Chapter One
July 1, 1819
Berkshire County, England
Ettesmere Park
Lady Sophia Winterbourne-Stratford-Forrester lifted her face to the summer breeze that was perfumed by the nearby field of wildflowers. This was, by far, her most favorite season of the year, but at the same time, it was one of the saddest, for this week marked the sixth anniversary of both the deaths of her second husband as well as her sister-in-law.
To say nothing of her father’s demise.
I suppose one cannot have life without death. That is the way of the world. Light and shadow. Happiness and grief.
“Days like this make me wish to have Cook prepare a picnic lunch so I can take myself off to an undisclosed location and simply while the day away.”
A grunt came from her brother Gilbert. He’d finally arrived at the hall a few days prior from the hunting holiday he’d taken, but he’d come alone without his wife, and as of yet, there had been no explanation for her absence.
Which was odd, but then, over the years, she’d come to expect that from the Winterbourne family.
“Without your daughter?”
“She could accompany me if she wishes, but there is comfort to be found in solitude.” Though in recent months, that had been the primary concern preying on her mind. After burying two husbands and then receiving a horrifying diagnosis from the family physician, the prospect of spending the remainder of her life alone—however long that might be—left her shaking with fear most nights after she’d shut herself away from the pitying glances of her family.
After she expired, of course, her daughter would be in the hands of her older brother or her mother, and there was nothing wrong with that, but she secretly hoped to marry one last time before death claimed her so that Hannah could have a father.
“How have you been keeping yourself, Sophia?” Concern went through Gilbert’s tone as they walked through the wildflower meadow, their pace slow to account for the limp he’d acquired during the first of the year in a riding accident. The flash of sunlight on the silver griffin head of his cane kept them company. “I’ve been home only a few days yet there seems to be an invisible trailing veil of sadness behind you, almost as if you’ve given up on life.”
In the days of their childhood, she had been close to both of her brothers. Arthur was the oldest, while Gilbert was the youngest. All three of them had golden hair, and they were still the best of friends, had been there for each other when spouses died, when children—or the lack thereof—had sent their lives shooting off into different directions, when bumps in the road of life had taken them off track, and now they were each other’s supports now that life was again moving into new territory as they grew older.
“I have good days and bad, Gil.” She bent to pluck a daisy. The petals were so soft and the bloom so fragrant. Why was there so much beauty all around her that she would never have the chance to experience for much longer? “As much as I miss both of my husbands as well as Papa, I am not anxious to meet them in the next world quite yet.”
“But it is inevitable,” her brother said softly.
“Yes.” Sophia broke off much of the flower’s stem and then tucked the bloom behind her left ear. Would she ever experience the exquisite perfection of flowers in the next existence?
“Then what the doctor told you six months ago still holds?”
“I’m afraid so.” Her chin quivered from an excess of emotion and a sheen of tears went across her vision, but she rapidly blinked and then swallowed. Now was not the time to dissolve into a watering pot. It was a waste of precious energy besides, especially while the sun was shining and the world beckoned. Once she was alone in her bed, she could take refuge in tears of fear or unfairness, but not now. “I saw Doctor Anderson last week. He stands by his original diagnosis. My heart has weakened to the point that any large shock brought on by sudden circumstances or excitement might indeed cause that organ to experience a massive attack and simply stop.”
“Is it due to your age?” His fingers tightened on the head of his cane.
“How indelicate of you to mention it.” She snorted. “I have just recently turned one and forty. While that is not young by society’s standards, I don’t feel exactly ancient.” There was much gratitude for having gained that advanced age, though.
“Papa had a bad heart.”
As if she didn’t already know such a truth. “He did.” Perhaps that was to be her fate as well. “It’s one of the reasons I believe Doctor Anderson didn’t do much in the way of an examination. He assumes I have inherited Papa’s poor health. The symptoms presented don’t appear wrong.”
“You have my sympathies.” He took her hand and threaded it through his crooked elbow, resting his atop hers. “Did he say how long you have left?”
“He did not. It could be as soon as next week or it might be a few months from now or up to six months at best, but he was quite certain I’m not long for the world.” Talking about her future—or lack thereof—had the power to steal her breath, but she drew comfort from her brother’s strength and presence. Even now her chest had tightened to the point where it hurt and she probably should cease walking for a bit, but the day was so warm and glorious that she hated to spoil it by resting.
She’d been doing that too much lately, and it was beginning to grate.
Gilbert drew her to a halt. He faced her, resting his hand on her shoulders while holding his cane. “There is no shame if you’d like to give into your feelings. You don’t need to remain strong for my sake and facing death sooner rather than later is something we all must come to grips with.”
That permission was all too tempting! “For the moment, I must retain control, else I fear I’ll be lost to the very darkness I’m frightened of.”
Nighttime, midnight, the absence of light reminded her of death that was creeping all too close. She was more alone during those times than any other with nothing else to do except think of what might be beyond that darkness… if anything.