Read Online Enlightened by Joanna Chambers - Free Book Online Page B

than a few days, I would think. Every morning he wakes is a blessing now.”
    The solid lump of grief in David’s throat felt like it was choking him. Mrs. Jessop spared his pride by turning away.
    “Come,” she said. “I’ll take you to him.”
    Somehow, David shambled himself back together again and followed her out into the hall. They ascended the broad, winding staircase together, David’s eyes fixed on the nurse’s dove-grey skirts.
    She led him to one of the bedchambers and knocked softly at the door before opening it a crack. “Mr. Chalmers, I have someone to see you.”
    “Come in,” said a weak, listless voice, barely recognisable to David. Mrs. Jessop opened the door all the way, stepping to one side to allow David to precede her.
    The man who lay against the white pillows in Chalmers’s bed was a stranger. The last time David had seen his friend, he’d looked unwell—thinner and frailer—but this was something else altogether. Now he was shrunk to skin and bones, and his face was gaunt. In the morning light, his sallow skin had a papery look, and his once twinkling eyes were dull and sunken.
    When his gaze alighted on David, though, that terrible death mask somehow cracked for a moment and David saw a glimpse of his old friend.
    “David—”
    Chalmers began struggling—and failing—to raise himself up on one elbow. David stepped forward to help, wondering how to do so, but before he could formulate a plan, Mrs. Jessop was at Chalmers’s side, doing something discreet and easy looking with a pile of pillows. Half a minute later, Chalmers was sitting up, in a fashion, reclining against a great snowy bolster the nurse had made for him.
    “There now,” she said. “I’ll leave you, but I’ll bring some tea up in a little while, shall I?” She didn’t wait for an answer but smoothly glided away, closing the door behind her with a tiny click.
    “My friend,” David said softly, walking forward. “It’s good to see you.”
    “And you, lad.” Chalmers’s thin voice was a mere whisper, but somehow he imbued the words he uttered with a rich mix of emotions, relief and pleasure and sorrow all at once.
    David sat himself down in the single empty chair beside the bed. Chalmers raised his right hand in a weak greeting, and David took it between both of his own. Shocked by how cold and brittle it felt, he chafed it gently between his fingers. When he looked at Chalmers’s face again, he was horrified to feel tears leap into his eyes.
    Ducking his head, he muttered, “I’m sorry.”  
    But Chalmers merely gave a wheezy chuckle. “Don’t be. I’m gratified to—to merit tears.”
    David managed a faint chuckle of his own at that typically Chalmers comment, though it was a sad effort, in truth.
    “I’m glad you got here in time, lad. Before I—”
    “Don’t—”
    “—before I die,” Chalmers continued with gentle emphasis, adding with a sad smile, “It won’t be long now, lad.” He fell silent then, for so long that David wondered if he had it in him to talk anymore.
    “Do you have something you want to tell me?” David prompted after a while. “Or something to ask of me? You know I will do whatever is in my power.”
    “I know,” Chalmers breathed. “You have been a good friend to me. And yes, I have something to—ask.”
    “Name it.”
    “I’ll come to it. First, have you seen Kitty and Donald?”
    David nodded. “Last night, I dined with them.”
    “Then you’ll know how”—he seemed to search for words, and perhaps also for breath—“how delicate Kitty is.”
    David paused, unsure how much to say. In the end, he settled for, “Kitty’ll be all right. Donald will take care of her. You know that, don’t you?”
    Chalmers nodded. “Donald’s a good lad.” He closed his eyes, his brow furrowing as though he was in pain, while his thin chest rose and fell with his shaky breaths.
    When he opened his eyes again, he said sadly, “Poor Kitty. She was always—always