Free Ghost Gum Valley by Johanna Nicholls

took in the ghastly scene.
    Isabel was shocked by the sight of Martha’s deterioration. On the bedside table was a glass jar which Isabel recognised with a shiver of dread held a supply of leeches. Martha was scarcely thirty years old yet her whole frame seemed to have shrunk to the dimensions of a child’s body since Isabel last saw her. Was it only two weeks ago?
    Dressed in a white nightgown so plain it looked like a shroud, Martha gave Isabel a smile free of any trace of fear. Her pale oval face seemed pinched from within, the sweating flesh stretched taut across the cheekbones. Her gentle grey eyes shone with unnatural brightness from the dark hollows of the eye sockets.
    One thin arm stretched across the counterpane as if in a feeble attempt to reach Isabel’s hand to comfort her. The other arm, with its sleeve rolled up to her bony shoulder, hung over the bleeding bowl held by the physician.
    Isabel tried to prevent her false smile from fading, sickened by the smell and sight of the fluid that dripped continuously from Martha’s open vein as if eager to satisfy the doctor’s quota of bright red blood. Already it filled half the bowl. Isabel hated herself for her involuntary recall of the lurid images in Vampyre, the novella written by Lord Byron’s young physician John Polidori. The story’s mysterious vampire, Lord Ruthven, had so haunted her imagination that Isabel felt he was right here in the room to claim Martha.
    Isabel wanted to scream out the words, ‘Stop, you butcher! Look how fragile she is. Do you want every last drop before you’re satisfied?’
    She dug her fingers into her arms in the hope self-inflicted pain would prevent her from fainting. God knows if I passed out, the old leech would start draining my blood too.
    Just at the point she was ready to charge at him the physician ended the ordeal and bandaged Martha’s arm.
    Once his task was completed he cast a severe look at Isabel. ‘You’ve strict instructions not to tire my patient. You may stay two minutes, no more.’ He turned to Martha. ‘I shall return tomorrow to check your progress. Continue with the laudanum doses I prescribed. Is your husband at home? The Master?’
    When Martha looked uncertain, Isabel jumped to her feet. ‘They are both expected to return very soon.’
    â€˜Meanwhile I shall deliver my instructions to the housekeeper. They are to be followed to the letter.’
    The moment the door closed behind him Martha patted the counterpane and Isabel flew to her side to stroke the hair back from her forehead and kiss her cheek.
    â€˜Forgive me, Martha. I wanted to come sooner but Cousin Silas gave instructions you were not to be disturbed.’
    â€˜Dear man. He’s overly protective. Doesn’t he realise that you bring a breath of spring into my sickroom every time you visit me?’
    Isabel was shocked to see that the claw-like hand that gripped hers wore a wedding ring that was now two sizes too large for her. Isabel felt her throat constrict at this visible proof that Martha was wasting away within her own body.
    â€˜Tell me, are the tulips in bloom yet?’
    Isabel was startled to realise her cousin had been confined so long in this sick room that she had lost all sense of the changing seasons.
    Isabel carefully chose her words to describe imaginary flowers as if they were now in bloom. ‘We have such a wild profusion of colours that Netherlands are jealous we’ll steal their title as the tulip capital of Europe!’
    Martha gave a little laugh, eager to catch her mood. ‘How young and vibrant you look, sweetheart. Tell me, what have you been reading? Love stories? Novels? Sir Walter Scott or that clever Miss Austen’s work?’
    â€˜I’ll read Sense and Sensibility to you tomorrow when you’ve had a good night’s sleep.’
    â€˜Lovely. But first I want to know everything about your world.’
    My world?