Hunting for Silence (Storm and Silence 5)

‘Thank you!’ Throwing my arms around him, I hugged him to me fiercely. ‘Thank you.’ Never had I meant these two words more than in this moment. I held on for long, long moments—then let go and looked up into his stormy eyes.

‘But I can’t accept.’ He opened his mouth to say something, but I quickly held up a finger. ‘Not because of you. I want your help. God, how I want it. But Ella…’ I gazed at him, asking to understand. ‘I can’t do that to her. Letting someone else see her like that, someone whom she hasn’t even met yet…I can’t hurt her like that. Please understand.’

He considered—then gave a curt nod. ‘Understood.’

I breathed a sigh of relief—which was abruptly cut short when he grabbed my chin again. ‘As long as you understand that I won’t have you working yourself into an early grave.’ Dark, sea-coloured eyes burrowed into me. ‘I have plans for you, Miss Linton. Plans that require you to be above ground. I will have Karim monitor the situation. If you do not take care of yourself, I will come in and take charge of things, a proper introduction to your family be damned! Do you understand?’

I nodded, unable to get anything past the lump in my throat.

‘Adequate.’ One last time, his lips claimed mine in a fierce kiss. ‘Then do not let me detain you.’

And, stepping back, he vanished into the shadows.

I returned to my room and settled myself in a chair next to the sleeping Ella. In spite of her laboured breathing, I felt a little bit of hope blossom in my chest. How could I not feel hopeful with Mr Rikkard Ambrose on my side? Somehow, we would pull through this. And when we did, Edmund would bring my little sister joy instead of carrots. I’d make sure of that.

Reaching for a book, I leant back and began to read to keep myself awake. I didn’t want to leave Ella unsupervised in her current condition. Still, it was becoming harder and harder to keep my eyes open. With every page I turned, my eyelids became heavier and heavier. But I couldn’t fall asleep. I couldn’t fall…couldn’t…

The book hit the floor with a thud.

*~*~**~*~*

I jerked awake, my whole body aching from a night spent in an armchair. My mind still fuzzy, I tried to focus on the world around me. What had woken me so suddenly? Everything seemed to be peaceful and quiet, and—

I froze.

Too peaceful and quiet.

My head whirled around and I saw Ella lying on the bed, stiff, pale and lifeless.

‘No! Ella! Ella!’

Grabbing her by the shoulder, I started to shake her. Her cracked lips parted, letting out a soft moan.

She was alive! Alive!

Just barely.

My eyes flitted over her cracked lips, her parchment-like skin and eyes that staid tearless in spite of the pain she had to be suffering. She was drying up.

‘Oh my God, Ella, I’m so sorry! I should never have fallen asleep!’ Rushing over to the jug on the window sill that held water mixed with sugar and salt as per the doctor’s instructions, I quickly filled a cup and lifted it to her lips. Giving another groan, she turned her head away, but I held her in place firmly.

‘I’m sorry, Ella, but you have to. It’s the only thing keeping you alive right now.’

With what seemed to be a monumental effort, she opened her eyes. They looked half dead already. The will to live had long fled.

‘What if I don’t want to?’

‘Then do it for Edmund.’

A moment passed—then her trembling lips parted and I tipped the jug just enough for a little of the liquid to trickle into her parched mouth.

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. No matter how much I begged and pleaded and pestered, I was never able to get as much fluid into her as fled her body at the same time under the onslaught of the sickness. Desperate, I sent Karim to fetch the doctor,

and to the doctor’s credit he came instantly, but except for mixing me up a stronger version of the liquid I’d been feeding my little sister anyway, with a few special additions of his own, there wasn’t much he could do.

‘I’m sorry, Miss Linton,’ he told me, shaking his greying head. ‘I wish I had an answer to your prayers. But so far, a cure for cholera has eluded modern science. Do you, um…’ Nervously, he glanced over at the prone form of Ella on the bed. ‘Do you wish for me to stay and help care for her?’

Not for the first time, I was impressed at how intimidating Mr Rikkard Ambrose could be. This man knew better than most how dangerous and infectious cholera could be. Yet he still offered to stay and help. Because of his impeccable ethics? I didn’t think so.