An Evening Visit

[Jacob Swainswick]

Not for the first time did Jacob Swainswick find himself having to skirt a line between the demands of decorum and the constraints of awkward geometry: in this instance, the narrowness of the corridor rather precluded him from simply picking the small young figure up in his arms. Instead:

"I'll, ah, take her arms," he directed, "if you'd be so kind as to attend to her feet."

As it is, an unconscious young woman is less wieldy than might at first be assumed by the casual reader of cheap literature: although far be it from us to use so crude a term as dead weight for one so disadvantaged. Swainswick found that he had - with much clearing of throat and looking away - to loop his arms around the young girl's torso before he and Alberts could lift her securely.

"I do beg your pardon, Miss Audley," he offered, blushing; fortunately, to deposit and appropriately bolster with cushions their young charge did not take long. Alberts offered the stoppered bottle of salts to Miss Audley, then both men took the opportunity to step back, grateful that the incident was under control of more delicate hands, and promising themselves that they'd not speak of it again.

Swainswick nodded a quick, "at once," at the reminder for brandy and vanished in the direction of the kitchen.

[Valentina Audley]

Keeping her face schooled into an expression of kindly concern was tricky, but Valentina managed it as the men manhandled the girl back onto the sofa. Her good humour restored by the incident she draped an embroidered throw over the girl, so that no accidental flashes of ankle could occur and then waved the smelling salts under the Selena's nose.

"Wake up my dear! We've been so very worried about you!" She clasps the girls limp hand in her free hand and waits to see if the salts do the trick. They should do because they were, not to put to fine a point on it, vile.

[Selena Ash]

Vast mathematical silence and impenetrable darkness. Yes. For a while. But some perverse gravity had forced her back, to the room's details, to the rolling boil of full awareness as a most acrid scent filled Selena's nostrils.
Is that vinegar?

Lashes fluttered. The girl's nose scrunched up prettily.

She was on the sofa again, though she didn't remember lying down. Selena blinked sluggishly as her vision came into focus, the odd weight of nausea dragging at her awareness. She experienced an urge to rub her eyes but ignored it in favour of grasping at the source of the sound. She inched open her eyes, dark brow pinched.

And was met with blurred blue.

There existed only that brightness at first, the colour having swallowed the night. That, and a pleasant sensation against her hair.
"Where am I...?"

[Valentina Audley]

Valentina swiftly corks the salts and holds them out to Jacob. She turns back to the girl and smoothes an errant wisp of hair back from the face.

"My poor Miss Ash, you are upon the sofa in my sitting room. You fainted darling, do you remember?"

She turns once more to Jacob and motions for the brandy.

"You must sit up and sip a little of this, to restore your spirits."

[Selena Ash]

Selena blinked rapidly.

"I... I did?" came a most intelligent reply. "Y-es, yes, of course. Where is my bonnet?"

The girl groped wildly around her head and neck, the tell-tale weight of it missing.

More importantly, however, as she processed her proximal location,

"Oh!" she flushed, and attempted to right herself on the couch. "I did not intend to fall upon you, Miss Valentina I am so very sorry. How disgraceful." She sounded miserable. "I have never been good with the sight of, ah, well, you understand, yes?"

She took the offered beverage and sipped, once, before making a face.

[Valentina Audley]

"Nonsense darling, I quite understand. I suffer the same thing with spiders." The last is said quietly so that Alberts and Jacob don't overhear and comes with a conspiritorial wink.

"As for your bonnet, I believe it's currently still residing in the hallway, but I'm sure Mr Swainswick can return it to you the very moment you are ready to sit without help. For which" she turns gently admonishing "you must finish your drink."

Valentina is helping Selena to sit as she talks, hoping Jacob takes the hint and goes to collect the offending article of headwear.

[Jacob Swainswick]

Swainswick didn't need telling twice; indeed, he prided himself on seldom needing telling once: but a young lady in distress represented a point of extremis.

He paused briefly in the act of stooping for the bonnet. It seemed undamaged - and the floors were kept scrupulously clean. He reflected upon what had just passed.

Whilst the sight of blood had had no effect upon his mistress, the paroxysm it had engendered in their guest was not of the kind that he would have anticipated, had his initial guess been correct. Despite her pallor, and her fainting, her skin had been rather warm to the touch (and here he blushed again to think of it). By comparison, in that unguarded moment when Miss Audley had laid her hand on his - a casual act that nonetheless burned itself into his memory - her fingers had possessed a coolness that he had later tentatively ascribed to her peculiar condition.

It could well be, then, that his initial suspicions had been mistaken.

He straightened, considering.

"I have it," he announced, returning. "No harm is done to it. Are you feeling a little better, Miss Ash?"

[Selena Ash]

"Thank you Mr. Swainswick," Selena accepted the bonnet a touch reverently, her fingers dancing nervously over the trim. "It does seem unharmed." She peeked up at him, shyly took in the dark blue eyes and boyish locks. How had she gotten to the sofa? Had Mr. Swainswick...?

"You are most kind," she squeaked, a little higher than desired. Meanwhile the girl's mind busied itself with falling into rapid romantic distress.

"I feel terribly silly for so small a thing. And I should not have followed you Miss Audley, it was absolutely unnecessary. I was only concerned after that loud noise." And curious - but this needn't be said aloud. "Why was Mr. Alberts so poorly? What happened? Is he well?"

[Jacob Swainswick]

"I'm quite well, Miss Ash," Alberts coughed.

"Just a tiny mishap, my fault," Swainswick shrugged slightly. "It would take rather more than a small nick to floor the redoubtable Mr. Alberts, eh?" He favoured the follow with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyes twinkling as the gentlemen made suitable light of the matter.

"What matters to us is your swift recovery, Miss Ash. Are you certain that you're quite well? I do hope that this small adventure has not put you off our little establishment."

[Selena Ash]

"Oh no, Mr. Swainswick, nothing of the sort, you have all been most generous to my tribulation. I have never had much heart with... Oh, never we mind. I am quite well, thank you. Perhaps a little dizzy but beyond it no well wishes need be made."

"I should not keep you on account of concern. Perhaps, Mr. Alberts, we might arrange an evening to return? If that would not be so bold, Miss Valentina?"