45: Telling him

*Ben*

I wait as long as I can. When the ladies don’t return straightaway to inform me that all is well, I head upstairs and barge into the bedchamber without bothering to knock. That Minerva and Julia are sitting on either side of Skye, holding her hands, causes cold dread to wash over me. While I have never witnessed a deathbed scene, what I see is exactly how I imagine it would be. Skye’s cheeks hold no rosy hue. Her eyes don’t light up with challenge at my arrival.

My father likes Skye immensely. I don’t know if my sire would survive losing her if she is to succumb to an illness and become another woman who has died too young within this residence.

“I’ll send for a physician,” I bark, despising that I seem unable to react with any sort of rational thought.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Minerva says, rising to her feet, smiling softly.

The smile unmans me. “What’s wrong with her then?”

“We’ll let her tell you.”

As Minerva and Julia walk out, I try to take solace in the fa