The Forgotten Duchess

Chapter Two | Voices

After drinking three full glasses, Vivienne felt a greater sense of clarity. She seemed to be in someone's house—aristocracy based on the quality and style of clothes the gentleman was wearing.

"Where am I?" she thought she asked but couldn't hear her own question.

The gentleman came closer and he opened his mouth and said something, but she could not hear. Alarm swept through her body, why could she not hear what everyone around her was saying?

She glanced at him in panic as tears begun to swell in her eyes. "I cannot hear what you are saying."

Brown eyes, the colour of brandy met hers in alarm. Based on his expression, she knew that she'd gotten her point across. He turned towards the door and said a few sentences, but Vivienne did not know what they were. She watched the girls who stood huddled there left the room. It was suddenly difficult for her to breathe, the aching pain in her chest increased and she could feel the walls closing in around her. Her eyes fluttered shut as she brought her knees to her chest and curled into a ball. What was happening to her?

Warm hands stroked her hair and she glanced up to see the gentleman move to her side. She read one word on his lips, "Breathe."

Vivienne took deeps breaths as the feeling of closure subsided. She could see him mouthing something else, but it was too fast for her comprehension. There was another flurry of activity at the door and she only caught it from the corner of her eyes as another figure approached her dressed in less formal clothing while carrying a bag filled with various items.

The man with the brown eyes and the newcomer exchanged a few words before he proceeded to lightly touch her shoulders. She recoiled at the touch, itching the sheet order her body. The man's eyes met hers, "Physician," he mouthed.

Vivienne's gaze swung to the other gentleman with the brown eyes and he gave her a single nod, indicating she could trust him. Hesitantly, she lowered the sheet and allowed him to look further.

***

James watched like a hawk as Ballard tended to the girl. He was not surprised the man returned after his prompt dismissal the night before—after all, he was a duke, and one did not simply deny his requests. He was however, surprised at the chit. She was skittish, that much was evident—it was clear that she had been through quite the ordeal before arriving at his estate.

"Why can she not hear us?"

Ballard took a moment from his examination to answer his question. "There could be a plethora of reasons, Your Grace."

"Enlighten me," he demanded.

"She could have sustained a head injury, been exposed to loud noise, or simply have problems with her ear canal which prevents her from hearing."

"Well which was is it, damnit?"

"It probably is one of the first two options, as you've said that the girl herself was wondering why she could not hear."

There was a tug on his coat sleeve, and he looked down to see the chit staring at him. Her eyes were green—the colour of fresh, well-tended leaves. He could see the fear and questions on her face. Hesitantly, he placed his hand over hers—the gesture would not be considered proper in society, but he let that thought sod off. The girl needed reassurance and for some reasons, she had chosen him. The least he could do was curb her fears.

His gaze spun as Ballard approached the girl with a foreign object. His grip tightened on her fingers and the physician continued to fuss over her ear. Not once did she flinch but he could feel the shivers through her body. She ignored the physician while training those hauntingly green eyes upon his own. It was a strange feeling; James could see the pain and anguish reflected in them and it had an impact on him. He wanted to protect her from whatever horrors she had witnessed.