man appeared at her side and as the hall spun widely out of place she was able to catch a glimpse of his face but his name would not register as she slipped into darkness.

“You are here.” The words were released on a strained gasp as Eloise attempted a smile and studied the man kneeling at her side, gripping her hand tightly. A strong, callused hand reached up and gently brushed her cheek as beads of perspiration dotted her forehead and trickled down her throat. She swallowed as a severe dryness lingered in her throat, fearing it would bring on a fit of coughs that had plagued her for several months. Her chest rose and fell with increasing difficulty for each breath brought pain as her body trembled violently. She forced a smile to her lips, wanting to ease the fear that dwelled in the depths of those glacial, blue eyes.

“Nothing would keep me from you.” His voice strained against the rising storm of affliction. His face darkened with intense wretchedness as his body stiffened with anguish and the room around him seems to grow dull and colorless, his vision suddenly gray.

Eloise reached out and gently tugged a strand of black hair from Dorian’s face. “Do not grieve for me, frère.” She paused as she struggled to bring air back into her lungs. Dorian tensed, his heart pitching in his chest but those blue eyes turned back to him, “This is a bittersweet blessing.”

His body went rigid and his dark features contorted as he was seized with maddening grief. “I will be reunited with Philip and my child.” She smiled as her eyes became distant as if peering upon those very faces.

“Eloise-“

“Promise me that you will abandon your reckless ways.” Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes and fell to wet the pillow. Her voice broke as her fingers tightened around Dorian’s. “Promise me that.” She pleaded.

“I promise.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, closing his eyes against a wave of despair threatening to consume him. He leaned back to peer down at her as she whispered one last request as a haze of pain clouded her eyes. Her fingers tightened a fraction as her plea was released on a painful breath. “Take care of Ginelle. For me, please Dorian.”

Dorian went numb as the smaller hand in his own went limp, the passion for life slowly fading from her eyes as her head lolled to one side and she breathed her last breath.

A swift and unexpected pain seized his chest as the blood rushed from his face. He was gripped with an insensibility that seeped to the bone and he sat frozen, holding that still hand as if compelling her back to life. His body shuddered with an overwhelming darkness, a swallowing blackness that came from deep within. He loosened her hand and stood to his feet, his conscience barely assessing the grieved faces surrounding him as someone, a maid, released a cry of anguish.

It wasn’t until strong, reassuring fingers gripped his shoulder that he was pulled from desolation. He averted his gaze from the bed to Lieutenant Cummings and allowed the man to take him from the room as the doctor paused at the door to examine Dorian if only for a brief moment before entering the room.

Once in the hall, he wrenched away from Cummings as a dark and ominous cloud enveloped him in a shroud of raw pain. Cummings stepped aside as his gaze followed Dorian’s rigid back down the hall, a minatory darkness following in his wake.

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