The Unconventional Governess

The folly loomed behind the flickering lightning and sheets of rain. It was as though someone had shattered the sky. And Louise was out in this.

The carriage came to a stop and he exited, then turned to help Henrietta out. Her bones were as light as a bird’s, and he felt her shiver when he put his arm around her waist. Mouth tight, he set her gently on the ground. A maid stayed in the carriage with warm blankets and hot tea, for when they returned.

He turned, trying to see past the torrential waterfall drenching the landscape. The folly’s artfully constructed columns rose like pale sentries against the smeared horizon. His brother had constructed the thing at his wife’s request. Many in the ton created ornamental buildings in their gardens. This was located a bit farther from the main house and had been designed to look like a Greek pavilion. With this wind-driven rain, however, the odds of the pavilion’s interior remaining dry were low.

He swiped his hand across his face, seeking relief from the stinging nettles of precipitation. “We shall look within,” he shouted.

Henrietta replied, her words lost in the noise. The downpour slammed against the ground, making hearing anything impossible. They trudged toward the folly, picking through debris strewn across the path.

Jacks held a lamp, but the flickering light did little to ease the way. Henrietta moved ahead of him, her steps nimble and quick. She dodged up the steps of the folly, disappearing into the cavernous blackness that was its entrance.

Dominic muttered under his breath and picked up his pace. Infuriating woman. He’d have two to worry about if she wasn’t careful. He eased into the darkness, taking the lamp from Jacks and holding it up to see inside the oval-shaped orifice. Henrietta stood in the middle, eyes wide. She shook her head when the light fell upon her face. She was speaking but the words were silently whipped away into the night.

Leaning close, he put his ear to her mouth to hear her better.

“She’s not here.” Worry crowded her syllables, and his chest tightened.

“We’ll find her.”

He straightened, pushing back the urge to hug Henrietta and tell her everything would be fine.

Before he knew what she was doing, she grabbed his hand and Jacks’s. He glanced down, and realized she was praying. Holding up the lamp, he saw that her eyes were closed and her lips were moving softly and though he could not hear her words, he felt them.

The pattering of rain and the growling of thunder all coalesced into one strange moment of peace in which he wondered if God would hear this unconventional woman. Would He answer in the way they wanted him to? He closed his eyes, her small hand enfolded in his, her fingers tiny yet strong.

And then she let go.

Jacks met his eyes, shrugging as though the foibles of woman fazed him not. For his part, Dominic just wanted to find Louise. The more time that passed, the more likely she’d caught sick.

She could be at home, of course. Just because she was missing didn’t mean she’d been outside. But the twisting pain in his gut told him otherwise. She was out here, somewhere, alone.

Henrietta had left the center circle. She explored the circumference of the folly, going from pillar to pillar, her skirts wet and dragging.

Dominic gave the lamp to Jacks. “Stay here in the middle. If Louise is out there, she’ll see your light.” He strode to the stairs and, shielding his eyes, looked out over the landscape for anything that could be construed as human. Nothing but rocks and trees and sloping land in the grayish dirge.

A shout filtered through the noise of the storm. Pivoting, Dominic saw the light swinging crazily back and forth.

He strode back into the folly and there was Louise, lying in Henrietta’s lap. They were shivering and when Henrietta looked up, he couldn’t tell whether her eyes were wet with rain or tears. Louise’s hair was plastered to her head, and violent spasms wracked her body.

He kneeled, taking her from Henrietta. His niece snuggled into him, not talking, which was worrisome in and of itself.

“Her ankle is twisted.”

Dominic followed Henrietta’s pointing finger to Louise’s right foot, which was without a shoe and garish in the flickering, black-blue light. As round as an orange, and puffy. He pulled Louise closer to his chest, beckoning with his chin for the others to follow.

Henrietta took the lamp to lead the way, and Jacks attempted to hold his coat over Louise as they stumbled back to the carriage. Jacks went in first, then Dominic handed Louise up to him. In the carriage light, her lips were tinged blue and her eyes closed. He had never seen such pale eyelids, devoid of coloration.

He helped Henrietta in, then followed. Jacks laid Louise on his lap, and every so often, her body shook with tremors. Tension rode back to the house with them, and Louise said nothing. Dominic could not recall ever feeling so helpless in his life, except in the aftermath of his own seizures. The full scope of humanity’s fragile hold on life glared at him accusingly.

Louise might have died. Could still die.