The Twilight Garden

11

'Good afternoon, daughter.' Her mother called from the parlour as Josephine entered through the garden doors. She started at the call—it was calm, almost happy, which she had not witnessed even in the months preceding her father's death. She followed the sound of soft chatter to the room where her mother sat, across from an unknown caller, smiling and nodding at everything he said.

'Josephine, this is Dr Kaylock. He will be joining us for dinner, along with Porter and his mother, Lady Keane.' Lorrena introduced the strange man, who stood and bowed slightly before sitting again. She could see her mother's discomfort in having Dr Kaylock present, but she did try to appear more than cordial to the man as she offered him another biscuit.

'Pleased to meet you, Dr Kaylock. Are you the Lady's physician, then?' Josephine inquired, declining her mother's silent plea for her to sit beside her and take a cup of tea.

'In a sense, yes I am.' He answered, his eyes locked on her mother's face. She could see him searching her face, perhaps trying to find a fault in her, though it was clear he thought she was blind to it.

'It was wonderful meeting you, Dr Kaylock,' Josephine said, turning to leave, 'I really must prepare for my session with Dr Scott. Please, excuse me.' There was something wrong with this new doctor, and her mother's plain distress at his appearance—she new there was something happening, something her mother didn't want her to know about, something that involved the new doctor and her own Dr Scott, with whom she would refuse to part if the situation came to that. She resolved to discuss it with him upon his return to the manor, and she went to study to wait.

Leland entered the study, his head bowed. He had spent the better part of his walk back to the manor attempting to justify the emotions that stirred within him—needless to say, he was racked with guilt, but also determined not to allow them to abolish the trust he had built with Josephine. As he turned from the door, having closed it and grateful for a few moments of silence, he saw Josephine sitting at the desk, with a stack of files laid out before her.

'My mother has hired a second doctor to confirm or refute your diagnosis. He will be joining us for dinner.' She did not look up from the papers, but continued to shuffle through them, moving them about, taking them out and reading through them.

He was taken aback by her words—had he given Lorrena Bray any reason to doubt his efficacy as a psychologist? Perhaps she had taken note of his affection for Josephine, as it had grown since their first meeting. No, that couldn't be it—he hadn't been forthcoming with his feelings until their contact at the gate just hours before. No, definitely not, it had to be another reason.

'Dr Kaylock is Lady Keane's physician. She has ample physical and mental concerns that warrant a live in doctor, though I cannot see a need for him to accompany her to dinner here, when he would be just a ten minute drive away. The only explanation is that my mother wishes to have a second opinion. I'm not sure what she expects to happen—either he will confirm that I am insane, or he will deny your claims and you will be sent away.' It was then that she looked up from the files and fully beheld Leland. Her face was serious, there wasn't a single shred of the curious and imaginative young woman he had visited the garden with. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, and though she refused to let them fall, Leland could see the strain she was putting herself under. He felt no different than she looked—torn and confused by the very thing that should bring them both comfort. He walked to the desk and stood beside her as she continued to rifle through the files. He would not allow anyone to come between them and her treatment—for, no matter if he believed her or not, he had agreed to help her find closure and solve whatever mystery was taking place.

'Josephine, do not be concerned about this second doctor. Perhaps it is just a coincidence, and he is merely attending the dinner in order to keep a watchful eye on Lady Keane.' Leland's attempt at comfort was honourable, but Josephine shook her head.

'No, I've had a terrible feeling since meeting with Porter again, after so long. Though he has not changed much physically, there was something odd about his arrival and his private discussions with my mother. Then, when I returned and met Dr Kaylock, my mother seemed out of sorts. She was not her usual self, at all.'

Leland leaned over the desk and lifted her hands from the papers, holding them up to his face. He kissed her knuckles and smiled against her skin. 'There is no reason for your concern. I made a promise to you, and I will see it through. We will get to the bottom of whatever it is that is plaguing you, whether it be hallucinations or true visions. I am a man of my word.'

She smiled in gratitude, feeling her embarrassment travel up her neck to her cheeks in a warm wave of emotions. This man, whom her mother had hired, was so utterly confusing that she could not help but admire him—to her, Leland was a gentle and caring and understanding man whom she had trusted herself to; she assumed that, to her mother, he was a cold psychologist, only concerned with either curing or institutionalising her. Which face was the true face of Leland Scott? She felt she knew the answer—his gentility was too practised, too forced; his eyes betrayed him whenever he watched her, thinking she was unaware of his gaze. His closeness and kindness and tenderness was apparent whenever they were alone, and she had no intention of correcting his familiarity with her.

'Leland....' Josephine began, unsure of the words that were racing through her head, 'I had an idea as to how we could convince Dr Kaylock that his services are not needed here, but it may mean that my mother will dismiss you. You must recant your diagnosis and proclaim me sane.'

He searched her face, but found no jest in her eyes. With a deep breath, Leland dropped her hands and moved around the desk to lean against it, crossing his arms over his chest.

'What you are asking me goes against my better judgement— I cannot quite explain what I saw today, but it speaks volumes to your sanity. On the other hand, without a proper explanation, I cannot, without a doubt, proclaim you sane.'

'But, if I were to appear as if I were cured, Dr Kaylock would refute your original diagnosis and, though you would be dismissed, we could continue to work on uncovering this mystery and ending whatever ails me without my mother's constant gaze. Please, consider it, Leland. I am afraid of what will come of this dinner, and with Porter suddenly back, and whatever I saw during my episode, nothing good can come of it.'

He sucked in another deep breath and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. It was infuriating, his desire to help her at all costs conflicting with his training as a professional. Everything he wanted to do went against what he clinically ought to do—but there she was, her eyes wide and pleading, her hands resting on his arm, her warmth radiating from her fingertips.

'I will keep you rooted in reality as much as I can, but I cannot proclaim you sane. There are still so many questions, so many things we have yet to uncover, that I feel it would be an injustice to you for me to be sent away so soon.' He looked at her, seeing the exhaustion she tried to hide, hearing the pain in her voice that had begun due to the ghastly visions she experienced. 'I will, however, do my best to keep your condition out of the conversation.'

'Thank you, Leland.' She said, standing to kiss his cheek. 'I am forever in your debt.'