Will and Testament // Sequel to the Rosie Grey series

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I struggled to get dressed the next morning.

It turned out that trying to pull on a dress and a stocking with only one working leg was remarkably difficult and I almost fell over several times. Of course, I could have put my dress on whilst sitting on the edge of my bed, but that would involve far too much wiggling and I had struggled to get my nightdress on in a similar fashion the night before. When it came to my stockings, I only put one on since I couldn't get the second one over the bandage on my right foot.

Once dressed, I made an attempt to put a brush through my hair but it didn't do that much other than make it a little fluffy and even more unruly. I tied my ribbon, pulled on one of my boots - it sort of made me feel like a pirate with a peg leg. Before I left my room, satchel slung a little haphazardly over my shoulder and the crutches digging into my armpit, I took one last look around the room that had been mine for those few weeks.

Unless I could find a way to prove my theory, it would be my last night in Grandfather's house. It was hard to believe that we would be leaving in just a few hours if I couldn't find out the truth about Grandfather's will. I didn't want to leave, but I only had a short amount of time to prove it.

"Miss Isabel? Breakfast is ready," Helen said after knocking briefly on my door.

"I'll be down in a second."

I listened to her footsteps recede and sighed, readjusting my satchel's position, although it was hard to do with the crutches. After one final glance around the room, I hopped out of the room with my satchel swinging aimlessly from my shoulder as I went. It hit my hip as I made my way down the hall with the crutches. When I got to the top of the stairs, I paused for a moment to figure out how I would make it down the stairs without falling flat on my face or rolling down them like a balled-up hedgehog.

Rather than risk falling down, I decided that sliding down the stairs on my bottom might be the best solution I have. I sat down on the top stop and balanced my crutches on my lap before using my left hand to propel myself down the stairs. Each step caused my teeth to crash against each other, but it was far more fun and a more efficient way of getting down the stairs.

"I don't think I've ever seen someone do that to avoid going down the stairs on crutches," Father said, appearing in the dining room doorway and raising an eyebrow at me.

"It's either this, or I fall down them. This is easier and more fun."

"Hm, I'll have to remember that one, maybe pass it off as my expert medical advice to my patients with similar injuries, I'm sure it would go down well."

"It's the only way to get down the stairs as far as I'm concerned."

Father laughed. "Come on, breakfast." He reached down and held his hands out to me. I accepted them and he pulled me to feet, well, foot.

"Thank you," I said, readjusting my grip on the crutches so they sat better under my arms.

I followed him from the hallway and into the dining room where Mother sat watching us walk in, or hop in. She didn't say anything, but I assumed she overheard the conversation in the hallway and already knew about my ingenious way of coming down the stairs. I dropped into my usual spot at the dining table and leant my crutches up against the table with my satchel lying at my feet. Breakfast had already been laid out so I immediately tucked into it.

After not eating much for the past few days due to the amount of stress and anxiety running through me, I couldn't wait to dive into breakfast. I piled some scrambled eggs and some pieces of salmon onto my plate and tucked into it, shovelling large amounts into my mouth. Even though I tried to focus on my breakfast, my mind kept spinning back to potential ideas as to how we were going to keep the house. In truth, I had nothing to go on and no place to start.