The Forgotten Duchess

Chapter Two | Voices

JAMES LEISURELY SIPPED his coffee as a footman passed him the morning paper. He was quite exhausted from last nights events. In the early morning hours, another physician had been brought in, making the same decisions as the previous one—irking James to a greater degree. However, this physician recommended moving the woman to a more comfortable room while applying cool cloths to reduce the heat. James had instructed that the chit be taken to one of the guest rooms on the upper floor while assigning a couple of maids to tend to her every few hours. So far, she had yet to wake up.

Shuffling through the pages, James eyes landed upon the politics section. Parliament would be beginning soon, and he would have to avoid all the gentlemen trying to gain his support for whatever bill they were proposing. It was tedious work being so influential, but it was not as though he was doing much at the manor either. Maybe he would invite a few of his Eton friends for a few days so they could go hunting together. It was quite boring doing it alone when he had neither competition nor any stakes.

Finishing up his breakfast, he walked up the stairs to his chambers when he heard the muttering. It was coming from the woman's room. He moved towards the noise and pushed the door open, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkness. The curtains were drawn and he tugged on them to let in some light. The room was empty, except for the woman on the bed.

"-Agatha, no, don't go."

He heard the pain in her soft voice. Relieved to know she was not dead after all the effort he had expelled the night before, he drew closer to the bed. She was thrashing wildly, as if someone was holding her tightly against her will. Frowning, James drew a chair and settled in beside her. He raised a hand and hesitantly placed it at her temple before drawing it further back into her matted hair.

He kept quiet and continued with his comforting motions until the thrashing stopped. James thought she had fallen asleep but seconds later, a pair of green eyes opened gradually and fell upon his face.

That is when she screamed so loud, nearly blowing off his eardrums. James quickly stood up, as the chair stumbled and fell behind him.

"Martin!"

His butler rushed through the door seconds later. James pointed towards the bed, "Call Mrs. Shrine, she's awake. And get the first physician from last night to come once again."

Martin bowed, "Very well, Your Grace."

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity as his housekeeper and a few maids stepped in the room. The girl was still staring at them all, but she was not screaming—that was a relief to say the least.

"Is she mute?"

Mrs. Shrine looked at him startled from his fussing. "I do not believe so Your Grace, she screamed loud enough that the stable masters outside must have heard."

"Fetch her water then."

***

Vivienne glanced at the scene before her, she didn't know where she was, but she felt comfortable and safe for the first time in weeks. She could see their mouths moving—the tall man wearing what could only be gentlemen's clothing and the short stout women whose hands seemed almost maternal. However, there was a loud ringing in her ears, and she could not make out the words that they were saying.

A pitcher filled with a clear liquid was brought forth and the stout woman poured some into a glass before setting down the rest on the table beside the bed. The woman placed it in Vivienne's hands who took a sniff—it did not seem like poison. Bringing it up to her lips, she took a small sip before downing the entire glass. Her hands trembled as she went to lift the pitcher to drink more water but the same woman who had given her the glass in the first place assisted her.