So Albert has fallen for my chaperone, Dora thought with bemusement. That shall be the scandal of the Season, I am sure. Somehow, she doubted that either party would much care about the scandal involved.
“You really must leave Miss Ettings to rest,” Albert told Vanessa with a slight cough. “I promise, I will see her back to Carroway House as soon as Miss Jennings is able to arrive.”
Vanessa took her leave only reluctantly. Once she had gone, Dora found herself blinking back sleep.
“Elias is not back then,” she observed wearily. “I suppose that makes sense. I came straight back, but he must leave faerie by a longer road.”
“You really were in faerie?” Albert asked softly. “How strange that must have been.”
“No,” Dora murmured. “It was terribly familiar, in fact. I think that must have been the worst part, Mr Lowe.” But Dora laid her head back down upon the pillow and suddenly could not stay awake for even a moment longer—she fell into a deep sleep once again.
As she slept, she dreamt of Hollowvale, with its broad ballrooms and misty gardens. Dora wandered the halls of Charity House and found them much-changed; the few children that remained there ran about shrieking with cheerful laughter, building forts from the furniture and playing hide-and-seek.
A bubble of joy grew within her chest as she watched them, and she knew that she had no regrets.
When Dora woke in the middle of the night, she found Abigail to be somewhat more lucid. The little girl had sit herself up in bed with her arms around her legs; she was staring out the window with great concentration.
“Abigail,” Dora said. “Are you feeling better?”
The little girl turned her head and blinked. “Better’n ever,” she said. “Can’t remember the last time someone let me sleep as much as I liked.” She hesitated, then added: “Mrs Dun says it won’t be forever. She said I’ll have chores eventually, an’ lessons.”
Dora smiled at that. “A few chores and lessons are not so bad,” she said. “At the very least, there will be no picking oakum.”
Abigail was silent for a long moment. “...is Lord Hollowvale dead?” she asked quietly.
Dora blinked slowly. “Yes,” she said. “But how did you know?”
“I felt him die, I think,” Abigail said. “It’s the only reason I’ve been sleepin’ all right.”
Dora looked down at her hands in her lap. They were quite clean, though they did not feel that way. There had been no blood on them even when she first awoke. “I killed him,” she admitted softly. “I did not know that I was capable of such a thing. And now, I do not know if I will ever be able to cry over it.”
Abigail swung herself down from her bed and headed over towards Dora. She climbed into her lap and hugged her tightly.
“I’d have killed Master Ricks if I could,” Abigail offered quietly. “I’ll never get the chance to try, I figure. Mr Lowe says he was arrested for black magic.”
Dora nodded dully. “I know that I would regret it even more if I had not killed Lord Hollowvale,” she said. “But either way, it still feels very awful.”
Abigail had nothing to say to that. She stayed with Dora for the rest of the night though, and eventually they both fell asleep once more.
Miss Jennings was overjoyed to see Dora when she next awoke, though the ex-governess managed to be somewhat more sombre about the entire affair than Vanessa had been. Dora learned that Miss Jennings had volunteered to help keep watch over her in spite of the quarantine, but Albert had shooed her sternly away instead.
“But I do not understand why it is you need me at Carroway House,” Miss Jennings admitted in puzzlement, during the carriage ride back. “Surely, no one could think that Lady Carroway is an unsuitable chaperone?”
Dora glanced towards Albert, still sitting on the other side of the carriage, and she smiled serenely. “I may yet have someone come courting,” she said. “But until then, I suppose that we shall just be enjoying your company.” She paused. “Though interested parties had better make themselves known in a hurry, I would say.”
“Indeed,” Albert mumbled, shaking his head. “Your point is well-taken, Miss Ettings.”
Miss Jennings knitted her brow, but did not inquire further.
Lady Carroway was there to greet them when they arrived. The older woman insisted on seeing Dora directly to her room and tucking her into bed, in spite of Dora’s protests that she had slept and slept already.
“You must not come down ill again!” Lady Carroway told her sternly. “You may do as you like—you may even have visitors—but you must do it from your bed for at least a while yet!”
Dora could not bring herself to protest overmuch. There was something comforting about being so worried over, and the maids had put warm bricks in the bed to heat it up for her feet. Eventually, it occurred to her that someone must have brought over her things from Hayworth House, for her dresses were hanging in the closet very neatly.
“I wrestled them away from Mother,” Vanessa told Dora, when she inevitably came to visit. “I can see it now, how guilty she is feeling. It’s why she would not come to see you, though I know that she wanted to.”
Dora found herself oddly unconcerned by the idea of Auntie Frances and her guilt. Perhaps she will come and try to mend fences, Dora thought. But perhaps she will not. Either way, I have so many more important things to worry about.
“The plague is broken,” Vanessa said. “Does that mean that the Lord Sorcier can fix your condition when he returns?”
Dora shook her head slowly. “My other half shall remain in faerie forevermore,” she told her cousin. “I made the choice to leave her there, and I do not regret it.”
Vanessa looked stricken at that. “But after all of that, Dora!” she said. “Was there no point
