Chapter 18

Eighteen

THE POPPY ROOM

I wasn’t proud that when I popped off the lounge after Ian raced out, I froze.

This was because thoughts collided in my head as adrenalin rushed in my veins, and I couldn’t decide what to do.

That scream was close. It was horrible. Ian had rushed toward it. I wanted to know if Lou was all right. I wanted to know if Ian was all right. But I wondered if first, I should find a weapon or call the police.

My decision was made for me when I heard Ian roar, “Daphne!”

I dashed out and instinctively went right to the Poppy Room.

Lou’s door was open, and when I arrived, my chest caved in.

Rebecca was standing, face ashen and filled with fear, a phone to her ear, her eyes cast down to Ian, who was kneeling over Lou.

Lou.

She was in her robe and thrashing on the floor, only the whites of her eyes showing, the skin of her neck and jaw stretched thin in a grimace, the rest of her body uncontrollably convulsing.

It was hideous.

It looked painful.

I dropped instantly to my knees and reached out to her, but Ian barked, “No!”

In a panic, I looked to him.

“You could hurt yourself, you could hurt her,” he said curtly. “We just need to try to make sure she doesn’t run into anything. Does she have epilepsy?”

“No,” I forced out through a tight throat.

“Has this happened before?”

“No. Never. Or at least, not that I know.”

Rebecca got closer. “The ambulance is coming.”

“Pull the bell. Get me a wet cloth,” Ian issued orders to her, then to me. “Darling, go grab a pillow and that throw from the couch.”

Like Rebecca, I rushed to do what he said.

When I came back, again on my knees, helpless to do anything else, I kept flicking her robe over her legs as she kicked it off, doing this so she remained decent. It was unimportant, but I had to do something.

It didn’t take long for the seizure to start to subside.

Immediately, and with great care, Ian lifted her head and put the pillow under it.

Equally immediately, I moved to lay on my belly on the floor beside her.

I grabbed her hand and felt it covered when Ian tossed the throw to cover her.

Her head fell to the side toward me.

It was a little death to see she was unfocused and so out of it, she was drooling.

Ian tucked the throw around her while I squeezed her hand and whispered, “I’m here, Lou. We’re here. We’ve got you.”

Gently, Ian reached in and wiped the spittle from her mouth with a wet cloth.

“I brought the tray up from the kitchen. Nibbles and wine from Bonnie. Something to tide her over until we brought her dinner. We were chatting,” Rebecca babbled. “She was totally normal. Smiling. Joking about how Bonnie was trying to fatten her up. Then she got this faraway look on her face. It was terrifying. She was standing there, but she wasn’t in the room at all. After that, she just went down.”

“You need some fattening up, Lou,” I told her, my voice trembling. “Bonnie’s doing God’s work.”

My world righted when, weakly, her fingers tensed around mine.

“There you are, lovely,” I whispered, close to tears as her gaze, still very hazy, started to focus on mine. “I’ll pop the cork in a second. We’ll hang down here.”

“I feel weird,” she mumbled.

“That’s what happens when you thrash around on the floor, beautiful,” I quipped, but it fell flat, mostly because my voice was still trembling, and nothing was funny about this. “Just hang tight. Help is on the way.”

“Have Jack bring my car ’round,” I heard Ian demand, and I didn’t move, just angled my gaze to see he was talking to Brittany, who was standing at the door, eyes wide and staring at Lou and me. “Tell Stevenson an ambulance is coming. And gather Miss Ryan’s coat and purse.”

Brittany didn’t move, and I was too in my emotions to process how there seemed to be something strange, both chagrined and morbidly curious, written on her face as she stared down at Lou.

“Brittany!” Ian clipped impatiently. “Now!”

She jerked then took off.

I went back to Lou. “Ian’s being bossy. It’s very sexy.”

“Has he kissed you yet?” she whispered.

Ah.

There was my girl.

“We have a date for that. Tonight, in the Conservatory. I guess it’s a thing in gothic mansions, the tortured viscount making his long-suffering heroine wait for his embrace. After that, we’re going to murder Colonel Mustard in the Ruby Room with a pipe then go meet Professor Plum for a pint. I’m psyched.”

I was relieved to feel her fingers close more firmly around mine as she muttered, “Always the card.”

“Honey, has this happened to you before?” I asked carefully.

She closed her eyes like she was exhausted, and she probably was. All that movement, it was unnatural. It had to hurt and take tons of energy.

“No,” she answered.

“Okay, rest. Help will be here soon, and we’ll figure out what’s happening.”

She opened her eyes. “You need to get up. You can’t stay down here with me.”

“Watch me.”

“Then I’ll get up.”

She made to move but Ian’s hand came to her shoulder, and he said gently, “No, Lou. Please stay where you are, love. I want professionals checking you out before we go anywhere.”

The house was far away from everything. It’d take half an hour for them to get there and the draft on the floor was something fierce. Not to mention, the silk, likely priceless rug we were lying on was thick, but it was damned uncomfortable.

I lifted my head to protest. “You can carry her to the bed.”

“I can, but I don’t know if she did harm to herself, darling,” he said tenderly, the same expression on his handsome face, and I really wanted to take time to enjoy it, but I couldn’t. “There’s an ambulance service in the village. They’ll be here in only five minutes more. I promise.”

This mysterious village must be a lot closer than I expected and somewhere tucked away, since I saw hide nor hair of it driving to the house or on my walk on the moor.

“My goodness!” I heard Stevenson exclaim.

Ian rose. “Good. You’re here.”

He moved away.

I squeezed Lou’s hand again because her gaze had grown distant.

She focused on me, and I let out the breath I started to hold. I was terrified she’d seize again.

“Did you hear that? Five minutes,” I told her.

Her fingers tightened around mine so hard, there was pain, and shock, since I didn’t think she had that in her right then.

“You know I love you,” she said, a fierce undercurrent running alongside her feeble tone.

For the second time since I hit that room, my chest caved in.

“Shut up.”

“You do, right?”

Tears stung my eyes.

“Yes, Lou. And you’re going to be fine. Just fine. Four minutes now, okay?”

“Okay, lovey.”

I lay on the floor, held her hand and her gaze.

Ian had not lied.

Within a few minutes, rolling a stretcher with them, the paramedics were there.

* * *

The good news about hanging with an up-and-coming earl at the local community hospital while your stepmother was being looked over by doctors, you didn’t have to brush shoulders with the rabble in any old waiting room.

We were in an office. A nice one. Probably the hospital administrator’s or the head of medicine. Likely a doctor if the degrees on the wall were a reliable clue. And we’d been brought coffee and biscuits.

I didn’t touch them.

I stared out the window at the drab parking lot while night descended.

Ian and I had been mostly silent as we followed the ambulance to the hospital, and I remained so as he dealt with things for Lou, and then for me, which ended with us being ushered into this office.

Though, for the whole car ride in his fabulous Jaguar, pure Ian, he held my hand.

The door opened and I whirled to it, only for my shoulders to sag in despair when I saw it wasn’t news forthcoming about Lou. Portia and Daniel walked in, and surprise of surprises, Lady Jane was with them, carrying a large basket covered in a tea towel.

Portia rushed to me. “How is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on at the house?” she demanded.

My temper instantly flared. “I don’t know, Portia. I was more concerned with being with Lou after she flailed around on the floor in the throes of a violent seizure. Sorry you weren’t the first thing on my mind.”

She withdrew, mumbling, “No need to get nasty.”

I couldn’t deal with Portia right then.

I looked back out the window.

“Bonnie sent some sandwiches,” I heard Lady Jane say.

“Thanks, Mum,” Ian replied.

“No word yet?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, but I suspected that was because he shook his head.

Daniel inched close. “Do you need anything, Daphne?”

It was a nice thing to ask.

“I’m good, Daniel, thanks,” I answered distractedly.

I heard noises, maybe sandwiches being passed around, people settling, I didn’t much care.

You know I love you.

Why did she say that?

The door opened and I did the whirling again.

It was the doctor this time.

“Miss Ryan, Lord Alcott,” he started, glanced around and saw three women in the room, “I mean, a Daphne Ryan.”

I stepped forward. “Me. I’m here.”

“Mrs. Fernsby-Ryan would like to see you and Lord Alcott.”

I moved forward instantly, snatching my purse off the desk where I’d put it, and about an instant after that, I felt Ian’s strong, guiding hand pressed to the small of my back.

I was a woman who could make my own way, but damn, that hand felt nice right where it was.

“We’ll wait here,” I heard Lady Jane say as we left the room.

Nothing from Daniel or Portia.

Ian kept his hand on my back as the doctor led the way down the hall.

“We’re going to keep Mrs. Fernsby-Ryan with us tonight. We’re not equipped for some things in a hospital this size, but we can keep an eye on her and transport her to a bigger facility far faster if need be.”

This did not do anything to alleviate my dread.

He stopped at a door. “In here.”

I rushed by him.

It was a private room. Lou lay on the bed with oxygen tubes in her nose but that was it. No IV in her arm. No beeping machines. Though, she had one of those things clipped to the tip of one of her fingers.

And her color was good, her affect alert, though understandably she was still a bit wan. She had her robe on still, but now she had a hospital gown on under it. The covers were tucked precisely around her waist.

I stopped at the side of the bed and took her hand. “Hey.”

“Heya,” she replied, giving me a small, weird smile. She transferred it to Ian. “Hi.”

“Hello, love,” his silken voice rumbled as he came to stand at her bed opposite me. “You look better.”

She lifted one shoulder and dipped her ear to it, but that was all.

I heard the door whoosh shut behind me, looked that way, and saw the doctor had left us alone with Lou.

I turned back to her. “They’re going to keep you here tonight. Did they run any tests?”

“They didn’t need to.”

What?

“Babe, you had a seizure.”

“I also have a brain tumor.”

My head swam, and it felt like the floor buckled and the only thing that kept me standing was Lou’s strong grip on my hand.

“It’s benign, and not large,” she continued hurriedly. “My migraines were coming more often. I went to get checked. They found it about two weeks ago. I’m scheduled for surgery next month to have it out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, making grave effort to keep my voice measured.

“Well, I told my mum, dad and brother, and they lost it, so I wasn’t all fired up to do that again.”

“Oh, Lou,” I whispered.

“They told me the headaches would probably keep coming, and in extreme cases, something like what happened today would happen. I’m supposed to not stress about anything. Stress can cause flare ups and flare ups could mean anything from losing feeling in my limbs to passing out to seizures.”

Fucking Portia.

“Has any of that happened, outside of what happened this afternoon?” I queried.

“Some tingles. A lot of exhaustion. It’s why I decided to leave Duncroft. I thought I could hack it, but with Portia being Portia and the frequency of the headaches, I knew I had to throw in the towel.”

“Well, once we get you out of here tomorrow, I’ll get you home,” I decided.

“I’ve called Mum and Dad to come get me,” she said and turned to Ian. “And I’m trusting you to look after her.”

Before Ian could reply, I spoke.

“I’m coming home with you,” I declared. “It’s you who needs looking after.”

She returned to me. “That’s what I don’t need.”

“Lou—”

“I’m scared,” she whispered, breaking my heart with her tone. “And I want normal. I want people to treat me like normal. They said it’s in as good a place as it can be, for a tumor. There are hardly any good brain tumors, but if there is one, this is it. It’s called a glioma and they said it’s probably what started the migraines. It’s really slow growing and won’t spread. But they want it out, and I might have some interesting hairstyles for the next year or so, but they say it’s a relatively easy procedure and it shouldn’t return.”

She tugged my hand and kept talking.

“It’s still scary and I want everything to be normal until it has to be not normal for a while. I’m fine. You know Mum would push you out of the way anyway, so she can wait on me hand and foot and drive me crazy, all the while fighting with Dad, since he’ll be trying to do the same thing. So I’ll need you fresh when you come and relieve them after you and Ian are done taking care of things at Duncroft.”

“I’m going to stay here tonight with you, then.”

She shook her head. “No. I already called, and Mum and Dad are on their way. Go home. Have your date in the Conservatory. But please don’t murder Colonel Mustard. I need you unincarcerated to help me pick short haircuts that will look cute on me.”

I started to say something, but she tugged on my hand.

“Don’t,” Lou begged. “I don’t want people fawning over me, worrying about me. There’s going to be a time for that. Please, Daph, don’t make that time now.”

“Whatever you want, honey,” I said immediately.

“Would you like us to bring you anything?” Ian asked, so damned thoughtful. I mean, maybe he was the perfect man. “A nightgown? Book? Your phone? Can we get you some magazines and candy?”

“I’d take the magazines and candy. It might be nice to have a break from my phone.” She gestured to the one on the nightstand. “My parents have the hospital number. They can call me if they need to.” Her head moved on the pillow so she could look at me. “Would you finish packing for me? Mum and Dad and I’ll swing ’round tomorrow to get my things.”

“You got it.”

“Okay, then, not to be rude, but…go. Get on with your night, but mostly, I’m shattered, and I need a nap.”

“Okay, but just so you know, Portia, Daniel and Lady Jane are here,” I informed her.

She looked stunned. “Jane?”

I nodded. “Quick visits? Or do you want me to tell them you’re napping?”

“It’s sweet they came, but could you tell them I’m napping? I’m not being a bitch. I really am tired.”

“Absolutely.”

There wasn’t much more said. I gave her a hug. Ian kissed her cheek. He asked if she wanted one of Bonnie’s sandwiches, and she shared she wasn’t hungry. Ian promised we’d return with provisions and then we stepped out.

“We need to hurry. Boots will be closing soon. Though, it’s just around the corner,” he said.

“Okay. How about I dash out and take care of that, you talk to your mum and the kids?”

His lips twitched when I referred to Daniel and Portia as “the kids,” but he replied, “That’d be most expedient. If I’m quick enough about it, I’ll meet you at Boots.”

“Right.”

I turned to go to the hospital entrance, but he caught my wrist.

When I looked back, his gaze intent on my face, he asked, “Are you okay?”

I felt the tears threatening, so all I had in me was to whisper, “Not now, baby.”

Understanding swept his features, and God bless him, he let me go. “See you at Boots.”

I nodded and took off.

I didn’t run but I didn’t dally either. I was on a mission.

That didn’t mean my mind wasn’t filled with thoughts, mostly about the fact Colonel Mustard wasn’t going to die that night.

But I might throttle my sister.