Chapter Forty-Two

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Though it had only been a couple of weeks since Emily had last been to Würde Manor, it was different. Everything felt far colder. Where there used to be several windows glowing with golden light, now only one or two were lit behind drawn drapes.

Emily stepped out of the hansom, white snowflakes brushing past her in a rough wind. Emily took out her coin purse and handed the man the fare. He gave half of them back.

"Can't stay here, miss," He said, stroking his beard and looking up at the gray sky. "There's a storm brewing." Emily's eyes narrowed. Yes, she thought. Very gentlemanly of you to leave a lady stranded! But, she didn't say anything; only taking the franks back and watching the cab drive off. No more had she turned had the door opened.

Dominick stood in the entrance, waistcoat unbuttoned and shirt half untucked. A dark shade of stubble clung to his cheeks, so dark that within the next day or two it would become a beard. The howling wind pushed Emily inside. As soon as she walked past Dominick, the warmth of the manor caused her arms to prickle.

"Quite the day for a visit," Dominick said, shutting the door.

"Quite," Emily said. She took off her cloak and brushed the snow from it. Dominick took it and hung it on the hook by the door. "I have no problem weathering a storm for Nan."

"Yes," he said with a flicker of a grin. "Well, she's in her room. I could bring you tea, if you would like."

"That would be lovely," Emily said. Dominick disappeared into the kitchen. Emily lingered in the foyer for a few minutes, breathing in its musty odor. Her footsteps barely made a sound upon the burgundy carpet. Emily stopped when she spotted a patch of carpet darker than the rest. Breath caught in her throat. She could almost see Annabelle's form, lying there-

Emily darted toward the stairs, ascending them quickly. She focused on the groans of the house settling and the tinkling of snow against the window pane. Anything to keep from thinking of Anna's body surrounded in a halo of crimson.

Next thing Emily knew, Nan's bedroom door stood over her almost omnipresent and sinister. She reached out, yet yanked her hand back. Just thinking of Nan, so sick and frail...No. This is what she had come for, after all. Emily closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and extended her hand again. She placed her hand on the brass knob, twisted it, and pushed.

Dim light filtered through the ice-tented windows. Shadows played across the room as snowflakes hit the pane. A veil hung over the four-poster bed, and a chair stood beside it. Emily stood in the doorway for several seconds, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.

"Dominick," a faint voice came from the bed. "Is that you, mein Kind?"

"No..." Emily said, walking toward the chair. "It's Emily...Emma."

"Oh?" the weak voice said. A rustling came from behind the veil. Nan sat in her bed, grimacing as she adjusted herself. She looked livid, and her face sunken. The nightdress barely clung to her thin frame, and a sleeve fell off her shoulder.

Emily rushed over, and lifted Nan into a proper sitting position. Nan's breasts heaved for several seconds, and a ragged sound fell from her lips as she took in as much breath as she could. It took several seconds and quite a bit of coughing before she slumped back against her pillows.

Quick footsteps echoed down the hall. The door banged open, and a middle-aged woman with graying red hair ran in. She wore an apron over her light blue dress. It took a moment for Emily to realize that the woman wore an armband with a nurse's Red Cross on it.

"Is everything alright, Miss Higgins?" she asked, eyeing Emily.

"Yes, Helga," Nan said. "Everything is more than alright."

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