Heart's Ransom
Page 23
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“Well?” Kitty asked. She sat on the bench before the stern windows while Rafe spent a great deal of time in silence, studying her, peering into her eyes. He asked her several times if she had been able to see any hint of light, and she had heard a soft clinking of glass, smelled the pungent warmth of oil and felt dim, sudden heat as he had drawn a lamp near her face. There had been nothing, however, and she found herself disappointed and irritable.
“Well, I do not think it is your imagination,” Rafe said.
Again, Kitty felt a little flutter of excitement. “So I have seen things, then? My eyes still work, at least somewhat?”
“I did not say that,” Rafe said, and even his gentle tone struck her like a slap, crumpling her enthusiasm. “I think it is like I said earlier, perhaps what you have experienced is simply random activity in portions of your eye that have not completely withered yet―like a muscle spasm, if you will. I cannot see anything physically wrong with your eyes. There is no malformation or scars from injury apparent, but there would probably not be, if the fever you described was indeed the cause of your blindness. Your pupils do not react to light stimuli as is ordinary―they do not contract when directly exposed. That would indicate some sensory deficit to me.”
She felt the pad of his thumb drape lightly against her upper eyelid, easing it open, and felt the soft press of his breath as he leaned closer, peering at her eye.
“As much as I would enjoy the chance to prove English doctors wrong, I do not think there is much I can tell you that is different than what they have already said,” he said. “The eye is an extremely delicate instrument, and it does not take much trauma to damage it irreparably. Your fever could well have been enough to cause nerve atrophy―”
“Fine, then,” Kitty said, swatting his hand away. It was ridiculous, finding herself on the verge of tears again, and all of the matter of her blindness―something she had accepted a long time ago, and a condition she had been told repeatedly was irreversible. She pressed her lips together in a thin, stubborn line and turned her face away from him. “I do not feel like being prodded anymore.”
He was quiet for a long moment, on his knees against the floor before her. “Kitty, I am sorry,” he said at length, draping his hand against hers.
She pulled her hand away, rattling the chains between them. “Nothing for it,” she said, and damned her voice for cracking uncontrollably. She did not want to weep in front of Rafe; not over this, especially. I was a fool to think he would find anything different than anyone else who has examined me, or say anything otherwise.
“I know what it must be like…” Rafe began, and she cut him short with a sharp bark of mirthless laughter.
“No, you do not,” she said. “You do not know what it is like at all, to hear the whispers and murmurs when I pass through a room―people remarking on what a shame it is, and I am such a pretty girl, too.” Her eyes flooded and she tried to wipe at them with her fingertips, to prevent the tears from falling. “As if I am deaf as well as blind, and my looks are ruined simply because I am not privy to see them. People treat me as if I am an invalid or a child. My own father will not let me travel far beyond my own bloody front yard for fear I will stumble headlong into something, or become lost, or…or God only knows.” She laughed again unhappily. “You do not know what it is like, Rafe, so kindly spare me any sympathy.”
Her bottom lip trembled, despite her best efforts to steel her jaw. Her breath hitched once, twice, and then a tear escaped, trailing slowly down her cheek. Just as she reached for it, meaning to rub it fervently away, Rafe’s fingers caught it first.
“I am sorry, Kitty,” he said, and she had no defense against his gentle tone, his earnest words. She gasped softly, her tears spilling unabated, and she did not resist as he drew her against his shoulder, holding her. “I am sorry,” he whispered to her, over and over, stroking her hair as she clutched his sleeve and wept.