“I am bleeding.”
“Oh, my dear.” Vanya studied Brianna’s pale features with a hint of sympathy. “You know it is very possible that you were never with child?”
Brianna had, of course, considered the possibility. She’d had nothing to occupy her mind beyond brooding on the past few days. Oddly, it did not truly matter if there had ever been an actual child or not. She mourned the loss, regardless of the truth.
“Yes, I know.”
“And no doubt it is for the best.”
“No doubt.”
Vanya sighed, her expression troubled as she squeezed Brianna’s fingers so tightly her rings threatened to cut into her skin.
“Enough is enough, my dear. What can I do to please you?”
Surprising both Vanya and herself, Brianna shoved aside the heavy covers and moved to the edge of the mattress. Enough truly was enough. Ignoring the weakness in her knees and the twinge of pain in her healing shoulder, she shoved herself to her feet and charted a wobbly path to the window overlooking the garden.
It felt astonishingly refreshing to be out of the bed, despite the chill from the frosty panes, and with a pleased sigh, she sank onto the thick cushion of the window seat.
“Brianna?”
At Vanya’s prompting, Brianna turned her head to meet the older woman’s anxious gaze.
“I want to go home,” she said, simply.
“Home?” Vanya appeared strangely baffled by the request. “To England?”
“Yes.”
“But…” Giving a shake of her head, Vanya moved to sit next to Brianna on the window seat. “You must know such a thing is impossible. At least at the moment.”
Brianna blinked at the blunt refusal. “Why?”
“Not only is your health far too delicate to undertake such a journey, but the weather will not improve for some months.”
Months.
“I cannot remain here for such a length of time,” she breathed.
“I fear you have little choice.” Vanya directed a pointed glance toward the window that revealed a landscape layered with ice and snow. “Even the most seasoned traveler would balk at daring a Russian winter. You would be fortunate if the worst you suffered was being stranded at some uncomfortable inn, perhaps for weeks.”
Brianna bit her bottom lip. Like any true Englishwoman she found it difficult to comprehend just how savage and unforgiving a Russian winter could truly be. Or perhaps she simply did not want to comprehend.
Her hands clenched in her lap as she tried to avoid the knowledge she was well and truly trapped.
“There must be some means for me to find passage.”
Vanya smiled ruefully at the edge of horror in her voice. “Well, my dear, I must admit to being more than a trifle offended. Not only do you starve yourself until you are a mere wraith, but now you become hysterical at the thought you might be my guest for the next few weeks. Anyone could be forgiven for presuming that I am nothing less than a monster.”
A rueful chuckle was wrenched from Brianna. “Good lord, no one would ever believe you have treated me with anything but utter kindness, Vanya. Far more kindness than I deserve.” She reached out to pat her companion’s hand, a lump forming in her throat. “If things had been different, then perhaps…”
“If Edmond had been different, you mean?”
“Among a great many things, including myself,” Brianna muttered.
There was a brief hesitation, as if Vanya was considering her words. Then, sucking in a deep breath, she came to her decision.
“My dear, I think, if you will give him the opportunity, that Edmond will prove that he has changed,” she said, ignoring the manner in which Brianna stiffened at the mere mention of his name. “Or at least, he has the potential to change with your assistance.”