“Pardon, but, my lady, please wake.” Millard’s voice cut through the fog of her thoughts. As her unfocused regard sharpened, she noted her maid’s concerned expression. Quickly, she sat up in bed, the pale light of dawn peeking through the window shades.
“Yes? What is it?” Catherine asked, her brow furrowed. It must be some emergency for a servant to awaken her so insistently.
“My lady, it’s your grandmother.” Millard’s voice was trembling as she spoke, and Catherine noted the fear lurking in the maid’s eyes.
“Dear God, what is the matter?” Cold dread clenched Catherine’s chest. She rose from the bed and rushed to the door. Without waiting for Millard’s reply, she darted into the hall and toward her grandmother’s rooms.
Millard ran up behind her. “My lady, your dressing gown.”
Catherine paused, turning to grab the garment from her servant’s outstretched hands. It took but a moment to slide her arms into the robe and tie it.
Brooks approached just as she finished, his lips in a grim line. “I sent for a doctor as soon as we noticed something amiss, my lady.” He spoke softly, his voice hoarse as if holding back.
“Noticed what exactly?” Catherine replied, pushing past him to her grandmother’s door.
“The doctor will be here in a few minutes. We sent a servant about a quarter hour ago, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, he should come directly.”
“Grammy?” Catherine padded into the room, noting the stillness of her grandmother’s form in her bed. Her grandmother was never still, always moving, shifting, restless in the best of ways.
“Grammy?” Catherine called again, this time a little louder.
“D-ducky?” Her grandmother’s weak voice sent a chill of foreboding down Catherine’s spine.
Determined to be brave, Catherine forced a calm as she approached the bed.
“It’s me. Why are you causing such a ruckus? Always after the theatrics, aren’t you?” Catherine asked gently, playfully, even as her calm facade froze in place as she laid her hand upon her grandmother’s. The coolness of her grandmother’s skin pierced her heart.
“You know me. I have a flair for the dramatic,” her grandmother whispered, but the usual lilt to her voice was absent; rather, her voice sounded labored, as if each word was heavy.
Words stuck in Catherine’s throat. Unable to speak, she tenderly caressed her grandmother’s hand.
“I’m not sure, ducky, but I don’t feel…well.” Her voice was a mere whisper, and she narrowed her eyes. “Strange,” she murmured, her focus fading as she closed her eyes.
Desperate to keep her awake, unwilling to consider what could happen if she fell asleep, Catherine squeezed her hand. “What’s strange?”
Her grandmother’s eyes flittered opened. “Two.” Her words were a mere breath.
“Two?”
“Of you,” her grandmother said, her body relaxing.
“Grammy?” Catherine touched her shoulder, giving her a careful jiggle.
“Tired.”
The words were so soft that Catherine replayed them in her mind to make sure she understood them correctly.
“My lady?” Brooks’s voice cut through her focus.
Turning, she noted the entrance of a tall man dressed in a wrinkled black suit.
“Doctor Soffen is here to attend Lady Greatheart.”
Catherine nodded, moving to the side to allow the doctor unrestricted access to her grandmother.
“Good morning, Lady Catherine. I’m first going to monitor your grandmother’s heart. Your staff notified me of her earlier symptoms.”
Catherine nodded numbly, then turned to Brooks, realizing she was still unaware of whatever earlier symptoms had occurred.