The glass he had been holding slipped from his fingers and he did not even excuse himself as he marched forward, his heartbeat echoing so loudly in his ears, it drowned out every other noise around.
Phobe’s face was so pale as other guests clamoured around her and Jane who might have been screaming for him or her own husband – he still couldn’t hear anything other than the sign of his furiously pumping blood. He didn’t know what it was he said but the guests wore startled expressions that turned fearful before they quickly backed away from his wife.
“What happened?” he snapped, drawing her into his arms as his heart continue to sink.
Phoebe did not stir as he stroked her cheeks and it was because he was close enough that he could notice the thin sheen of sweat around her forehead.
She felt so... frail in his hold. Had she not been eating well? How long had she been ill? How could he not have noticed?
“I-I don’t know. She just fell –” Jane stammered, tears filling her eyes.
“Send for a physician to head to my estate at once. I will be taking her home right now.” He said as he lifted his wife off the ground and into his sturdy hold.
Thomas appeared at Jane’s side, helping his wife up as he told Edward,
“Go. We will send for him.”
Without another word, Edward left the party, hurrying out to where their carriage was waiting.
“Take us home. Quickly,” he ordered the coachman.
Phobe shivered in his arms and curled closer to his chest, still clearly unconscious and every moment that passed with her like this, the more helpless Edward felt.
Had his home always been this far? Would they make it in time? What if there was something really wrong with her? What was he to do?
“Phoebe,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. “Please... we’re nearly there. We will get you some help soon.”
He did not know what he was begging for, only that he was too desperate not to.
After what felt like ages, the estate appeared in sight. The carriage had scarecely rolled to a stop before he got out with Phoebe cradled carefully in his arms. The staff looked alarmed at the sight of their duchess in that state but he wasted no time barking orders.
“Light a fire in her room and fetch a bowl of cool water to wipe her down. As soon as the physician arrives, send him up to her room.”
Once he had spoken, he carried Phoebe to her room, praying with everything within him that it was not too late. His words felt hollow within his chest as he worried that she might be beyond help and that caused a wave of nausea to wash over him.
As he set her down in her bed, the servants moved around in a flurry of movements, doing everything they could to make their duchess comfortable and it was extremely unsettling to realize that he had done all that he could for the moment.
The irony of the situation mocked him, because he had been so focused on his own weak lifespan and the idea of his death, so afraid of how broken Phoebe would be in the aftermath that he had never considered that she might be the one who would fallill. It was jarring, the possibility that his cowardice might have cost him his only chance to have been honest with her.
The physician arrived soon after and requested the room to properly assess Phoebe’s condition. While Edward would have preferred to stay, he did not think he could handle being of no help what so ever and retired to the hallway to lurk about.
Maude approached him as he paced around, her face impassive even though her eyes were rimmed with red as she spoke,
“The duchess is a fierce and strong woman. She will be all right, Your Grace.”
“What if she isn’t? What if my selfishness was what compromised her health? What if I am the reason why she is in this state and I never get the chance to make things right?
The housekeeper sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping as she considered his words.
“Well then, perhaps your time would be better spent praying for her recovery instead of berating yourself,” she replied.
Edward had never prayed for anything, not even himself. He had long since accepted his fate because he felt there was no reason to expect more from life when he was all too aware of the cards he had been dealt by life.
But for Phoebe... he dared to hope for better.
The physician soon emerged from her room and Edward wasted no time approaching him.
“Is she all right? What is wrong?” he asked, the worry in his veins still as strong as when he had watched her faint.