Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 117: Drowning Her Sorrows In Rum

Chapter 117: Drowning Her Sorrows In Rum

Evening.

Bedroom, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

***************

Lydia’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes dulled by tears and exhaustion.

"Theodore" came her low whisper, it is tinged with agony. Helena had left just earlier.

"Gooseberry" Theodore whispered blinking rapidly.

He had been staring at her for a while now, till his vision had blurred and he didn’t see her eyes open.

The evening sun filtered through the lace curtains, it cast delicate patterns on Lydia’s pale face as she stirred from her troubled slumber.

He watched her with tender eyes, his hand gently clasping hers, offering what little comfort he could muster.

He held her face with care. "Hey, how... I shall get the physician" he attempted to leave, the bed dipped, but she grabbed his wrist.

"Why, Theodore?" his heart cracked at that question because he knew what was to come next.

"Why did my child have to go for something It doesn’t know about, reasons I do not know!" she wailed, her chin quivering.

She felt a dull ache but still, she sat up, Theodore tried to help her rest on the board but she held his arms tightly. "It is gone for sins it did not commit" she shivered.

He held her eyes, heartbreaking and vulnerable as he whispered. "It saved you Gooseberry" he wiped her tears. "Our baby saved your life" he pacified.

She shook her head, his arm falling from the impact. "I do not want that, I want my baby" she whispered in pain.

He blinked. "It shall be with you again" his words.

She looked at a space, her mind whirling. "I thought I was sick, I thought I was only missing you" she started. Her heart shuddered as much as her lips were. "I had only gone down to the kitchen and drank water" she completed "Water, I didn’t do anything!" She added.

"Theodore..." she trailed into a sob, one that was heart-wrenching and broke his heart.

In the dimly lit room of their bedroom, Theodore sat by her bedside, his heart heavy with sorrow.

The lines of pain etched on her face told the story of the night’s tragedy, the loss of their unborn child.

He longed to ease her suffering, to erase the anguish that clouded her delicate features. But words failed him in the face of such profound grief.

"Lydia" he whispered.

Silent tears welled in his eyes as he held her close, knowing that their love would be their solace in this time of despair.

Together, they would endure the ache of loss and find strength in each other’s embrace.

He does her into a steady hug, comforting and full, he breathes her in as she does him. They stayed like that for a while.

"Lord Theodore?"

A voice came in through the door, it sounded unhurried but he knew she must be eager to see Lydia.

Lydia grumbled, holding onto her husband, she’d missed him and despite the agony, she wanted her husband closer.

"That is Helena, Gooseberry" he said softly not actively wanting to part with her but needing her to be well for him.

Lydia’s eyes brightened, as bright as they could get with her eyes swollen and red. "She is here?" she released herself from his hug, holding his now calm blue ones.

Theodore nodded. "She came for you," he said softly. "She saved you" he added with a sigh as he did something he didn’t wish to do.

He left Lydia alone in the bedroom.

*

* *

*

Evening.

Bedroom, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

**************

Helena stepped inside the room with a pout. "Lydia sweety, come here" She opened her arms as she rushed to the bed.

"Helena..." Lydia breathed as she trailed off into a sob.

Helena gathered Lydia in her arms, pressing Lydia’s face into her chest. "Oh sweety, I am so sorry I was not here" she confessed.

After a while, she pushed Lydia away gently as they’re identical eyes with equally identical emotions held each other. "How do you feel? Your body I mean" Helena asked.

Lydia shrugged. "I do not know, I cannot listen" her body was here but her mind was not.

Helena nodded, she could not understand but she felt it. "You shall be ok, again" she promised.

Lydia shook her head. "I should have known, I would have protected it better" she said.

"It is not your fault" Helena advised because to her it was not Lydia’s fault.

"Can you please call the maids for me?"

Helena looked to the door intending to do for it when it swang open, Dorothy peaked in. "Lady Theodore?"

"Oh here they are" Helena smiled.

"Dorothy please bring me a jug of rum" Lydia ordered as kindly as possible.

Dorothy’s eyes widened as Joyous too stepped in.

Rum?

Helena cleared her throat. "Lydia I do not think you should have rum right now, it is not good for your health and with your miscarriage I advise you stay clear of it for a while" she said.

Lydia scoffed as she regarded Helena. "You talk about rum so horribly when water did this to me" she pointed out.

Helena gulped. "I am sorry" she whispered.

The maids turn around to get it.

Lydia started to sob again. "Helena, it hurts, why did she do it?" she asked.

Helena shuddered, she hated this. "Why did kill she my child?"

"She wanted to kill you Lydia" Helena said, her voice louder than intended.

Lydia nodded, her chin tight. "I was anything but horrible to her, I was kind, generous and open minded" she recalled.

Helena agreed because, Lydia despite sassy and brave is one of the kindest people she has met, her maids are comfortable around her and she is never pompous, but a certain maid wouldn’t agree to that it appears.

"Why?" her sad sob came again.

"When we find her, I shall personally investigate her" Helena promised.

The maids couldn’t step inside, they were right outside the door with their hearts bleeding too.

Helena couldn’t stand the bear the agony in the air because she felt it in her veins, it affects her and she finds it hard to breathe. So she stepped out, letting the maids in.

As the distant cries of her sister echoed through the halls, a pang of anguish pierced her heart. Though miles apart, she felt an inexplicable connection to her sister’s pain, as if it were her own. Tears welled in her eyes, mirroring the grief that consumed her beloved sibling.

"Helena" she heard Conan’s voice making her pause in her walk that didn’t have destination. She turned to him, her eyes glassy.

"Conan" she whispered and without thinking she approached him, he opened his arms and engulfes her in his strong arms.

In the solitude of his arms, she longed to be by her sister’s side, to offer solace and strength in her darkest hour but she wasn’t strong enough.

Guilt gnawed at her conscience, wishing she had been present to shield her from harm. The thought of the maid’s betrayal ignited a fierce rage within her, a primal urge to protect her kin at all costs.

With clenched fists and trembling resolve, she imagined herself confronting the assailant, ready to fight tooth and nail to defend her sister’s honor.

Yet, bound by distance and the circumstance of her light emotion, she could only pray for her sister’s healing and vow to be her unwavering support in the days to come.

"I’m sorry" Conan whispered, pressing her into him.

He felt equally guilty, he had asked if the girls were trusted but he hadn’t taken his own time to investigate them. He had been lenient and this is what it costs now.

************

Bedroom

************

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, in her bedroom, Lydia sat upon her plush velvet chaise longue, a crystal decanter of rum clasped tightly in her trembling hand.

Her once vibrant eyes, now dulled by grief, stared vacantly into the distance as she lifted the ornate goblet to her lips, the amber liquid burning a path down her throat, momentarily dulling the ache in her heart.

But her body too was aching.

The bedroom was steeped in amenity, with rich mahogany furniture adorned with intricate carvings, and delicate porcelain vases filled with fragrant blooms. But amidst the splendidness, there lingered an air of melancholy, as if the very walls were mourning alongside their lady.

Standing dutifully by her side were Joyous and Dorothy, their expressions a mix of concern and sorrow.

Their starched aprons and crisp uniforms were a stark contrast to Lady Theodore’s disheveled appearance, her once immaculate curls now hanging limply around her pale face and they couldn’t ask to tend to her.

As she took another sip of the fiery liquor, her thoughts drifted back to the child she had lost, the tiny life that had been snuffed out before it had a chance to bloom.

The pain was still raw, a constant reminder of what could have been, she touched her stomach. It us gone.

But for now, in the hazy embrace of her rum, she could forget.

Forget the whispers of sympathy that followed her every move, forget the ache in her empty arms, forget the hollow feeling that gnawed at her soul.

And so, in the dim light of her bedroom, surrounded by her maids and the trappings of her privileged existence.

Lady Lydia sought solace in the only way she is beginning to love, drowning her sorrows in a sea of rum and regret.

Theodore shall soon join her.