"Everythin' possible has been done," agreed Lady Isabel. "But the surgeons do agree on one thing--the attacks are comin' closer tegither, and I willna survive much longer."

"I am so sorry," Elizabeth said, and then her voice faltered; what was there to say that would not sound insincere or even dishonest? "Is there nothing else I can do for you?"

"There is one thing," said Lady Isabel, pulling down her veil again. "Wad ye be sae kind as tae take a letter tae Faither Dupuis?"

Elizabeth had not been expecting this--a letter to the priest?--and she waited too long to answer.

Lady Isabel went very still, and her voice came cooler. "I see it wad be an imposition--"

"No," said Elizabeth. "No imposition at all. But I fear I may not be able to deliver it. Yesterday evening it seemed that Monsieur Dupuis would not live out the night. Perhaps he did not."

The crisis came on very quickly--first Lady Isabel was sitting and then she had fallen back in her chair, her whole body shaking. Flora leaped up from the ground to bend over her, and Elizabeth did the same.

Isabel had begun to perspire so heavily that the neck of her gown was already wet through. She moaned and rolled to her side, retching.

"A doctor," Elizabeth said. She was shaking, too. "We must summon her husband."

"Walter's left for Edinburgh, and she doesn't want a doctor," said Flora, her face ashen but her voice steady. "They can't do anything for her. Help me lift her, please, so I can hold her head in my lap." And then, raising her gaze to look Elizabeth directly in the eye: "This will pass in ten or fifteen minutes. She would want you to stay."

The convulsive trembling seemed to subside a little when they had settled her more comfortably, but her breathing was very fast and shallow. They had removed her hat and Elizabeth saw that her face with its unnatural coloration was swelling visibly. She shook her head and moaned again.

"Is she in great pain?"

"Just in her back," said the girl, in such a composed way that Elizabeth knew she must have seen these attacks many times before. "I believe the nausea is much more of a trial to her. But she has nothing on her stomach to bring up, you see."

Something of the girl's calm communicated itself to Elizabeth, and she watched silently for a moment as the shaking subsided and Lady Isabel's breathing began to return to normal. Flora stroked her brow gently, with the loving touch of a sister. Or a daughter, thought Elizabeth. She must have been quite young when Isabel came to take up residence with them. It was not surprising that they had formed a close bond, one of them an orphan by fate and the other by choice.

"What do you think brought this on?" she asked.

"She is very fond of Monsieur Dupuis," Flora said. "If she speaks of Carryckcastle at all, it is of him."

Elizabeth turned her face away, torn between distress--had her news of Dupuis's condition brought on this crisis?--and confusion. Did Flora know that Dupuis was a Catholic priest, and that Isabel had been raised in the Roman faith? Would she have shared such sensitive information with a child, even one as dear to her as this girl must be?

"It is passed," said Flora. "Isabel, come, you must change out of this damp gown."

Slowly Lady Isabel righted herself. She looked about with some confusion and then her gaze settled on Elizabeth.

"Mrs. Bonner," she said, her voice so weak that it was hard to make her out. "I must see Monsieur Dupuis afore he dies. Do ye think there's any chance o' that?"

"I suppose--" Elizabeth faltered. "I suppose there might be. But in your condition ..."

"I must see him," said Lady Isabel. "Flora, call for the carriage straightawa'."

30

In a half hour of intense activity all was made ready. From a chair in the hall--she was too weak to walk or even stand--Lady Isabel directed the preparations. She would brook no discussion of doctors; she would not allow Flora to accompany her.

"Think," she said to the despairing girl. "Think what Breadalbane wad make o' it, should he hear ye're at Carryckcastle. Do ye want a war foucht ower ye?"

The housekeeper, weeping openly, brought a hastily packed bag to the footman.

"Dinna greet, Mrs. Fitzwilliam," Isabel comforted her. "It will aa be weel in the end." Then she turned to Elizabeth.

"Shall we send word ahead so that your guidman can make ready?"

"No," said Elizabeth. "I think it would be better if I told him of this ... change of plan."

Lady Isabel simply assumed that they would travel with her, and Elizabeth did not even think of opposing her. She did not like to imagine what would happen if she were to have another crisis alone in the carriage. And the quicker they were to return to Carryckcastle--she thought of Hawkeye and Robbie and Will coming face-to-face with Moncrieff--the better.

"We will come by the Black Bull in a quarter hour," said Lady Isabel.

Elizabeth was almost out the door before Flora caught up with her. The young girl wiped her face with the back of her hand and drew in a deep breath to steady herself.

"She will have her way no matter what I say, but she need not suffer." She pressed a bottle into Elizabeth's hand. "Laudanum. It would be better if she slept during the journey."

"I will do what I can for her." Elizabeth wanted to offer the girl some words of comfort, but it would be no use at all: she knew what was ahead, and she could not be consoled.