6. Frustration

Hey Everyone

So I apologize for not updating in weeks. RL really caught up with me since I got back to Uni. So, with having to balance my RL with my writing I'm going to try to get two posts out a week; more if I can squeeze in extra posts. 

Once again, thank you to everyone who reads Mars Rising :)

xx

________

Bridgeport, Present Day

“What the hell?” Kat threw her hands up in frustration before flinging her textbook across the desk. For the past hour all that had sunk in was something about a globalisation paradox that today’s nations were struggling with.

“Whatever.” She had had enough of globalisation for one night.

She let out a long, exasperated sigh. Three months of vacation had rotted her brain making studying a chore she would have to get back into. She glanced at the alarm clock on her desk. 2 am. She could have been asleep two hours ago but her inability to retain the information kept nagging at her. She took a sip of her coffee – it was cold. No surprise there as she had made it two hours ago.

Resigning herself to the reality that she wasn’t going to get anymore work done, Kat slipped into bed to get what little sleep she could before waking up for her 7:45 lecture. Arianne’s diary stared back at her from across the sofa. She hadn’t bothered to read it since that first time, getting caught up in the debacle that was registration and readjusting to early mornings. Kat, curious once again, tip-toed over to the couch; she didn’t want to disturb Jazzy's sleep. 

She picked it up and flipped the pages – she wasn’t really interested about Arianne’s ramblings about her daily routine – she seemed too perky and excitable for Kat’s liking.

She stopped when the words ‘Mortensen brothers’ popped out in one of the entries.

2 February, 1805

Dear Diary,

It has been a week since the Mortensen brothers arrived at our front door. Sissy and I have not seen them since. Cook has told us that the only time they venture out of their quarters is when it is time to accompany Father to his rooms. I must say that I am deeply disappointed. I heard that Mars is well travelled and I would have liked to discuss his adventures. Perhaps tonight will be the night. But first I must be over with my lessons. I hear Madam Bell’s carriage drawing closer and she will not tolerate any tardiness.

________

Riverview, 1805

Arianne’s Diary

“Ileana, be a love and take this to our guests’ quarters.” Hettie laid down a platter of her famous cinnamon buns. Her young aide flinched at having to visit the guest quarters again. She had been making excuses over the past week, forcing Hettie to make the deliveries herself. There was no telling how much longer she could go on like this; her arsenal of excuses was running out. 

“There’s no need. We’re leaving right away. A young woman has fallen ill over the night and I need to tend to her immediately.”

Ileana sighed in relief; the doctor had saved her, just in time, from another episode of being ogled.

“Prepare a spread, Hettie. We will be expecting guests for dinner.” Charles tipped his hat and left the two women to decide on a menu. 

 Madam Bell paced the great room, her ears pricked as she listened intently for any mistakes in Arianne’s playing. She nodded when Arianne played beautifully but would not hesitate to rap her on the knuckles with the cane if she missed a note. She was a strict old woman and the girls did not fancy her too much. However, Charles had insisted that she was the best governess and so they had to put up with her sharp tongue and militant methods of teaching.

 

“Amelia, continue from where Arianne has stopped.” She gave the cue for the sisters to exchange places – it was now Arianne’s turn to practice her painting.

“Yes mum.” Amelia rushed to take her place at the piano; any unnecessary delay or a start at the incorrect verse would prompt a sound verbal lashing from Victoria Bell. 

 “Gracefully.” The old woman barked. She always took the opportunity to remind them that young ladies from well-to-do homes, like theirs, never rushed anything – poise and decorum must always be at the forefront of any action.

 

 For the rest of the day, until tea time when Madam Bell would finally retreat to her own home, the girls were to alternate between the two arts.

“Tomorrow we shall continue with your readings and penmanship.”

Arianne passed her sister an exasperated look: their holiday was definitely over. 

_____

 “Please, Doctor, do come in.” The woman stood aside to let Charles and the Mortensens in.

“I don’t know what is wrong with her. She’s been screaming and sweating the entire night.” The woman had a rough lower-class accent; her nails were stained with dirt and hard labour. From the bottom of the landing they could hear the pained grunts and incoherent ramblings. Charles made his way to her daughter’s bedroom, ordering the mother to bring hot water and a towel.

 They found the young girl dripping in cold sweat, her cheeks stained scarlet from the fever. Dr. Livingston lifted her sleeves to find a spotted rash creeping its way up her arms. He felt her abdomen; it was hard and bloated. “I suspect organ inflammation. The fever is unusually high and I have never seen a more terrible rash.”

He heard her mother gasp in horror, fearing that the doctor would not be able to cure her only child. Mars approached the bed, examining her closely. The girl spluttered, spittle running down her chin as incoherent ramblings escaped from her mouth. Nikolai watched from a distance, taking mental notes.

“I believe she has become delirious.” Mars tilted his head in fascination, unfazed by the girl’s behaviour. He moved closer, placing his cool hands over her forehead and whispered something into her ear. The others watched as she suddenly calmed down and her breathing, though still shallow, became more regular.

“Well, Charles, what do you think it is?” Mars bared his pearly whites, satisfied that he had impressed his new mentor.

“It is a fever, I can assure you. I will have to speak to the mother to determine a cause and the exact ailment.”

In the hall, Charles took the mother aside and instructed her on how to administer the medication.

“Do not even think about it.” Nikolai warned his brother, knowing all too well that he would be back to put the girl out of her misery.

“I do not know of what you speak, brother.” Mars batted his eyelids and cast a gaze over to Charles and the mother, in time to catch the end of the conversation.

“Give me a call in the morning if her condition does not take a turn for the better.”

The woman thanked them and shut her door. The brothers heard her slump down on the other side and break into silent sobs.

“I am afraid she will not see it through the night.” Mars tried to veil his excitement at having his first victim with remorse. Charles bought it as he clicked his tongue sympathetically and nodded in agreement.

Livingston Manor

 Father and our guests have been discussing their latest patient for quite some time now. It seems a rather peculiar case. I fear I shall have to wait until evening to talk to Mars. In the meantime I shall see to my dress and hair for this evening. Lord and Lady Sharpe will be visiting; their son Thomas, and my childhood friend, has returned from his service and Father sees it fit that he should be welcomed back with one of Cook’s glorious feasts.