When Doctor Garin arrived at the manor, the wind had changed to a shuddering howl that threatened to throw one off their feet. Being neither light nor small, it was a trivial matter for him, and he enjoyed the pushes and pulls of the violent tempered weather.

"Lovely evening, isn't it, Foster?"

The butler took his coat in his reserved fashion as he stepped into the grandiose foyer. He gave the doctor a slight nod.

"Indeed, sir. However, I must inform you that Mrs. Lambert hopes you've met Master Wade along the road, as he's yet to return to the estate."

Garin turned sharply to look at the butler before turning on his heels and making his way to the drawing room. Mrs. Lambert, her black tresses pinned atop her head and a hideous purple and black shawl wrapped about her shoulders, stared morosely into the fire. Standing near the window, Miss Brightley's charming profile seemed to be filled with a lingering sadness intensified by the long shadows shading the corner of the room. Mr. Lambert, his expensive red cravat slightly askew, was, besides his daughter, the most composed and came over to shake the doctor's hand.

"You've seen him I hope, Garin? That runaway of ours has crossed your path, yes? Mrs. Lambert's quite anxious, but I'm sure you'll set matters straight."

"I've only just come from my last call on Mr. Fletchwater, sir. I haven't crossed paths with Wade but-"

"What did I tell you? If Garin hasn't seen him, he's up to no good!" And with all her willpower, she set her jaw and glared at a stately vase near the window.

He's gone because of Idrie, Mama."

All heads turned in Lori's direction. Even Miss Brightley stifled a gasp and pulled her focus from the fire to stare at the girl.

Lori, still in good humour since she decided not to take the situation as badly as her mother, yanked the knots from her doll's head with a rather savage force.

"What's that Lori?" said Mr. Lambert.

"Why, he hurried away after sending Idrie to have some tea, didn't he?" This was with a glance at Foster. "I know something was bothering you all day," she said, now turning to Miss Brightley. "You showed him your letter, and since you were so upset, I think he went to make sure your sister wasn't lost somewhere along the road. He didn't mention anything to me, mind you, but he had that look he wore when he went to look for Apple Dutch. Found him mangled by some stray dogs-poor thing-He was my cat, you see and-"

Garin cleared his throat, noting Miss Brightley had turned a pale shade of green.

"I hadn't finished what I was saying earlier."

He gave Lori a reproachful look before returning his focus to the grown ups.

"Wade asked me to tell you all not to wait on him, as he'll be running late."

"So! That's it then? You've gotten word from him after all. That makes me feel much better, Garin."

Mrs. Lambert sighed (a relieved one, at that) then quickly suggested they all go to dinner.

"I'd have stoned those mongrels that did away with my Apple Dutch, you know," said Lori, eyeing her doll's head with a scrupulous gaze. "But Wade made me promise not to, especially since I wouldn't know which one did it. Daddy made him a gravestone in the garden to make me feel better and I talk to him sometimes... Do you think I ought to cut her hair off, Daddy? She doesn't take good care of it as my other dolls do their own..."

As everyone disappeared from the room (Lori being the happiest since she couldn't fathom why supper had to be late in the first place), Miss Brightley drew Garin aside.

"You've spoken to him, then? Mr. Lambert, I mean?"

"He sent a friend to me on his behalf. I suppose since he knew his mother all too well, he wanted me to reassure her, and you," he added after a pause.

"You don't suppose Lori is right, do you? She knows her brother better than anyone, but I'd hate to think I've been a burden by causing him to go wandering about so late."

Garin gave her a patient smile.

"Believe me, Miss Brightley, when I say Wade always acts of his own accord; and this isn't his first time dashing headfirst into the night during an oncoming storm. Let's just say you may have given him a good excuse to do it this time."

"I just don't want to think Lizzy's out there somewhere. She isn't a skilled rider, you see, though she does well enough on clear days. During poor weather, however, I can't bear to think of it. She's a delicate soul, despite her determined ways."

The doctor was pleased to see this brought a faint smile to her face.

"Don't lose heart, dorogoy. If your sister is anything like you, I have no doubt she'll be fine."

For the first time, she really looked at him; she did not (as people often did when they glimpsed the reserved doctor) see the boring soul Miss Flynn reasoned him to be or one a girl would love to tease, as Miss Poe suggested. Before her stood a man with a presence, and a lingering depth to his soul that left a thousand words unsaid, like a kindling flame that tarnished and slowly burnt at an unread letter. The corners of Garin's lips carried the faintest hint of a smile, while the telltale signs of a genuine kindness glowed from the lines of his face. His startling blue eyes held a flicker of something unspoken, an understanding that transcended the current situation.

I suppose, dear reader, it is safe to say the two felt a stirring somewhere deep within themselves but as many others before (and I imagine a good many after!), they immediately put away this alien intruder and averted their gazes like children who've accidentally glimpsed their parents sharing an intimate kiss in the parlour (my darling brother had felt quite scandalised having witnessed such a thing himself at the tender age of seven). With a clear conscience, the two followed the family into the dining room for supper.

They were half-way through dinner when Wade's voice interrupted the strained conversation at the table. Servants rushed by in the direction of the drawing room.

"Good heavens, Wade, what is the matter?" Mrs. Lambert was second to Lori in reaching the room where she froze in the doorway and stared in an almost dumbstruck manner.

Wade, soaked to the skin, was bent over a flushed young woman whom he'd lain on the sofa. Before Mr. Lambert (who seldom did throw a fit no matter how curious or distraught he felt) could make any comment, Miss Brightley, peering over his shoulder, gave a sort of yelpish shriek and rushed into the room. She fell at the woman's side, brushing the slick, wet hair from her face.

"Lisabeth! She's pale and feverish!" Her anxious hands danced across the girl's forehead and neck.

Wade stepped back with a glazed look in his eyes.

"Where's Garin? She couldn't walk-said something was wrong with her foot. Horse got startled and threw her off, I think she was trying to say-at least before she fainted. Garin!"

Without a word, the doctor appeared at her side. After a long silence (broken only by the younger Miss Brightley's unsteady breathing), he addressed the room in a levelled tone.

"The ankle and arm are broken, and alongside that, her temperature is dangerously high."

He gave Miss Brightley (who seemed to be hanging onto his every word) a sympathetic yet stern look.

"I will need to set the bone and she's in no condition to travel back to her father's."

The lady of the house, having recovered from her initial shock, took charge at once. Wasting no time, she had Anne ready the room next to Miss Brightley's while the doctor went away to prepare for his patient. Wade, ignoring his mother's pleas to change out of his wet clothes and warm himself by the fire, insisted on carrying the younger Miss Brightley to her room while Lorri (for once in her odd nine years) managed to stay put near the fireplace.

"She won't die, will she, Daddy?" Her brown eyes, appearing twice their normal size, found her father's identical ones. Mr. Lambert drew her close, fondling her hair.

"Of course not, my darling. She's got a few broken bones, that's all. She'll be fine. Besides, Garin's here and he's the best doctor I know."

Lori's quiet gaze watched as everyone followed Wade and the invalid out of the room.

"If only he was here to save Apple Dutch..."

~

"Everyone is to leave," said the doctor once Wade had settled Lisabeth on the bed.

Without argument (which was to be expected with the tone he used) the servants all vacated and Wade, though hesitantly, followed suit. Garin, with a cool eye, looked at Miss Brightley, who remained on the opposite end of the bed. She gave him a hard look, and despite her distressed aura, her gaze was sharp and determined.

"I will stay and help because I refuse to leave her side again."

Garin studied her for a moment before nodding.

"I understand. But resetting her bones may be as painful for you as it will be for her. Perhaps you'd prefer to wait outside-"

Miss Brightley shook her head.

"No, I will remain here and bear it with her. So please, do not send me away."

And with an exhale, she bent and kissed Lisabeth's sweaty temple.

____________________________________________

Talk about a storm!

Poor Lisabeth! And poor Miss B!

Misfortunes cast the gloomiest clouds...

I suppose one may question why I find it difficult to supply more words in this little entry but I find I'm not up to the task at present.

Do not think ill of me as I take a moment to brood for Lisabeth's cries of pain prove an agony to hear...

Leave a star for the dear if you can.