‘Err…Lill?’
‘Yes?’
‘Why do you have a curtain ring around your finger?’
I glared at her. She might be my favourite sister and about as near to death as a person could get outside of a mausoleum, but nobody insulted my engagement ring! It took a moment or two for the truth to dawn on her. When it finally did, her eyes went wide as wagon wheels.
‘You…no! You don’t mean that you…’
‘Yes.’
‘Lill! You…you…’
‘…you’ll get better?’ I finished, giving her a stern look.
‘Yes! Yes, of course I will.’
‘And you won’t fool around with Edmund before the wedding? I need a maid of honour.’
‘Lill!’
I grinned. ‘Just making sure. Although I guess you could always be my vixen of honour. Has an interesting ring to it.’
Ella blushed up to the roots of her hair, and the sight warmed me. She still had life in her! She still had fight in her! And I would make sure she didn’t give up.
‘Here.’ Grabbing the water cup from the nightstand, I held it up to her lips. ‘Drink.’
For just a moment, she hesitated—then our eyes met. We looked at each other for a long, long moment. Her eyes filled with warmth and one lone, single little tear spilled out of her eye and ran down her parched cheek.
‘I’m so happy for you, Lill.’
And she started to drink.
It was by no means over. The cholera burned as hot in Ella’s poor body as ever, turning it into a desert that soaked up every drop of water and spat out things I’d rather not think about, let alone smell. But the light was back in her eyes, and the fight back in her body. She drank whenever I told her to, and once her throat was greased, the questions started.
‘Who is he, Lill?’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Who?’
She glared at me. Or at least tried to. It was quite adorable watching my sweet little sister try and glare.
‘You know perfectly well who I mean! You haven’t shown a jot of interest in a single man since you’ve been tall enough to not need Leadfield to get you books from the upper shelves in the library! And now you tell me you’re engaged to be married? Who is he? What kind of man would catch your interest?’
Even though she didn’t say it, I heard the part she thought: and what kind of man would be that suicidal?
I grinned.
‘Well, you’ll just have to get well again to find out, won’t you?’
‘What?’
‘You heard me, little sister.’
‘This is cruel and unusual punishment!’
‘No. This is effective therapy. The bridesmaids’ dresses I have in mind for Anne and Maria will be cruel and unusual punishment.’
‘Just tell me! Please!’