Never Tell a Soul, Damon Priest

7. the holy mission

Aunt Barbara never told anyone, which was even more so troubling. She appeared to believe Geneva's weak explanation that she was merely out walking to test her ankles.

She was quite certain her aunt would have told her sisters about the incident if not for what happened next. Curiously, Aunt Deborah came down with a flu, which lasted for a fortnight. Whenever one of the Withers sisters got ill, it was a rule to not aggravate their condition by sparing them of household matters or issues that may only cause them stress.

Geneva may have been spared, but she was still wary. Aunt Barbara followed her everywhere for a month, always walking into her room when she overstayed, or would even grab her shawl and join Geneva to the market. Church was no question, of course.

But whatever Aunt Barbara may suspect Geneva was up to, or however Geneva worried over the excess attention she was getting from her aunt, was brushed aside when Doctor Peters gave them unfavorable news. Nearly two months now since falling ill, Aunt Deborah had not made a full recovery. A little walk would make her breathless, more so every journey up and down the stairs.

Geneva was in the corner of the drawing room, silently listening, while Doctor Peters explained to Aunt Prudence and Barbara that they may need to prepare for the inevitable.

"Unacceptable," said Aunt Prudence, stiffly shaking her head. "Deborah can still walk and talk. She still eats her meals. Something could surely be done."

"Whatever it is," Aunt Barbara said, voice shaking as she pleaded with the doctor. "You must have something to recommend."

Doctor Peters was silent for a while, considering his next words. "I can recommend a trip to Birth. Many choose to recuperate there because of the wind and the clear ocean."

"You mean they go there and wait for death," Prudence bitingly said.

"There must be another way!" Barbara was nearly frantic now.

Doctor Peters nodded in understanding. "Very well," the man said, gaze traveling between the two sisters, then once to Geneva. "There is one doctor who may have more to offer," he said.

"Who?"

"Doctor Oliver St. Vincent."

"I have heard of him," said Prudence to her sister. "I heard he once brought a man back to life."

"Or so he claims," Doctor Peters murmured under his breath before saying aloud, "Doctor St. Vincent is the best in Sutherland. However," he added before the two sisters could open their mouths. "He is not the most personable."

"Whatever do you mean?" Barbara asked, her brows in the same shape as the ironed curls framing her face.

"St. Vincent will be very honest with you. He shall not bother to find the best words to reveal unfavorable news—or even good ones. I want you to be ready for what he may say when you meet him."

"We only want the best options for our sister. The Lord shall guide us when we meet this doctor." Barbara turned to her older sister before she gave Geneva a look of determination. "We shall leave at once."

***

Windsong Manor gained the reputation as a place not suitable for innocent young ladies for many reasons. Perhaps because there was nothing particular that would interest anyone who had great knowledge about architecture or the arts. It was dilapidated at best, with molds and vines eating its walls, and it had quite a bad history (different versions of it, to be in fact). Another reason might be that villagers of all sorts passed by using the path that led to the other side of the hill. Most often, people from the other side would also herd their livestock outside the manor where the grass was bountiful. Another reason was that the place was not meant for just anyone to enter, and however open it might be because the doors and windows were long gone, the fact still remained that someone still owned the place and stepping within its premises could be considered a crime.