✔️ shadows of desire | downton abbey

chapter 39

The next morning arrived in a blur of pale light and a suffocating haze that wrapped itself around me like a heavy shroud. My eyelids felt glued shut, and every attempt to open them sent waves of pain rippling through my head. My body, usually quick to spring to action, betrayed me, each movement a slow and deliberate struggle.

The first thing I became aware of was the air—thick and hot, like breathing through damp wool. My chest burned with every shallow breath, each inhale bringing with it a sharp, stabbing pain that refused to subside. A cough bubbled up in my throat, harsh and rasping, but I swallowed it back. I couldn't afford to be ill. Not now.

I blinked up at the ceiling, the world spinning and unfocused. My room, usually so warm and inviting, felt strange, foreign even. The light streaming through the curtains seemed too bright, the sounds of birds outside too loud. My head throbbed in protest, and I closed my eyes again, willing the sensations to fade.

It's nothing, I told myself. Just the effects of a late night. You've been under stress—that's all this is.

The memory of last night drifted back to me in fragments: the tension at dinner, Sybil's quiet strength, Matthew's comforting presence. I had promised myself I'd wake early and make myself useful today. I had plans to meet with Polly about the day's tasks, plans to see Matthew and begin wedding preparations. There was no time to be unwell.

I forced myself upright, the movement slow and deliberate. A sharp ache spread through my limbs, as if I'd been carrying a heavy weight all night. My nightgown clung to my skin, damp with sweat, and a sudden chill made me shiver. I rubbed my arms, trying to shake the cold, but it lingered, creeping into my bones.

A sudden cough wracked my body, harsh and unrelenting, doubling me over as I tried to stifle it. The sound echoed in the stillness of the room, ragged and foreign. For a moment, I thought I tasted blood, but I dismissed it as imagination.

I stumbled to the edge of the bed, gripping the wooden frame for support. My legs felt weak, trembling beneath me, and I fought the rising panic that threatened to take hold.

You're fine, I told myself. Just a little under the weather. It's nothing.

But deep down, a small, insistent voice whispered otherwise. I ignored it, pushing myself to my feet. The room tilted alarmingly, and I had to steady myself against the wall. My vision swam, and for a terrifying moment, I thought I might faint.

"Just tired," I whispered aloud, as if saying it would make it true. My voice sounded strange, hoarse and unfamiliar.

I managed a few unsteady steps toward the basin, splashing cool water onto my face in an attempt to revive myself. The water felt soothing against my fevered skin, but it did little to clear the heaviness clouding my mind.

A knock at the door startled me, and I turned, swaying slightly.

"Miss Eden?" Polly's voice called from the other side. "Are you awake? You've not come down yet, and I was starting to worry."

I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The room tilted again, the edges of my vision darkening. I reached for the edge of the table, but my fingers slipped, grasping at nothing.

"Polly..." I managed to croak, just as my legs gave way beneath me.

The door burst open, and Polly's gasp was the last thing I heard before the world went black.

The world spun in chaotic, dizzying circles before everything faded to black. The last thing I felt was the cold, unforgiving floor as it met me with a thud. My body lay still, limp and unresponsive, as if it no longer cared for the world around it.