Heart at risk

13. I wouldn't marry me either,

Penelope had been pacing her room for some time, the sound of her soft slippers barely making a noise on the polished wooden floor. The events of the evening weighed heavily on her mind, but even more so, the sight of the blood earlier had left her shaken. She had checked herself multiple times since then, each time relieved to find no further bleeding, no cramping—just an eerie calm that did little to soothe her fears.

The clock on the mantle ticked steadily, each passing minute only adding to her anxiety. She knew she needed to talk to someone, to find reassurance or at least share her burden. The thought of discussing this with Colin crossed her mind, but she quickly dismissed it. He was already so worried about her, and she didn't want to add to his stress. Besides, she wasn't sure she could handle his reaction, not with her own fears still so raw and undefined.

Instead, her thoughts turned to Rae, her servant, now housekeeper, who had been with the Featherington family for years. Or perhaps Eloise, whose blunt honesty and support had previously always been a source of comfort. But Rae was downstairs, likely asleep with the other servants, and Eloise...well, Eloise would be difficult to face after what had happened earlier. She stopped pacing, her decision made. She couldn't just stay here, consumed by worry. She needed to talk to Rae. If anyone could provide her with reassurance, it would be her.

Penelope moved quietly towards the door, pausing to listen. The house was silent, the kind of deep stillness that only comes in the dead of night. She crept out of her room, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

The hallway was dark, but she knew her way well enough not to need a candle. As she approached Colin's room, she hesitated. A part of her wanted to slip in, to check on him, to feel the comfort of his presence. But she knew she couldn't risk waking him, not when she was about to sneak downstairs.

She gently pushed open the door, just enough to peer inside. The room was dim, illuminated only by the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains. Colin was lying in bed, his broad shoulders visible even under the heavy covers. Penelope held her breath, hoping he was asleep, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could tell he wasn't.

He was lying on his back, his eyes closed but his breathing too measured, too controlled, to be truly asleep. Penelope's heart raced as she carefully closed the door, making sure it didn't creak. She turned and made her way down the stairs, her steps light and deliberate. The grand staircase led down to the main floor, but she didn't stop there. Instead, she continued down the narrower servants' staircase that led to the lower levels of the house.

The air grew cooler as she descended, the sounds of the household above fading into the background. At the bottom of the stairs, she paused, listening. The underground was quiet, the kind of quiet that spoke of deep, unbroken sleep.

She hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of her decision. This wasn't something she would normally do—venturing into the servants' quarters in the middle of the night—but tonight was different. She needed Rae. Moving as quietly as she could, Penelope made her way down the dimly lit corridor.

The stone walls were cool to the touch, and the flickering light of a single candle mounted on the wall cast eerie shadows. She knew Rae's room was at the far end of the corridor, near the small infirmary that was used for minor ailments and injuries. Penelope's footsteps were almost silent on the stone floor as she approached Rae's door.

She took a deep breath, then gently knocked, the sound barely more than a whisper. She hoped Rae would wake, but not so suddenly as to startle her. Penelope needed her calm, her steady presence more than ever. Penelope stood outside Rae's door, her hand still hovering near the wood after her soft knock. The sound had been so faint she wasn't sure it had been heard at all. She hesitated, her fingers brushing the door as she considered knocking again, but something held her back.