Chapter 24
London, England
Rain fell upon the shadowed cobblestone streets as Dr. Seward made his way to Mrs. Westenra’s townhome. He’d received the telegraph not an hour before, but when he’d heard the symptoms his previous patient, Lucy, was experiencing, he’d left the asylum at once.
Dr. Seward walked up the handful of steps leading to their townhome and knocked on the door, looking over his shoulder to the night beyond. It was barely a moment later that the door opened, and Mrs. Westenra looked up at him, fear in her eyes.
“Thank you for coming,” she said. Dr. Seward could feel the weight of her distress as she went on. “I didn’t know what to do. She’s been so ill, and it’s only getting worse—”
“Not to worry, Mrs. Westenra. We will sort this out.” He gave her a polite smile and stepped inside the home, removing his wet boots at the door and hanging his dampened jacket on the hook next to the entrance.
He picked up his doctor’s bag that he’d set down while he removed his clothing, and followed Mrs. Westenra up the tight staircase to the second floor.
The short hallway was dimly lit, the walls covered with paintings and photographs of Lucy in various stages of life. It was the reminder of her usual loveliness that made her appearance all the more alarming once Dr. Seward stepped into her bedroom.
There, in a poster bed, lay Lucy as he’d never seen her before. Her fair skin was drained of all color, the bones of her cheeks sharper than usual, and beneath her blue eyes, dark circles.
“Dr. Seward,” she said weakly, trying a smile.
“Hello, Lucy,” he said, his heart clenching at the sight. There was an empty chair next to the bed, and he eased into it, placing his doctor’s bag on the floor and taking the girl’s cool hand in his. “Your mother tells me you’ve been unwell.”
“I took her to the seaside,” Mrs. Westenra cut in from the foot of the bed. In her hands was a handkerchief she twisted around and around, tears brimming her eyes. “I thought the fresh air would help. She’s been sleepwalking again. Hasn’t been herself since Mina left.”
Dr. Seward recognized the name. “Is this Mina Murray you speak of?” She had been another patient of his some time ago.
Mrs. Westenra nodded. “She went off to marry some nobleman. That’s when all of this started.”
“It isn’t Mina’s fault,” Lucy said weakly. She turned to meet the doctor’s eyes then, a soft smile to her lips. “I’m happy for her.” Dr. Seward tried to return the smile.
“I’m not blaming Mina,” Mrs. Westenra said.
“It’s just, I can’t think of what else has been the cause.
That’s when the sleepwalking began again.
It’d been years since Lucy last dealt with that, and now it’s back but so much worse.
” A fresh wave of tears emerged and Mrs. Westenra sniffled, her cheeks flushed.
“She’s grown weaker by the day. Can’t stand for more than a minute or two without her body giving out. And yet, she’s restless in sleep.”
“Don’t fret, Mother,” Lucy said. “It’s alright. Dr. Seward will take care of me. Isn’t that right, Dr. Seward?” There was a tightness to her smile that he saw now, and he wondered if her words were more for her mother than a true belief.
“I will do everything in my power to uncover the ailment,” Dr. Seward said.
He released her hand, digging into his bag and pulling out a stethoscope. He placed the chest piece carefully over her heart, listening to the rapid, weak beating.
“Have you had a great amount of blood loss lately?” he asked. “Perhaps menorrhea that has extended far too long? Or even an accident of some sort?”
“No,” Mrs. Westenra said quickly. She frowned, looking at Lucy. Dr. Seward turned to Lucy then, who shook her head in confirmation. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, her pulse is weak, her skin pale. By the looks of it, it appears to be some sort of severe anemia.”
“Is that dangerous?” Lucy asked, concern in her eyes.
“If left untreated, it can be,” he said, drawing a gasp from Mrs. Westenra. “Don’t fret. It can be easily treated, for the most part. We’ll get you on a tonic and things should start to turn around soon.”
After promising to write the prescription, he said his goodbyes to Lucy, still unsure of the cause of such an ailment.
She hadn’t shown symptoms of amenia when he’d treated her previously, but he supposed there could have been changes to her menstrual cycle that might have resulted in such a thing. But this anemia seemed rather extreme.
Mrs. Westenra walked him down the stairs and back to the front door where he put on his boots.
“May I ask,” Dr. Seward said softly, “if you’ve told Lucy about your condition?”
Mrs. Westenra frowned. “No.”
Dr. Seward exhaled. It hardly seemed appropriate to insist the woman share the diagnosis with Lucy when the girl herself was so ill.
But Mrs. Westenra had an untreatable heart condition that would surely result in her demise, and the sooner Lucy could prepare for the loss, the better.
Though, this matter of Lucy’s illness certainly didn’t seem to be helping Mrs. Westenra’s weakening heart.
“Please don’t mention it to her,” Mrs. Westenra said. “Not now, while she’s ill.”
He nodded. “Of course. But the sooner you can tell her, the better.”
Mrs. Westenra only nodded but avoided meeting his eyes.
After saying his goodbyes to Mrs. Westenra and stepping back out into the rainy night, the events of the evening formed a pit in his stomach.