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Part 7. Despite his reservations, the doctor's remedy had the desired effect. On the fifth day Edward was able to leave his room, although his weakened eyes still demanded the closure of all blinds. He was in the morning room, finishing breakfast, when Julian arrived. "Good to see you up and about," boomed Julian as he entered the room. "I confess it is good to be up and about," grinned Edward, as he reached across the table to shake Julian's outstretched hand. "Forgive me for not standing." "Of course old boy, of course," replied Julian. He glanced at the closed blinds. "I see you have received the sad news. Such a shock. Such a shock," Julian said, shaking his head. "Sad news?" queried Edward reaching for the mail. Julian stared sadly at him, reluctant to impart his unwelcome information. As Edward hand touched the pile of letters he notice a black border edge on one of the envelopes. He pulled it from the pile. Louisa's handwriting. He tore open the envelope; his eyes scanned the letter hoping against hope. "I am sorry Edward," Julian mumbled sadly. "But how?" pleaded Edward. "I was too late. She was dead when I entered the room," Julian told him uncomfortably. "Was she alone?" Edward asked. Julian nodded. "Doctor was a bit mystified. He concluded it was similar to Justin's illness." Edward sat, devoid of movement, trying to digest the information whilst feeling guilty at his ineffectiveness. His silence made Julian uneasy. "I thought your fever and her death were linked in some way," Julian mused, his gaze fixed on the carpet. Edward's eyes flickered in alarm but Julian shrugged his shoulders. "A terrible coincidence," he concluded. |