A gasp sounded nearby, and someone clutched her raised hand. “Marian?” Ellen’s voice was above her, and it was laced with excitement. “Marian, can you hear me?”
Marian willed her eyes to open, put all her energy into making her lids move. Once again, she was surprised when her lashes flitted up, and she was able to see Ellen’s face hovering above hers. That face she’d never expected to see again, that cover-model oval-shape with her dainty chin and prominent cheekbones. Even though Ellen’s eyes were ringed with dark circles and weary lines creased her forehead, the sight was beautiful.
“Her eyes are open!” Ellen was smiling even as her voice wobbled and tears began to roll down her cheeks.
Marian wasn’t sure what was happening, but she knew she couldn’t waste time expressing her warning. “Jasper.” Her voice was hardly a whisper and was hoarse from disuse.
“Don’t worry.” Ellen squeezed her hand. “He stepped out for a few minutes and will be back soon.”
Marian tried to shake her head but only managed an exasperated breath. She shifted a fraction and found Harrison in his wheelchair beside her bed. His dark hair was slightly mussed, as though wind-tossed, but otherwise he was immaculately groomed as always in a crisp suit, matching vest, and bow tie. Through his thick spectacles, he regarded her anxiously.
“He’ll be glad to see you’re awake.” Tears still ran unchecked down Ellen’s cheeks.
Awake? Marian shook her head. No, she wouldn’t be there much longer. She had to warn them before she was whisked back into the past. “Don’t trust him.”
Ellen’s forehead crinkled with confusion. “Trust whom?”
“Jasper.” Marian’s eyelids fell and exhaustion dulled her senses. She felt herself slipping away from them, and then sleep claimed her.
* * *
Marian woke with a start. She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept again. All she knew was that she needed to check on Will. However, the drowsiness was so thick she felt as though she were climbing uphill through a dense fog.
“Will?” she managed to croak, praying he was completely restored.
A hand stroked her forehead, easing back her hair. It was too soft and feminine to be Will’s and had a clean lemony-lavender scent.
“Where’s Will?” she asked again, her voice gaining strength.
“Who’s Will?”
Marian’s eyes shot open. Ellen was sitting at the side of the bed. “Ellen? What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you to wake up.”
Harrison was there again too, a stack of old, musty books on his lap, the top one open.
Marian glanced around the room to the sight of glass windowpanes, modern furniture, the open walk-in closet that led to the spacious boudoir with the bathroom door wide open, revealing the shower.
With each detail she took in, the horror inside swelled until it was an uncaged beast on the loose. She tried to sit up against the hard mattress of a hospital bed, but her limbs were too weak—atrophied from lack of use.
Her gaze returned to Ellen, and she could only look at her sister with utter despair. “What did you do?”
Ellen’s smile dimmed until it disappeared altogether. “I don’t understand.”
“The ampulla was for you. Not me.” Marian’s voice came out stronger and clearer. She wasn’t simply visiting the present time after ingesting holy water residue or having a time-slip overlap. No. She was back, had fully awakened from her coma.
Ellen’s lovely features were haggard, the strain of all that had happened taking its toll on her already taxed body. “I can’t believe you thought I’d drink the water while you were dying.”
“I wasn’t dying.” At least not yet.
“I’ve been worried sick about you since I arrived and found you in a coma, wondering which day would be your last, thinking I’d lose you like I lost Dad.” Distress punctuated each word, and Harrison gently rubbed Ellen’s arm as though to soothe her. “How could you believe for one second I’d give you up if there was even the slightest chance I could have you back?”
Marian’s throat clogged with the need to weep, and she let her lashes fall lest Ellen see the truth in her eyes. The truth that she hadn’t fully comprehended until this moment—that she hadn’t wanted to come back, that all she wanted to do was wake up in 1381 and be in Will’s arms, that she ached for him and didn’t know how she could live without him.
Not only had Ellen ripped her away from the man she loved, but now Ellen might have doomed herself. It was only a matter of time before the tumors came back—probably sooner rather than later with all the stress.
“It wasn’t just my decision.” As though sensing Marian’s turmoil, Ellen’s voice rang with defensiveness. “Harrison and I both agreed that if you were able to get an ampulla into the crypt, we’d give it to you. It was the least we could do for you.”
Marian wasn’t sure if she trusted her voice to work. But she opened her eyes and reached for Ellen’s hand, squeezing it between hers. “I carved your initials into it.” But even as she said the words, she knew she couldn’t blame Ellen.
Marian had known she was taking a chance that this very thing might happen when she’d given Will one of the ampullae. She’d hoped Harrison would convince Ellen to drink the holy water, but she’d also known her sister might refuse. Ellen was too kind, too giving, too sacrificial to do anything that might jeopardize someone else. With only one ampulla, Marian had practically given Ellen no choice in the matter.
Tears swelled in Marian’s eyes. She may have saved the man she loved, but he was lost to her all the same. Now, unless they uncovered the original spring at St. Sepulchre, Ellen would be lost too.
Whatever the case, Marian was here now. And she wanted to make the most of her time with her sister. “I love you. And I’m so glad I get to say it again.” Marian held out her arms.
Ellen choked on a sob and dropped into Marian’s embrace.
* * *
Harrison’s private nurse and doctor came to Chesterfield Park to assess Marian’s vitals and to remove all the monitors and tubes that had helped her live over the past two and a half weeks.
The medical professionals finished their examination and declared her 100 percent recovered. The astonishment on their faces as they’d exited would have been comical if Marian hadn’t been so shaken by the turn of events.
Once Marian was sitting up in bed with a cup of freshly brewed coffee and piece of toast, Harrison and Ellen explained all that had transpired in her absence. Harrison hadn’t known who took him captive that day in the crypt. His kidnappers blindfolded and drove him to what he believed was a secret underground laboratory where they bullied, interrogated, and bribed him for several days before dropping him back off at the cathedral.
He’d been bruised and hungry but otherwise hadn’t been harmed. Perhaps they decided he didn’t know enough about Arthur Creighton’s miracle cure. Or they realized he wasn’t planning to give away any information and would be more useful to them alive than dead.
In the meantime, during Harrison’s captivity, Ellen arrived only to discover Marian was in a coma. She knew right away Marian’s condition was somehow connected to their dad’s. Even though she wanted to transport Marian to the best medical facility and get more help, she honored Marian’s wishes to remain at Chesterfield Park and instead arranged for home health care.