“Easily.”
Lydia was so excited that she knew it wouldn’t take her anywhere near that long to get ready. The challenge was going to be slowing herself down enough that she didn’t embarrass herself by appearing overeager.
“Very good, then,” Margaret said with a smile that Lydia wasn’t sure she had ever seen before. There was something secretive about it.
She must be excited to show off her country house, Lydia thought, and the idea pleased her. It was wonderful to think that Margaret might be just as excited about this little trip as she was.
When she reached her bedroom, Violet wasn’t there. That was all right. Lydia knew her lady’s maid would be along shortly, since Margaret was going to let the staff know about the trip. Violet would come straight to her when she found out about it. And although she probably should have waited and let her lady’s maid do her packing for her, Lydia felt too excited not to get started.
She opened her trunk, went to her wardrobe, and began to survey her gowns, wondering which ones she ought to bring with her.
A wave of dizziness washed over her.
She shook it off—it was probably nothing, just the excitement of the day—but then a second, fiercer dizzy spell came along, and she staggered, seeing spots before her eyes.
What’s going on?
Her stomach turned. She grabbed at the back of the chair beside her, but she missed and stumbled again. This time she couldn’t catch her balance, and she fell to the floor, gasping as if she had just run a mile.
She struggled to sit up, but her limbs were as heavy as if they were made of marble. Her vision was blurry.
Something’s very wrong.
She blinked, trying to clear her vision, trying to make the spots go away, but things were only getting worse. She was no longer even certain how long she had been lying here. She tried again to sit up, but to no avail. She was far too weak.
This had come on so quickly. What kind of illness struck suddenly like this?
She tried to call out for help—she called Margaret’s name, and Violet’s—but her voice was barely audible, and she knew there was no chance of her being heard. Violet would come eventually—she would have to—but would that be soon enough?
It would have to be soon enough. She couldn’t get up. She couldn’t help herself, so she would have to depend on the hope that others would come and help her…
She blinked. She had drifted from consciousness for a moment. She knew she ought to try to stay awake until help arrived, but that was getting difficult…
Edward.
If only Edward was here right now. Not just because she needed someone to find her, but because she craved his company. In her weakened state, she could admit it to herself. She longed for him. If he was here, she would feel safe.
But he was miles and miles away, and there was no calling him back.
It was the last thought she had as the darkness closed in.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
“All right,” Edward said, setting his fork down on the table. “Enough is enough, Colin.”
Colin looked up. “What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t bring you along on this trip so that we could sit in silence, saying nothing to one another,” Edward said. “I know I’ve been busy, but I assumed that you and I would speak to one another over meals, at the very least.”
“Yes, I assumed that too,” Colin agreed. “In fact, I thought you brought me to Bath so that you would have a chance to talk to me about the feelings you have for your wife. That’s what you told me we were doing. And yet, it hasn’t happened at all since we’ve been here. When youdotalk, it’s only to discuss practicalities. You haven’t had one thing to say about what’s going on in your heart.”
“That’s why you’re not speaking to me?”
“You make it sound as if I’m refusing to speak to you. If anything, it’s the other way around, Edward. I’m keeping quiet so you’ll have room to talk about what’s been going on with you. I keep hoping that if I wait long enough, eventually you’ll say something. But you haven’t, and I’m beginning to doubt whether you will. You know, I left my wife at home in order to be here with you.”
“You think I’m ungrateful.”
“I don’t know what to think,” Colin said. “I know that I’m here, ready to listen to your thoughts about Lydia, but you won’t share them. Why? I expected that you’d start talking the moment we pulled away from Westfrey, but you haven’t spoken a word about her.”
