THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-TWO
Arabella stood shaking, her damp hair dripping down the back of the hospital’s gray nightgown. She’d nearly been drowned and scrubbed raw in an ice-cold water bath.
“Did she give you any trouble?” Dr. Gladstone asked the older nurse who’d done the scrubbing. He was well-dressed, but his voice was as cold and hard as the grip he had on Arabella’s jaw.
“She has some fight in her,” Nurse Robins said, annoyed.
Dr. Gladstone tilted Arabella’s head back and squeezed her cheeks even harder until she opened her mouth. The strain on her neck felt like a thousand pinpricks.
“We will soon cure her of that.”
Nausea roiled in her stomach at his words. There would be more of this. Terror and panic mixed, forming a rancid taste she fought to choke down.
Henry, please hurry!
Dr. Gladstone released his grip, and Arabella thanked the heavens to be free of his ruthless touch. Pulling out a gold timepiece, he spoke. “It is nearly eight. Take her to the dayroom. The other females should be just about done with their suppers, and then have them locked in their rooms by nine.” He stuffed the timepiece back into the pocket of his dark-green jacket. “Tuck her in a room somewhere, and I will arrange the paperwork to be delayed until morning.”
He handed the nurse a banknote and left the room.
“Emma,” Nurse Robins barked at the young nurse mopping up the floor, causing both her and Arabella to jump. “You heard the doctor. Take her to the dayroom and then get started on the beds.”
Emma hurried to Arabella like a frightened rabbit dashing about to avoid a hungry fox.
She took her gently by the arm, but Arabella still flinched against the sudden, searing pain. Her previous handlers had left large bruises on her upper arms that stung at the slightest touch.
Emma led her through two sets of locked doors and into a corridor lined with doors on one side and arched windows along the other.
“I’m sorry,” Emma whispered the moment they were far away from Nurse Robins. “I’ll bring you an ointment to put on the bruises before you sleep.”
Arabella swallowed against a rush of emotions. For the first time since she walked inside the hospital, she felt human. “Thank you,” she whispered in a shaky voice.
“There are a few of us who aren’t so bad,” she said with a sad smile. “In time, you’ll learn which doctors and nurses to avoid.”
They were three-quarters of the way down the corridor when Emma opened a door on the side with all the windows. “This is the dayroom. You’ll spend the majority of your free time here or on the airing grounds.”
Emma directed her toward one of the many sofas nearest a low-lit fire. Arabella nearly wept when the first billow of heat brushed her frozen skin.
“Thank you,” Arabella whispered, meeting Emma’s eyes for the first time.
Emma nodded, offering a compassionate smile.
“Emma?” a woman’s voice called from the doorway.
Arabella’s heart began to race, and she prayed that whoever it was would be more like Emma than like Nurse Robins.
“That’s Nurse Maggie,” Emma whispered, nodding at the woman who looked even older than Nurse Robins. “She’s a good one.”
Arabella let out a sigh of relief for the first time that evening.
Nurse Maggie came to stand in front of Arabella. “I will sit with the new patient until the others arrive. You go and see to your tasks so you can get home to your little one,” she said with aknowing smile.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Emma replied most eagerly, before offering Arabella a reassuring smile and leaving the room.
“What’s your name, child?” Nurse Maggie asked gently.
Arabella wanted to fall into the older woman’s arms and cry. Her tone, the way she looked at her—it was how a mother would look upon her child.
“Viola,” Arabella replied, keeping to her chosen Twelfth Night character—Sebastian’s twin sister.
“Well, Viola, let’s see if we can get your hair a little dryer and plaited.”
Tears freely rolled down Arabella’s cheeks as Nurse Maggie directed her to stand closer to the fire. The heat on her skin and the soothing feeling of a brush gently running through her hair melted away the final threads of fear and tension. For a moment, she felt safe.
“I will introduce you to my Sarah,” Nurse Maggie said as she plaited Arabella’s hair.
Arabella sucked in a breath, and her heart stilled.
Please be the Sarah I’m looking for.
“She will help you find your way in here,” Nurse Maggie finished just before other female voices sounded in the corridor.
Arabella’s eyes snapped toward the door, fear gripping her insides.
Twenty or so women, dressed in gray nightgowns like hers, filtered into the room. Some of them went straight to the single bookshelf, while others moved to different table games tucked in the quiet corners of the room. A smaller number were accompanied individually by nurses; those patients moved their lips but no words emerged.
No one looked wild or threatening.
Then Nurse Robins walked in, and the atmosphere of the room changed with her presence.
Arabella’s breathing quickened, and every muscle tensed as she waited to see what the old battle-ax would do.
“Nurse Maggie,” Nurse Robins barked in a curt and condescending tone. “Come with me.”
“Stay here, child,” Nurse Maggie whispered, gently patting Arabella’s arm. “I will return as soon as I can.”
Arabella nodded, more than willing to remain near the fire—and away from Nurse Robins—while she tried to find Sarah.
There were several girls with hair as black as Henry’s, though hair color might not play a part. Arabella had dark-brown hair while her brother’s was more of a golden brown.
She exhaled. This was going to be difficult.
“You are new,” a young girl said, coming up from behind Arabella and causing her to jump.
The girl, who couldn’t be more than twelve, had light-brown hair that fell over her shoulders and the biggest brown eyes that watched Arabella with pure fascination.
“I’m Hannah,” she said.
Arabella hesitated, uncertain what to do about her visitor. She didn’t want to draw unwanted attention, but it was growing harder to ignore Hannah’s large, endearing eyes.
“It’s nice to meet you, Hannah,” Arabella replied with a friendly smile. “My name is Viola.”
Hannah tilted her head and stared at Arabella. “She doesn’t look like a Viola, does she, Anna?”
Arabella sat in stunned silence. There was no one else around them.
“Anna is my twin sister,” Hannah said, turning a bright smile to her left. “Mother tells us apart by our hair color.” She looked back to Arabella. “Hers is much more golden than mine, don’t you think?”
“Uh, yes. Yes, it is,” Arabella replied, not having the heart to tell the girl her sister wasn’t there.
“See, I told you, Anna,” Hannah said, bouncing proudly on her toes.
She stopped, then turned her head toward the empty space next to her and giggled.
“Well?” Hannah said, turning back to Arabella.
“Pardon?” Arabella asked, not understanding.
“Aren’t you going to answer my sister’s question?” Hannah scowled.
Arabella panicked. “My apologies; I—I did not understand her question.” She glanced toward the door, hoping to see Nurse Maggie returning.
“You’re being rude,” Hannah snapped, her eyes darkening as she glared at Arabella. “Everyone here is always mean to Anna.” Her voice grew louder with every word, drawing eyes from around the room.
“No, no, you misunderstand,” Arabella said, holding up her hands to try to calm her before Nurse Robins came over. “Please, I did not—”
“Can you make me a flower, Hannah?” a girl said, coming to stand next to her.She looked slightly younger than Arabella.
She placed a book in Hannah’s arms, and Hannah giggled with excitement as she sat on the floor and opened the book. She began to round a single page, tucking the edge into the inside spine; the finished shape looked much like a flower petal.
“Hannah and Anna like flowers,” the dark-haired girl said, taking a seat on the sofa next to Arabella.
“We’ve a pretty flower garden at home,” Hannah said, her eyes focused on her task.
The dark-haired girl leaned toward Arabella and whispered, “Hannah’s twin died a few months back.”
Arabella nodded in understanding, tears quickly forming as her heart broke for the little girl who’d obviously loved her sister so much she couldn’t let her go, even in death.
“Thank you for telling me,” Arabella whispered back. “I’m Viola,” she said.
“Sarah,” the dark-haired girl replied with a soft smile.
Arabella sucked in a sudden breath, and her heart stuttered in her chest. Had she found Henry’s sister?