Charlotte, who had been tending her day and night, covered her mouth to muffle a yawn before turning her gaze to Eugenia.
“Do you feel well enough for company right now, my Lady, or shall I ask whoever it is to come back later?”
Eugenia yawned, too, then set her teacup on the bedside table.
“You can let them in. I suppose I could use a real conversation to settle my nerves after spending so many days lost in strange, upsetting fever dreams.”
Charlotte rose with a wordless nod of agreement and strode over to open the door. The twins hovered in the hall just outside, both of them pale and wide-eyed, wringing their hands in unison.
“Does she feel well enough to see us?”
Millicent was pressing up on her tip-toes to peer over Charlotte’s shoulder at Eugenia. Eugenia raised a hand and waved weakly, then let her hand fall back into her lap. Her arm was heavy with fatigue, her joints still swollen and sore from her fever.
Charlotte stepped aside to allow the twins into Eugenia’s bedchamber, then closed the door behind them as they moved to the bed and perched on the edge of it on either side of their eldest sister.
Millicent patted Eugenia’s right hand gingerly, as if afraid that her sister was breakable in the same way that porcelain was breakable.
“How are you feeling?”
“I am glad to be awake, and carrying on a rational conversation, more than anything else.” Eugenia paused, suppressing another yawn. “But I feel badly about giving poor Mama such a fright over my health, all because I was so wrapped up in my own emotions that I didn’t think to pay attention to my surroundings. Had I only paid better attention to the weather, I might not have been caught out in the rain in the first place.”
The twins both winced at that, and Eugenia’s gut twisted. She hadn’t meant to make them feel guilty about what had happened.
“We just wanted to tell you we’re sorry for showing you that piece inThe Society Reporter,” Marjory murmured, her eyes downcast and a tear leaking down her cheek.
“We thought you deserved to know that they wrote something about you, but we didn’t mean for it to upset you so badly. If we’d known how deeply it would wound you, we never would have shown it to you.”
Millicent wrung her hands and met Eugenia’s gaze, revealing tears pooled in her blue eyes, as well.
“I suppose Matilda and Octavia were right, after all,” Marjory sniffled.
“No.” Eugenia held out a hand to each of the twins, beckoning them closer to her. The twins took her hands, both crying softly. “You were right. I did deserve to know what they wrote about me inThe Society Reporter, no matter how upsetting the piece itself may have been. I just dread finding out what Lord D’Asti must think of the fools I made of us both with my little outburst. So — for once — Matilda and Octavia were wrong about what I might want or need. Thank you for making me aware of the situation.”
Marjory and Millicent both looked up, their mouths hanging open in shock at what Eugenia had just told them. Eugenia knew, of course, that the twins were rarely given the credit they deserved because they were wild and spirited and terribly opinionated. She hoped that it would make them feel better, and that they wouldn’t torture themselves too much for showing her the piece.
Marjory and Millicent took turns giving Eugenia gentle hugs and kisses on the cheek.
“We hope you feel better soon. If there is anything either of us can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Millicent brushed Eugenia’s hair back from her forehead.
“Are you—” Marjory’s voice faltered, and she had to clear her throat and start over. “Are you afraid that Lord D’Asti won’t want you now, because of whatThe Society Reporterwrote about you?”
“Honestly?” Eugenia cringed. “Yes. It wouldn’t be the first time a scandal sheet has ruined someone’s courtship.”
“Well, if he can be driven away by something as silly as a bit of speculation in an idiotic scandal sheet — which I fully intend never to read again, by the way — then he does not deserve you, sister.”
Millicent’s eyes blazed with barely-contained fury and Eugenia sat up, pulling her into a fierce hug.
“It is sweet of you to say so. I just wish that I knew how he felt about this whole mess, but I have no way of knowing. He is not in London, and I do not know where to write to him, if not to his townhouse. Even if I did send a letter there, there is no way of knowing how long it might be before he sees it. Just the thought of it is exhausting.”
Marjory reached across Eugenia’s bed to tug on Millicent’s hand.
“Speaking of exhaustion, Eugenia should rest. I am sure the fever took quite a lot out of her.” Marjory — the elder of the two twins by ten minutes — turned a sympathetic, understandinggaze on Eugenia, then, and offered her a small smile. “Rest will help you recover.”
Part of me wishes I could sleep forever and not wake up. At least in my sleep I don’t have to think about how badly I’ve ruined things for myself.
Eugenia offered the twins a weak, wavering smile and burrowed down under the covers, the exhaustion dragging her back down into a miasma of fitful sleep and unsettling dreams before the twins had even closed her door behind them.
