CWMBR 3

Chapter 3

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"You’re still not feeling well."

"I know."

A grim-faced Bridget replied, pulling down her rolled-up sleeves. The gray-haired doctor sitting across from her urged in a worried tone.

"That means you're not in good enough shape for a long trip yet."

"I wouldn't call it a long-term move for three days."

She said in a nonchalant tone, and the doctor gave her a stern look.

"My lady."

"It takes a full day just to get from the mansion to the nearest town, and it takes at least a day to get anywhere anyway, so what's the harm in adding two days to that?"

"I know it's out in the middle of nowhere."

With no resident doctor at the mansion, she was forced to wait for an outside doctor to visit.

Even then, the manor's remote location in the mountains made it difficult to find anyone willing to come. The geriatrician in front of her was old enough not to travel the rough roads, and if it weren't for his long-standing relationship with the Penningtons, he wouldn't have bothered to make the trip.

"I'm sorry for the trouble, Magnus."

Magnus, Bridget's de facto unofficial doctor, had been with her from her pregnancy through her miscarriage, and was the first person to come running through the rain when he heard the news. He was the only reason she was still breathing, she often thought.

"I don't mean to be mean, I know how hard it is for you to get out of here."

"Magnus."

"Your body has not yet recovered enough to endure such a journey."

Bridget looked at Magnus, who spoke with a stern demeanor, then asked quietly.

"Do you think a few more days here will bring my body back to full strength?"

Magnus's jaw dropped at that; he wasn't so clueless as to not know what she was being treated like here.

He hadn't witnessed anything conclusive in his visits to the manor, but he at least had an idea of how much it might be contributing to his patient's deteriorating condition.

And, crucially, rumors.

Ain Wise's marriage to Bridget Pennington was rumored to be a disaster from the start.

Ain never once responded to the rumors, and this staged response lent credence to the rumors. The fact that Bridget Pennington never left her secluded mansion and never left the house after their marriage also fueled the vicious imagination.

If the annulment of their marriage was granted, as Ain hoped it would be, it was not hard to see how much attention Bridget would receive on her return to society.

Nevertheless, Bridget said she would leave the manor at once, despite Magnus's urging that she wait until she had recovered a little more.

The old, friendly title slipped out of Magnus's mouth. His words were filled with resentment, but Bridget calmly interrupted him.

"That's enough, Magnus."

Bridget patted Magnus's wrinkled hand and spoke in a dry tone.

"I don't want to think about it anymore, it doesn't mean anything."

Bridget touched her own wrist. She'd lost enough weight that she could squeeze her wrist with one hand and still have plenty of room. She had lost so much weight since her pregnancy that she was almost skeletal. It would have been impossible to protect her child in this shape. Bridget realized this only now.

From the beginning, she had been undeserving of the baby. It was a blessing she couldn't handle, and here she was. She blamed her husband for not taking care of her and the hired help for not taking care of her, and depression settled in like a habit.

Thinking about her child, yes. She was depressed. Even sadness felt like a luxury because she felt like a sinner for not protecting her baby.

She just felt like she was suffocating in a never-ending downward spiral.

"..................I couldn't get the marks out."

The carpet, all the way down. The drops of blood had left a darker stain than she'd expected. On the floor, and in Bridget's mind.

"They want me to vacate the room so they can refinish the floor."

Bridget laughed bitterly. Someone had spoken up in front of her. Someone must have gotten animal blood from somewhere and splashed it around. What a strange way to fake a bleeding.

They shooed her out of the room, using cleaning as an excuse, as if they didn't even see her red soaked dress.

"Magnus."

Bridget clutched the hem of her skirt in her lap, trying to steady her increasingly labored breathing. Her knuckles turned white as she forced herself to keep her voice from shaking.

"I just don't want to see you like that."

Unable to stare at her any longer, Magnus finally turned away.

"I'll prescribe some medication for you, painkillers and sleeping pills and................... No, I'll just make sure you're properly equipped and come back for another visit, and then we'll leave together. With me present, you'll be able to handle any emergencies."

"You can't make it that much of a hassle."

"I'm much more comfortable this way than sitting around and worrying."

"......Thank you."

It was a generous gesture on Bridget's part, but Magnus felt it wasn't enough. Feeling bad that this was all he could do, Magnus suddenly asked.

"Do you have anything else scheduled?"

There was no such thing. After her pregnancy, Bridget had not only withdrawn from all formal social activities since her marriage, but she had no contact with the outside world.

If she listened to the news, it was all finger-pointing and gossip, and she didn't need the added distraction of her ill health, her relationship with Ain, and the whispering at the manor. It was much better to not look for them at all.

With what little energy she has left, she checked the papers on the Great Theater, but they had been less than forthcoming.

Bridget thought of Ronan, who had stepped in as her manager to look after the Great Theater.

Ronan, her father's twin brother and her uncle, had tentatively accepted that Bridget would leave the theater entirely after her marriage. He'd never been a fan of her running things, and he'd be pretty upset when she came back. She was sure he would give her more menial tasks to keep her off the front lines.

But she couldn’t  just sit on her hands forever. It only took one time before she’d been so overwhelmed with grief that she turned everything important over to Ronan.

"Finn Emerson came to see me recently."

"He did?"

"He asked how his lady was, and I didn't answer."

"He wants to know all sorts of things."

"He seemed very worried about you, but..................."

"I don't think he has any reason to be worried about me, Magnus."

Bridget understood what Magnus was hinting at, but she pretended not to.

Hearing Finn Emerson's name brought back memories she'd long since forgotten. It hadn't been that long ago, but it seemed like a long time ago.

Finn Emerson, Donna Greene..................... were all names she had kept to herself in the months since she had gotten married and moved into the mansion.

Which meant they were names she would have to face again when she left this place.

Ah, a secluded, remote mansion, full of inconveniences, with the only good thing about it being that she didn't realize it until it was time to leave.

"..................Glynford remains the same. Why don't you take up your abode somewhere else?"

Magnus looked thoughtful, remembering the uproar Bridget had been in when she left Glynford, shortly before their marriage. As if sensing his concern, Bridget smiled faintly.

"I don't know where else to live, Glynford Great Hall is all I have left."

"You'll have to go back and see how much more Donna and Ronan will try to treat you like a prude.................."

"I'm still the owner of the theater."

Even if she was the owner in name only, for now.

"I am the master, Magnus."

Bridget repeated over and over again, as if to herself.

What else was there left in her life? After losing her child in the womb and being thrown out on the streets, Bridget had only one place to return to: Glynford's Great Theater.

Funnily enough, the old, cold building was the only thing that hadn’t changed. It didn’t leave or abandon her first.

Only she did.

In the past, Bridget couldn't accept this fact and kept wandering away. She had a hard time taking care of her parents' legacy, and she was busy longing for the happiness of the past. Perhaps subconsciously, she even wanted to leave Glynford.

"If what you say is true, I’ll take responsibility."

Ain’s expression was icy as he spoke those words.

“Put your name on the Wise family."

She'd been caught up in the illusion that love would save her.

***

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