She seemed to sigh in what sounded like frustration, though it was easy enough to tell it wasn't from him asking, but rather trying to answer. Her eyes opened and she looked at the ceiling, seemed to be doing the math and the gears were a bit rusty at the moment as the turned in her head. Then she looked at him, "My mind? Perhaps before I was with the fisherman. Moreso in the last week or so.... My body.... Several days, I... Don't remember my days right now," she choked out and started to cry a little, but then mushed her fingers over the tears to swipe at them.

"Please don't make me give my baby away, I can't bear losing someone else that I love." She looked at him with such raw emotion as to be palpable, she had truly found some joy in her situation somehow even as grim as reality was. This was the most sincere emotion she had ever let him see from her, showing she did trust him, that she really was frightened and going through all sorts of turmoil inside.

"Dr. Wells, I just want him to leave me alone and stop tormenting me. I see him every day now, looming over me, taunting me about what he did, bragging about the suffering. He took everything and everyone from me. Why can't he just let me be?" And then she sort of rolled so he could no longer see her face for the glimpse of shame he might see, but there was no way he would miss it, it was etched in every aspect of her face before she hid it.

Tristan had meant her physical illness. He had not considered that the insanity was not temporary, though he knew that she was struggling with painful emotions.

“It’s alright,” he quickly said when she began to cry. “No- nobody is going to take your baby away, Pippa.” The new information raised some considerable new difficulties for her future, but he decided that now would not be the right time to speak of them

And then it came, the admission. She truly had suffered insanity for longer. The pistol in his desk drawer had been purchased in vain. But he hardly felt relief.

He moved back to sit in an armchair and was quiet for a moment. He watched the poor lonely child whose face was now averted in shame. He knew what had to be done.

“He's in your mind, Pippa. We must treat this illness of the mind if he is to leave you alone. I have a good friend who runs a hospital near York. I respect him very much as an alienist and it’s a very decent hospital. If you could stay there for a little while, they might be able to make the hallucinations stop.”

She seemed to stiffen, and then a look of pure betrayal flitting across her face which could not be mistaken for anything else, she sat up and schooled her face, looking down. Pippa's nostrils flared and relaxed a few times and her lips were holding back a bigger tremble.

Her silence spoke louder than any arguments they'd shared during the months since her arrival. Finally, she spoke softly, "If you will excuse me." Pippa then stood, no longer able to hear over the loudest tinnitus she'd ever heard, her feet shuffling beneath her echoed faintly underneath the sound of the multi toned whistling. She had a case of tunnel vision, the darkness surrounded her. She did not go far, she wasn't running away.

She went to her room and simply pulled the chair over to the open window, letting the air hit her flushed cheeks. She closed her eyes and started to try and breathe as panic closed her throat and she began to tremble. She lifted her face to the beams of sunlight and that was when the world started to fade into black. If Tris did not follow, he would hear the chair and then find her on the floor. Regardless of his timing, she would faint.

Maggie was just as disgusted by vomit as the doctor. She was also a great deal poorer with a third mouth to feed on the way. And so she set to work fast.

As she came up with a bucket of hot water and soap, she caught a glimpse of the doctor helping the maid down. What was going on here? What kind of employer… hang on, was the maid actually pregnant?!

Oh the low life, the dirty bastard, sleeping with the maid...

But she was also rather pleased to be the first in the yard to know. Maggie had promised Dr. Wells that she was discrete. Unfortunately, there were very few pleasures in Maggie’s life beside gossip. By tonight, everyone in the yard would know; tomorrow the Cragg and other yards and ghauts.

As she mopped and scrubbed, she distracted herself from the disgusting mess by considering the disgusting mess downstairs. How outrageous. Rose no longer seemed particularly happy in her marriage, but at least her little sister was out of service. Maggie thanked God for that. Bachelors were the worst, too. She wondered if the poor girl downstairs had been pressured into it. Perhaps she loved him, or thought she did. To his credit, if any credit was to be had after his messing around, Dr. Wells hadn’t yet thrown the girl out. He seemed rather concerned. Was he actually in love with her?

That line of thought opened a new well of excitement to forget her own sufferings. They were unlikely lovers. He was going to marry her, a poor girl, and raise her to the respectable status of a doctor’s wife, living a life of comfort she had never known! Rules of class and propriety had been thrown out of the window, so strong was their love! Where was the doctor from? Some warm and beautiful African shore, surely, nothing like cold, damp Whitby with frozen water that bit and bruised your legs as you sought for bait and chilly drafts that found coming every crack in the wall. He would take her home to that warm place, where he was actually a prince and they’d live in great wealth and see many foreign lands where it was always hot and food was bountiful, but nobody drank and the work was light. Well, they’d have servants to do the work anyway. And so they would never be tired or angry and they would only grow in their love.

She still delighted in the fantasy as she came down the stairs with a bucket with dirty water and dirty cloths. Just then, the maid came running up, physically upset.

Or maybe he was just another employer abusing his power to fuck the maid…

She was a few steps down the second flight of stairs when she heard some scraping followed by a thud. That sounded like a fall. Maggie hesitated, then continued on her way down. She didn’t want to get involved in this mess, thank you.

She lingered on the lower steps, however, so that she’d be able to hear what would happen next.

Tristan hadn't expected her to take the suggestion well, which was why he had emphasized that he personally trusted the director and the hospital. Still, the look Pippa gave him was worse than he had expected. Was she actually angry with him? Surely she had to understand her circumstances. But no, she was unwell in body and in mind. He should expect anything and nothing from her while she was in this state.

He did not speak, allowing her some time to process the suggestion and feelings it provoked. Most patients did not like to acknowledge their illness and there was so much stigma and popular myths surrounding asylums that very few went there voluntarily if they could help it. Pippa would need some time.

And so, when she got up and asked to be excused, he did not protest. "Of course," he said as gently as he could. He worried about her walking up the stairs alone, and followed her out to watch her go, but when he heard the door close, he figured she would be alright for now, and he breathed out a long, exhausted sigh. He was certain all the shit of these last few months had aged him by twenty years. He felt it now. He didn't know how much longer he could go on before he too broke.

Then he heard the chair scrape and a thud and he rushed up the stairs, cursing under his breath. He knelt by her side and took her wrist to feel for a pulse. "Pippa?"

She did not come to, though her pulse was racing, her breath was steady. She had grown warmer by touch. He would have time enough for her to be moved to the bed and examined some, perhaps, by the time there came to be a rap on the door.

A missive was left by a youth.

To whom it may concern,

My name is Miss Tobi Zimmerman and I was given word that my dearest friend has been in your household for a time and I wished to confirm or deny this with you. Rather than waste both of our time coming to you now when there are many people we have talked to already that have led to dead ends.

If she is there and I can see her, it would do my heart well to know she is alive. Her name is Miss Philippa Danes, she is dark haired and dark eyed and about the sweetest. She has been missing for a time and we have just received word of something that might bring her mind ease.

Sincerely,
Ms Tobi Zimmerman

 
There was an address not far from his own even, a nearby inn, room number two.

Having moved her to the bed an assured himself that Pippa was not in immediate danger, Tristan finally left the room and went downstairs. He had just sunk down into an armchair, when there was a rap at the door downstairs. He ensconced himself further in his chair. If someone was in need of a doctor, they'd have to find another one today, even if he needed the money. He couldn't leave Pippa unsupervised.

The poor child would definitely have to go to a hospital.

The doorbell this time. Tristan ignored it and put his head in his hands. Was it too early for a drink?

Again, the doorbell rang. "God, at least kill me fast," he muttered under his breath, but he got up and went to answer the door.

He returned to the drawing room with the missive in hand, dropped down into his chair once again and opened it.

Well... that was some timing. Quite a bit too late to ease Pippa's mind was Ms. Zimmerman. If this thing was even serious. Tristan figured that the man Pippa had claimed was trying to kill her had been but a figment of her mind all along. It was a common form of insanity. But he was still suspicious. Even if there was not a murderer behind the letter, the author might still seek some kind of personal gain. Pippa's family had been rich after all.

Had the unfortunate maid been in a healthy state of mind, Tristan would have simply given the letter to her and asked her if she knew this Ms Zimmerman, but he would not risk introducing anything that might excite her fragile mind now. He himself would go out to find out what Ms. Zimmerman was about, as soon as his sister was home.

Penny returned with a basket full of stuff from the market and stressed from the first interview she'd had. She had kindly declined the position. Five children including a set of mischief making twins she imagined would chew her up and spit her out was not her idea of fun times. She stopped to get household food from the list made in Pippa's neat handwriting, the basket almost full with things for soup as well because she was worried about Pippa.

Included with that was a recipe from a local innkeep that heard her plight when she asked what kind of broth was best to feed a sick woman, and the innkeep had also been kind enough to explain the best way to prepare it with a demonstration in the kitchen and a small bowl to taste.

After getting things unloaded and in their place, she headed upstairs to the attic to check on Pippa first, Tris could wait. Tris would be able to hear her footsteps and could intercept if he needed, but her thoughts were not on that as much as making sure Pippa was ok. Besides, she was getting irritated with her brother.

Tristan was in his study, writing a letter, when he heard the door and heard his sister putting things away in the larder. By the time Penelope came up the stairs, Tristan was om the landing, waiting for her. "Penelope. Pippa is asleep," he said quietly. "Come into the drawing room for a moment, I have something important to discuss."

Provided, she followed, he held the door for her and then closed it behind them. He did not sit down but started off right away: "I'm sorry we quarreled. We shall talk about it later, but for now, we must attend to more urgent matters and be united. Pippa is sicker than I thought, not just in body, but mind. She needs to go to a hospital, but I will not be able to arrange it until tomorrow. I have an urgent errand to run, and I shan't be long. If I give you instructions, do you feel confident to look after her? Hopefully she will not wake up before I'm back."

She followed and then listened, concern etched across her features. When he brought up the treatment plan he had in mind after his apology, a dark cloud settled within her gaze. His sibling had an angry expression settled up on her face soon after and she seemed to stand up straighter.

"If you mean to let them harm her physically in the name of treating her mind, I will stop this and refuse to let you. Promise me they won't scramble her brain or treat her barbarically...." She said this with such conviction that it was easy to tell that she had formed a bond with the girl. "We are all she has right now and you ask me to betray her trust by trusting you."