Chapter VIII
It wasn’t an easy feat to keep Anne in bed, resting that is. She was bursting with energy at all times, and even now, with her head giving her discomfort she found it difficult to be still. Anne was convinced that a short walk couldn’t hurt her, but Ann sat at her side, boring her eyes into hers and deterred her from leaving her bed for other trips than to the necessary and even then Ann was guarding her from a small distance, making sure she didn’t escape her bedrest and fell down the stairs or something worse than that.
Boredom was too light a word to describe the intense restlessness and idleness Anne felt at being confined to her bed. Marian had come in to relieve Ann for a few hours, and Anne was certain that her heart had stopped one or two times from the agony and tediousness Marian brought her. In the end Anne was clutching her head, willing Marian away and hoping Ann would sit with her instead, or her aunt or heck even Argus was better company. Marian had just but controlled her impulse to throw the heavy novel she had been reading from, at her sister for all her complaining but resisted and slammed the door behind her instead.
Ann came inside the room, after having been called back there by Marian who had told her that ‘Caligula’ wanted her company instead.
“Are you alright, Anne? Head’s not hurting too much?” Ann asked as she approached the sickbed,
“A trifle, but I’ll soon be back on my feet again.” Anne told her bravely to discard some of the blonde’s fears, but Ann eyed her suspiciously, her face stern,
“You will not get out of this bed without help unless I give my consent!”
Anne, who never took well on being commanded about, let alone told off by anyone, was annoyed with her statement and it showed on her face as her mouth turned sour,
“I think I shall be the judge of that. I’m the mistress of this house!”
“Anne!” Ann groaned, rubbing her temples, “This is not the time to be stubborn and irrational.”
“Irrational?” Anne questioned, giving her an angry glare, and Ann sighed,
“I..”
“Just because I’m a woman, it doesn’t mean that I’m not capable of taking care of myself!” Anne spat furiously, and Ann groaned loudly,
“No one’s said that! We all know you can, but I do not trust you, alone, to determine when you are fit to be out of bed again. Because I know you. You are bored and your patience will run out before you are well and, God do I know that you are stubborn and will get out anyways, and I don’t want you to get hurt again…” Ann’s voice made a diminuendo, she started well and strong but in the end her voice was brittle and low. Anne had been bracing herself to keep arguing but went silent when she saw and heard the fear in Ann’s voice.
“I almost lost you, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you – so please, Anne try to stay patient!” Ann implored her, and Anne sighed, reaching out her hand to dry away Ann’s tears with her thumb tenderly.
“I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more patient. For your sake. But please don’t get Marian to come up here to read ‘Fordyce’s sermons’ again. Because either I will perish, or she will.” Anne told her with a small smirk, and Ann laughed, leaning against her hand, taking it in hers, and kissing the inside of her wrist,
“I will make sure of it.”
“You should rest, Anne – it’s getting late.” Ann said then, and Anne reached for the pocket-watch that had been given back to her, she was nearing ten.
“Fine. I will. But did you get any reply from Steph?”
“Mm, he wrote back and said he would come tomorrow if he could get away, but at latest he’d come Thursday.” Ann smiled, standing up from the chair.
“Excellent. The sooner the better.” Anne tried to stay positive and Ann bent down and kissed her on the forehead gently,
“Good night, Anne!”
“Night.” Anne replied and then watched Ann leave with some sadness rooted in her chest. She really didn’t like sleeping alone. But eventually sleep took her.
Anne stood in one of the drawing rooms at Crow Nest, and Ann sat before her on the sofa. She had just closed the door behind Catherine Rawson and were now eying Ann with great sadness,
“I’ve lost you, haven’t I?” Ann said on the verge of tears,
“You needn’t have.” Anne found herself saying,
“If I go to Scotland, I’ll never see you again.”
“That’s not necessarily the case.” Anne hurriedly said, she feels nervous and she’s fidgeting a bit, so unlike herself,
“I bought a ring. I know you told me not to send for it. But I already had. So. And it really is rather splendid. And I’d be loath to send it back.”
Anne fell onto one knee, she’s offering her heart, her life, everything that is hers to give. Her heart is filled with hope when she sees Ann reach for the ring, but then she withdraws and cries. The cries echoes through Anne’s mind, and she can’t seem to shut it out, her chest clenches and then everything went black.
Anne woke up stunned, looking around herself, she was still in her bed, in her bedroom at Shibden. She wasn’t at Crow Nest at all – but it had felt so real. Like she was observing herself and reliving something. Was this a memory? Anne was struck by the thought, maybe it was a real memory, she would have to ask Ann about it. With trembling hands Anne reached out for her pocket-watch. There was a mild pressure over her chest, as her state of mind remained in the dream – in her heartbreak. She flickered the pocket-watch open and saw that she was only five in the morning. No one would be up yet. But she could find no rest now. She needed to know if that was a memory or just a bad dream.
Desperate to know, Anne carefully flung her covers aside, gently and slowly getting out of bed, ignoring the ache in her head, and ribs. She stumbled a little, because of the dizziness that hit her as she stood up, at first but remained still for a moment and could then slowly make her way to the door.
With some struggles Anne managed to sneak into Ann’s room next door, and the blonde sat up bolt right in bed, frightened by the sounds of the door and steps,
“It’s alright, it’s only me!” Anne called out and Ann blinked hard, rubbing her eyes, looking her way,
“Anne! You aren’t supposed to be out of bed without anyone to help you.”
Anne was vexed by that but pushed it aside and stopped by the bed.
“I needed…”
“Sit down before you fall over or faint!” Ann took hold of her arm and forced her down, and Anne was grateful though she’d never admit it of course, that the room had begun spinning ever so slightly.
“Now tell me, what’s the matter?” Ann gazed at her with concern, and Anne held her head for a moment, to ease the pain before turning her attention to the woman next to her,
“I had a dream.”
“A nightmare?” Ann inquired, running warm hands over Anne’s back, and Anne furrowed her eyebrows,
“I don’t know. Well, that is to say I don’t know if it were a dream or a memory.”
“Tell me. I might know.”
“I figured you might, since you were in it.” Anne told her and Ann stood on her knees, sitting up better, and even closer to her,
“What happened? In your dream I mean.”
“I was, eh, standing in the drawing room, your drawing room… um and Catherine were there but she left. Then you thought… um that you had lost me, and you said that if you went to Scotland you wouldn’t see me again. I, think I proposed to you with that ring.” Anne nodded towards the ring that sat on Ann’s finger and then her eyes travelled to meet the tired eyes of Ann.
“Is that a memory? Did that happen?” Anne inquired, and Ann nodded silently,
“Yes. It did. I wasn’t well.”
“You heard voices.” Anne said suddenly, looking up at Ann,
“Yes.” Ann said slowly, “Was that in your dream?”
“No. I just… remembered. We were sitting with you through the night. They were in the clock.” Anne said confounded, the memory was coming back to her bit by bit.
“Anything else?” Ann encouraged her, though she looked disheartened with the remembrance of that episode in her life. Anne scrunched her forehead in thought, as she tried to force more of the memory to come back to her but nothing. She shook her head, frowning as her head began throbbing and stinging more again.
“No.”
“Well, I suppose it’s good for now. It gives us hope that you will recover from this.” Ann told her pleased, and Anne smiled small,
“I guess it does.”
“Now, let us get you back into bed. I’ll hold you under the arm.” Ann stood up and offered her arm, and despite Anne feeling ridiculous at being helped to bed, she was happy for it because her head was giving her hell at the moment.
When Ann tucked her in bed again and were about to leave to see if they could have some tea, seeing as they were now both fully awake, Anne grasped her hand, preventing her from doing that.
“You didn’t say yes.”
“Sorry?”
“To me, you couldn’t.”
“No.” Ann realised what she meant, and smiled sadly, “I didn’t, not then.”
“After Scotland? When you asked for my address?” Anne asked, remembering what Ann had told her two days ago, and she nodded,
“Yes. I’ll back in a short moment.”
Ann left Anne in bed, and she pondered this, hoping that more memories might return if she focused on the small bits she now remembered, and the things she knew from Ann and her Aunt.