Translator: Nox

Chapter 136

#<Episode 136>

"Am I a disappointment to you? Do you hate me now? Are you going to run away from me across the channel, just like in your letter?"

"......"

"Please don't. Please, don't do that. If you do, I..."

He bit his lip.

"I won't say I'll die. That kind of threat won't work on you, and it's not the right way. You are your own master. It's entirely up to you who you live with and how. I've learned that I shouldn't force you to choose me. But, I know it in my head, but in my heart..."

His dark eyelashes were wet. It could have been from the melting snowflakes, or from tears.

He placed his right hand over his left chest.

"My heart keeps telling me it will stop if you leave. My heart keeps telling me I'll be unhappy if I lose you. Laura, can't you choose me? Can't you believe that my love is stronger than any constraints of reality? Can't you see that you are the only key to my happiness?"

Clear tears, like morning dew, rolled down his cheeks.

"Our love is real. Reality can't beat the truth. Laura, let's believe in each other's truth."

But he must have soon felt that Laura's silence was a clear sign of rejection. With a look of despair, he took out a handkerchief and wiped his wet face.

"I'll go back to Whitefield today. Now that I've faced you directly, staying in Bath any longer would not be respecting you."

He handed Laura the black umbrella he had just bought.

"Your face is very cold. Take this umbrella. It's a short walk to the hackney carriage stand."

He smiled sadly and turned towards the snow-swept street.

Then, the umbrella slipped from Laura's hand. The empty hand that had been holding the umbrella grabbed his sleeve.

He turned around.

Laura took two steps and approached Ian closely. Snowflakes poured down on her head.

"Ian."

His eyes widened. It was the first time she had called him by his name alone.

Laura's voice was feverish and cracked.

"I've tried so hard not to be a fool my whole life. But now, I don't know why it's so bad to be a fool."

"......What?"

Laura's eyes were full of Ian.

"Ian, to me, you are also..."

At that moment, Laura's eyebrows twitched. At the same time, her body tilted like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

Ian quickly caught Laura's collapsing body.

Just like when she found her father's tombstone and collapsed into his arms, his body had a solid stability.

Laura fainted.

"Laura! Laura!"

He shook Laura.

"That's right, Laura has a cold...!"

He took off his gloves and caressed Laura's face. The skin, which he had believed was red from the cold, was as hot as coal taken from a fireplace.

"Damn it! Damn it!"

He picked Laura up in his arms and started running towards the hackney carriage stand. Laura, in his arms, had a gentle and happy face.

* * *

Laura's auburn hair sparkled with sunset light on the white pillow.

Her marble-white face was as red as a rose. Her lips, which were always a shy pink like cherry blossoms, were as red as her skin, and the shadows created by her long eyelashes under her tightly closed eyelids were so deep and mysterious that they were admirable.

She was beautiful lying in bed. But that beauty was an ominous beauty tinged with the scent of death. Her rosy skin was glistening with sweat, and endless panting and delirium flowed alternately from her pretty lips.

The doctor, who leaned over Laura to take her temperature, shook his head with a grim face.

"It's a severe Fever. When I visited before, it was just a cold that would get better with a week of rest, but how did it get so bad?"

Miss Hyde, who was standing by the bed with a troubled face, replied.

"She visited the daughter of a friend who had Fever."

The doctor clicked his tongue.

"It seems it was an infectious Fever. Visiting a Fever patient before the cold had even healed, it's like carrying firewood and walking into a fireplace."

"It's not life-threatening, is it?"

Miss Rotis, who was standing next to Miss Hyde, asked.

"I can't say for sure. We'll know after tonight. It will be a night that determines her life."

The two turned pale. They had seen the possibility of death in the doctor's words.

The doctor gave various instructions to Mrs. Rover, the nurse who was nearby.

Mrs. Rover showed no signs of tension, even though a terminally ill patient was in front of her. Having lived as a midwife and nurse for 30 years, she was a medical expert who could cure ten Fever patients lying down all by herself.

The doctor said to Miss Hyde and Miss Rotis.

"Judging by the symptoms, it is definitely contagious. Everyone except the nurse should leave the room."

They cast worried glances at the ailing Laura before leaving the room.

As the two ladies disappeared, the doctor looked to one corner of the room.

"The gentleman should leave too."

The gentleman he was referring to, Ian Dalton, did not move.

After carrying the collapsed Laura, he had been sitting on the sofa in one corner of the room. With his elbows on his knees and his two hands clasped tightly to his lips as if in prayer.

"I'm not leaving."

Mr. Dalton replied stiffly. His face was as pale as a corpse, and his eyes were bloodshot. He was staring intently only at Laura, as he had been since arriving in the room.

"Even a healthy gentleman can hardly survive if infected with Fever. Please leave."

"I don't value my life."

"Are you saying you want to die too, sir?"

"I have no intention of fleeing to a safe place, leaving her in the midst of a struggle. If she is standing at the crossroads of death, then I must also be in a similar crisis."

'Oh, here comes Romeo.'

The doctor sighed and instructed Mrs. Rover.

"Please watch that he doesn't get too close to the patient, madam."

"Don't worry."

The doctor picked up his medical bag and left the room.

Mrs. Rover generously loosened the patient's front and fed her warm wine and water that she had prepared in advance to reduce the fever. Then, she soaked a towel in cold water and wiped her body.

As time went on, Laura's panting became more and more severe. She tossed and turned and shook her head as if she were having a nightmare. She gasped for breath and hit her chest with her hands.

Mrs. Rover suddenly started singing. It was the folk song 'Greensleeves'.

[Alas, my love you do me wrong

To cast me off discourteously

And I have loved you oh so long

Delighting in your company

Greensleeves was my delight

Greensleeves was my heart of gold

Greensleeves was my heart of joy

and who but my Lady Greensleeves]

Her clear voice filled the room. She patted the patient as if putting a baby to sleep in a cradle.

[I have been ready at your hand

To grant whatever you wouldst crave

And I have waged both life and land

your love and goodwill for to have

The petticoat of silk and white

with gold embroidered gorgeously

The petticoat of silk white

and these I bought gladly]

She sang tirelessly like a music box that would play music endlessly as long as it was wound up. At the same time, she fed Laura wine and water and wiped her face and neck with a cold towel.

The wine and water ran out. The cold water that had been soaking the towel had also become lukewarm. She picked up the water jug and turned to Ian.

"Will you sing to the patient until I get back?"

He jumped up from his seat.

"May I?"

"It doesn't matter who sings. The important thing is the song itself. Folk songs are excellent at calling patients who are receiving the call of heaven back to earth. Devout people insist that hymns should be sung, but hymns are songs that call the soul to heaven. Stand by the bed and sing 'Greensleeves' until I get back. Just don't get too close."

Mrs. Rover left the room.

Ian carefully walked to the bedside. He stopped two spans away from the bed. It wasn't because he was afraid of catching Laura's illness. It was because he didn't trust himself not to hug her tightly if he got any closer.

Laura was suffering. In a fever so hot it seemed to burn her whole body.

"Ah......"

Ian clutched his chest in pain. Tears rolled down his bloodshot eyes. He would give anything if he could take her illness and suffer himself. His wealth, his youth, even his life.

'Laura, I won't ask you to accept me anymore. So just live. Please.'

He opened his lips. A song that his nanny used to sing as a lullaby when he was a child. A song that he could still hear from the women in the countryside from time to time, even as an adult. 'Greensleeves.'

[Alas, my love you do me wrong

To cast me off discourteously

And I have loved you oh so long

Delighting in your company

Greensleeves was my delight

Greensleeves was my heart of gold

Greensleeves was my heart of joy

and who but my Lady Greensleeves]

In contrast to Mrs. Rover, Ian's singing was terrible. How could someone who was crying sing skillfully?

While he was singing, tears streamed down his cheeks. Plop, plop, the teardrops fell to the floor, sounding like rain.

He barely finished the song. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his face before opening his mouth to sing again.

At that time.

Laura opened her eyes.