Chapter Text
The rest of the week was spent by Abby tending to Lady Octavia whilst she built a rapport with her. The child had begun to refuse leaving the comforts of her bed and, in turn, developed bed sores to which Abby applied salves and dressings every couple hours. She was a fussy patient but Abby was determined and did not shy away from redirecting Lady Octavia’s behavior if she saw fit.
Meanwhile, Lord Kane was a persistent thorn in her side, hovering over her at every given chance while she observed his daughter. She poked, she prodded, and she jotted down a plethora of notes as he breathed down her neck. There was no telling how much ink Abby had went through that first week alone as she scrawled note after note detailing every symptom of the girl’s.
A fortnight of Lord Kane’s obsessive, compulsive behavior to control and question her every movement had proven to be Abby’s breaking point. A mere fourteen days she lasted before she came unraveled like a mad woman in the parlor surrounded by all of the help.
Leading up to the event, moments prior, Abby had grown impatient with Lady Octavia and impetuously insisted the child join her for a walk outside.
“No!” Lady Octavia had screamed.
“Russell will carry you.”
“I refuse!”
With a huff, Abby had stripped the blankets from Lady Octavia’s bed, exposing the child’s crooked legs that poked out from the bottom of her off-white nightgown. With Russell being nowhere in sight, Abby had took it upon herself to lift the six-year-old and commence to carry her down the stairs, all the while Lady Octavia bellowed one ear-piercing shriek after the other that were punctuated with wild gesticulations. The child may be crippled but her tenacity was unmatched. By the time Abby had reached the base of the stairs, blanched and gasping for air, the entire household had arrived to see what was causing such a clatter, including Lord Kane himself who was absolutely fuming.
“What is the meaning of this?” he barked, removing his daughter from Abby’s shaky grasp.
“We were going for a walk.”
Lord Kane’s nostrils flared as he spoke through gritted teeth. “It is apparent she does not want to go for a walk, Doctor,” he spat. “Have you not yet learned how to discern when your patient is in distress?”
“But—”
“The outdoors will not cure my daughter!” he roared.
“But I verily believe it will,” she replied with conviction.
Silence overtook the room until Lord Kane broke the calm. He snickered derisively, his nose towards the ceiling as he gawked at her with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. With a shake of his head he said to her, “You are out of your mind.”
Abby saw scarlet, her heart clamoring in her chest as the rage quickly bubbled within herself. “I am a doctor! I am a woman of science! If you refuse to surrender control to a woman and lose your daughter due to your antiquated ways then so be it!”
Lord Kane was left speechless. He was not an easy man to read. Abby could not tell if he was hurt, stunned, or simply insulted. Very rarely was the man left speechless; he often always had a cunning retort to shoot back at her. This time was different, however. She had cut deeper than she perhaps intended but she was desperate for him to hear her. Abby had heard of it before, she was sure of it. If Octavia had what Abby suspected, the outdoors would truly just might be her cure. Partially. The thought had first occurred to her like a tickle in one’s lung and the more time Abby spent examining the child, the more sure she became. Now Abby only needed the proof. Lord Kane was a man who enjoyed his concrete truths and she was going to give him that. She would see to it. For the time being, she surmised it would be best to spend the evening regaining Lady Octavia’s trust. Her eyes fell to the little girl, now in the footman’s arms as he carried her small frame up the stairs.
Abby followed right on Miles’s heels and was at Lady Octavia’s bedside straightaway. The child’s eyes were as pink as her flushed cheeks from her outburst and she was still sniffling. She clutched to her dolly as Abby pulled up a chair beside her bed. Octavia dramatically covered her ears as the scraping of the chair permeated her chambers. Abby leaned in closely and smiled at the child who stared at her with a crumpled face. The young girl absentmindedly toyed with the lavender ribbon hanging from the torso of her china doll’s dress.
Abby’s eyes fell to the porcelain doll as a wave of reminiscence washed over her. She sighed wistfully and smiled, yearning for the simple times of sitting beside the fireplace on cold winter nights, her dolls forming a circle around her as she offered them a spot of tea from her play tea set. She would sing as she brought her tiny hand and an even smaller cup up to each of their mouths: Polly put the kettle on, Polly put the kettle on, Polly put the kettle one, and let’s drink tea.
“What’s your dolly’s name?” Abby asked, her voice as soft as the smile on her face.
“Ada,” replied Octavia shyly. A smile crept up on her face. “I’m her mummy,” she said, her eyes brightening with pride.
Abby’s heart swelled. “I am sure you are a marvelous mummy to young Ada.”
“Yes. I never had a mummy,” she said sadly. “Well, I did but… I can’t remember her.”
“I am sorry, my lady. That cannot be very easy for you.”
“Thank you,” the child said, her eyes scanning the room. “I have other dollies, as well,” she said suddenly, her face illuminating once more.
“Oh,” Abby said with intrigue.
“Yes.” She began to name them, counting off on her scrawny, stubby fingers. “Evie, Elise, Helena, and… Irene. You musn’t tell the others but… Ada is my favorite.” She brought a finger to her lips and shushed Abby to secrecy.
“What do you and your dollies enjoy doing together?”
“Oh. Well, our most favorite thing to do is have tea parties.”
“Tea parties?”
“Yes!”
“Why, I used to have tea parties with my dollies, as well,” Abby said.
“Would you join us sometime?” Octavia asked, hope filling her voice as her dark eyes pleaded Abby to say yes. How could she say no?
“Of course, sweet one… I- I am sorry for earlier. But you must understand that as your doctor, I know what is best for you. Though it will not be easy, you must be a big girl and be brave for me if you wish to get better. Do you want to get better?”
Octavia cogitated momentarily as she chewed at her chapped bottom lip with her stray incisor tooth. “I suppose,” she said with a sigh.
~~~
Upon completing her visit with Lady Octavia, Abby was greeted by Calliope who pulled her aside to the parlor for a spot of tea. Not long after meeting Calliope, Abby had deduced that she was one who was awfully fond of male company. She scantly spoke of anything else. Only minutes into their gathering and Calliope had begun asking Abby questions about her personal life.
“Pray tell, is there a special gentleman in your life, Abby?” Calliope inquired as she pushed back a stray, coal-black hair behind her ear.
Abby chuckled suddenly, staggered by the question. She stammered. “Oh, heavens no. I- I’m a widow.”
Calliope’s eyes fell. She donned the same expression and whispered the same pitiful words as everyone else whenever Abby would share her traumatic story. “My condolences,” Calliope said finally.
“It was quite some time ago.”
“Well,” Calliope began, brightening slightly, “if you find yourself feeling lonesome, there are plenty of eligible bachelors on the estate. If you fancy none of them, I have a cousin who many folk refer to as handsome – though I find him to have such odd shaped lips.”
Abby tittered from behind her teacup. “What a peculiar observation,” she said.
Calliope shrugged. “As far as I know, Lord Kane is available, also. He rarely leaves the estate save for the occasional hunting trip. But it appears that you two cannot share four words with one another before you are fussing,” she said, stating the obvious. Perhaps that was the most obvious observation of the entire century.
~~~
At dinner, Abby sat silently between Charmaine and Indra, only speaking whenever she was addressed. For some reason, despite herself, her eyes kept wandering the room, scanning for any sight of Lord Kane to finally join them. He had dined with her privately on her first day at Polis Park but never again since. She could not bear to look at the man yet she still found herself drawing her attention away from the roasted turkey on her plate and the chattering company surrounding her to search for the one man in the world that drove her absolutely mad. Strangely, she felt an unexpected pang of disappointment when he never appeared.
Following the conclusion of dinner, Abby dispersed from the lingering crowd of help to get some fresh air in the courtyard. Unsure what had gotten into her, she found herself walking the grounds, eyes patrolling until they found him.
He hugged the wool coat against his frame as he meandered about the sublime gardens, the chill of the breeze likely biting his bare bits of skin just as it did hers. “I thought I would find you here,” she said from behind him, obviously startling him as he jolted at the sound of her voice. He turned to face her, then quickly back again, seemingly embarrassed by the scare. He continued walking.
“Are you tracking my whereabouts, Doctor?”
She inwardly rolled her eyes but caught herself smiling. “May I join you?” she asked. When he did not reply, she took his silence for agreeance and joined him at his side.
They walked for some distance when he finally replied, looking not at her but ahead. “I never said yes.”
“But you never said no,” she replied quickly. That made his dark eyes crinkle slightly, a loose smirk formed around his usually tight lips.
“How do you fare?” he asked flatly, his smirk dissipating as quickly as it formed.
“Fine, thank you. I am getting acquainted with everyone and learning my way around the estate more and more each day. And you?”
“I am well, thank you,” he said. “I feel as though we need to discuss earlier. Without the shouting.” They continued to walk at a leisurely pace, facing straight ahead as they watched the orange evening sun begin to sink.
“I know you do not agree with my methods, Lord Kane—”
“Not in the slightest.”
“—But do you trust me?”
Lord Kane chewed at his lip. “Yes,” he said, sounding as though it pained him to say it.
“Then act like it.”
“She was so upset,” he choked, his eyes nearly filling with tears. “Octavia has always had a flair for the dramatic but, God, when I found her like that, I just became enraged.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “I do not feel as though my ways are antiquated. I am purely a concerned father. I am sorry but I just cannot fathom how the outdoors will help a child in her condition.”
“I can find you the proof,” she said quickly. “I just need time.”
“Time? Time? Doctor, how much time does she even have?”
“Enough.”
Lord Kane scoffed and ran a hand over his face.
“We mustn’t despair. Hope is everything,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. His eyes fell to her hand and she dropped it back to her side instantaneously, her cheeks burning.
Lord Kane escorted her to her room after their walk. Following their conversation about Octavia, they walked mostly in uncomfortable silence. Abby continued to mull over the embarrassing placement of her hand. Why did she touch him? The look on his face – so utterly stunned – told her he obviously did not wish to be touched, especially by her. She felt as though she had crossed some invisible line and she merely hoped he would be able to forget about it by the morrow.
Once they reached the crest of the grand staircase, Lord Kane nodded and bid her goodnight. As he turned to walk away, she called out for him, stopping him in his tracks.
“Yes?” he asked, turning back to face her once more.
“Is it true that I sleep in your former bedchamber?” He remained silent at her question, so she continued. “Why do you no longer rest there?”
“I would rather not talk about it,” he said quietly, his eyes falling to the floor.
“Sir, I am merely inquiring. I have not displaced you have I?”
His stony expression crumbled and anger bubbled out like molten lava from a volcano. “I said I do not wish to speak of it!” he exclaimed. He turned on his heels and rushed down the stairs, leaving Abby standing in shock, still regarding the space where he stood moments prior.
~~~
A quick flicker of a castle, then green rolling hills as far as the eye could see, and last the coastal waters, waves angry, told him he was in the Isles of Scotland. They had traveled there soon after they were wed. He first caught a glimpse of her obsidian hair, long and wavy. It tickled his nose. She only wore it down when they were alone in their chambers. He heard laughter – her characteristic giggle that was muffled by the crashing waves but still within earshot. He caught a quick glimpse of her dress, it blew about freely in the Scottish winds. She finally turned to him, her face young and beautiful – his dear Aurora! How he longed for her so. He became overwhelmed with a sense of fondness and longing for his dearly departed. His body ached for her.
Without warning, her face dissipated, and suddenly standing before him was not his late wife, but Doctor Abigail Griffin. Surprising himself, the same feelings of fondness and longing remained. The doctor smiled largely at him as he pulled her close…
… And then he woke with a start, his heart racing as he collected his thoughts and whereabouts. It was a dream. He glanced down at the unfortunate bulge of his drawers, shame creeping up on him. What a disgraceful dream! His mind betrayed his poor, dead spouse – with their daughter’s doctor nonetheless. It was simply a silly dream, he told himself.
He tossed and turned the rest of the night, sleeping fitfully when his eyes did finally close, although that only occurred for minutes at a time before he would wake again. He feared that if he allowed sleep to take him fully, he would dream of her again. The guilt he felt for Aurora penetrated his soul, meanwhile the captivating smile of the doctor continued to haunt his mind the remainder of the night. He needed to get away. He had to escape her company before he became completely undone.