Heart of Gold

Then he collapsed.

WHEN AUBREY WOKE, THE WORLD WAS GREY. HE MUSED on that for some time before realising that he was gazing up at a ceiling. He could see the cornices, where the ceiling met the wall. They were moulded in a geometric pattern. Classical?

He considered this as time passed. It was interesting, in a vague and comforting way.

Some time later, at the edge of his vision, he could see an electric light. It was an elaborate mechanism, all brass rods and glass shades shaped like upsidedown Marmeluke hats. He supposed it was in the centre of the ceiling, but he couldn't be certain without moving his head. For some reason, he was reluctant to do that.

Time drifted. He remembered that he'd seen a similar electric light in the apartment he'd let from Madame Calvert. After a dreamy while, he decided that this was probably the same one and that meant he was in his own room. By and by, he concluded that the sheets and blankets meant he was in a bed. His bed, in all likelihood.

The depressing greyness worried him, though. He assumed he could see more if he moved his head, but the prospect of seeing more of such a gloomy world was not an inviting one. Sometimes a small disheartening vista was preferable to a large disheartening vista. Dimly, he thought that may be a clever notion, but he wasn't cheered by it at all.

'Aubrey?'

It took him a moment, but he eventually recognised George's voice. It was warming to hear it. He thought it would be good to hear it again, so he waited.

After a time, George's face swam into view. He was haggard. 'Aubrey? Are you there?'

For a moment, the question held Aubrey frozen. He was poised, balanced between two worlds, like an underwater swimmer looking up at the sunlit world beyond the surface.

Then, with a rush he rose and embraced the world.

He lifted his head. 'George.' His voice felt thick and unused. 'How long have I been like this?'

George stared for a moment. Then he turned away and coughed. When he came back, he was wiping his nose with a large red handkerchief. 'Almost three days, old man. You've given us quite a scare. Quite a scare.'

'Three days?' Aubrey let his head fall back to the pillow. He tried to remember what he'd experienced after he'd collapsed in the Chapel of the Heart, but nothing came to him.

'The doctors said it was a coma, and wanted to move you to a hospital. I wouldn't let them, and Madame Calvert helped us.'

Aubrey felt as if George was throwing darts at him, so much information was coming so quickly. 'Three days? Madame Calvert? Us?'

The grey world disappeared. Light flooded into the room and Aubrey held up a hand, wincing. He squinted at the window and saw a silhouetted figure drawing back the drapes. 'Caroline?'

'She's kept vigil here, old man. We both have.'

Caroline came and sat on the bed. She wore a simple white blouse and a black skirt. Her hair fell to her neck. She smiled, and Aubrey's world was brighter. Living seemed like a desirable outcome. 'How do you feel?'

'I feel wonderful.' Weak and wrung-out, and glad to be feeling anything at all.

She raised an eyebrow.

He rallied. 'Relatively wonderful, I mean. Considering the alternative. I could be a wild boar by now. Or something.'

'Or dead,' George pointed out.

Aubrey winced. 'Indeed.' He glanced down and saw he was wearing pyjamas. He was glad they were his best pair. 'I really feel quite well. What time is it?'

George consulted his pocket watch. 'Just after seven. In the morning.'

Aubrey was glad for George's addendum. It saved him having to ask. 'I don't suppose there's a chance of some breakfast?'

George's face split in a wide grin. 'I'm sure Madame Calvert will whip up a lovely tray for you.'

George fairly bounded for the door and galloped down the stairs.

Caroline sat and studied him for some time while he fidgeted. 'He was very worried about you,' she said, finally.

Aubrey ran his hands along the coverlet. It really was fine work. He wondered if Madame Calvert could purchase one for him to take back to Albion. 'He does get like that. Good man.'

'Yes. You're lucky to have him.'

Caroline looked towards the window. The light surrounded her with a glow that Aubrey thought was beautiful, but unnecessary, like a gold frame on a masterpiece.

He touched his chest as he felt pain again, but instantly he realised this was different. It was desire's touch to the heart, a pain both piercing and delicate. Caroline was so extravagantly beautiful, so formidable in intellect and so dismissive of all of it. She humbled him. How could he ever think that he could attract someone so exquisite?

'Lucky?' he said. 'I should say so. Without George, I would have been in very serious trouble any number of times.'

She looked thoughtful. 'You seem to inspire loyalty.'

'I do?' Aubrey was taken aback, but flattered as well. His spirits rose. 'Well, my father, Sir Darius, his troops were tremendously loyal to him, you know. And in politics, his supporters are steadfast, despite his setbacks, of which he's had a few.' He paused. 'You know, I don't do that with anyone but you.'

'What?'

'Babble.'

'You'd best learn not to, then.' She stood. 'Your parents will be here in a few days.'

Aubrey was still wondering at the first half of her statement.' Parents?'

'Yes. You know, Lady Rose and Sir Darius.'

He did his best to banter in Aubrey fashion. 'Oh, those parents. Sorry, you caught me on the hop. I was going through my list of parents one by one. I would have got to those two eventually.' He frowned. 'They haven't come to see me?'

Caroline studied him for a moment. 'You told us not to let them know about what happened to you.'

'I did?'

'Just after we brought you back here. You don't remember?'

'I'm afraid not.' Aubrey didn't remember, but he could believe it. Was it a streak of stubbbornness or a determination to be independent that made him do things like that?

'George and I argued about it, back and forth, changing our minds and arguing again.'

'While I lay here?'

'We whispered.'

'Ah.'

They shared a smile. 'I'm glad to see you're well again,' she said.

Aubrey sought for something to say that wasn't trite. Before he could, George bustled in. He carried an invalid tray laden with enough mouth-watering delicacies to feed an army of valetudinarians. 'Breakfast!'

They shared the platters of pastries, breads and fruits that Madame Calvert had prepared. Aubrey learned that Inspector Paul had visited several times to check on his state of health. He'd reported that the river had begun flowing again, and that all the landmarks had regained their solidity. The earth tremors had ceased, as well.

'Gallia is itself once more?' Aubrey asked. He sipped a cup of good coffee. It tasted like heaven.

'More or less,' George answered. 'Political shenanigans all over the place, according to the papers.'