She could imagine that the patients who didn’t make it under her care were coming to get her, intestines wrapped around their necks, brains leaking ...ut through eyes. Someone was pounding on the door and calling out. Jane trembled, sobbing, her arms wrapped around herself. The lock clicked and the door swing open. Michael stood there, wearing a white shirt (whose sleeves where rolled up) and an apron around his waist. He held a lantern in one hand, and a bag of candles in another. Jane was. She would retell of their loveliness together in her own words describing the marvel of their intimacy. She reflected on Sir William’s handsomeness, his strength, his manliness and his features using the best of her words to keep his memory fresh in Cecelia’s thoughts as well as to brighten her spirit. Often these remembrances seemed to remedy her Lady’s troubled soul. Yet there was intimacy she was unable to describe. Lydia’s virgin heart comprehended none of it even in the depths of. More

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