[sylvanSpider]

“I have no image of him on my person, though I do find it a bit of an extreme oddity that the granddaughter of a woman such as your grandmother would have never made the acquaintance of one who was attempting business,” Simon turned on his heel, rolling his eyes as he did so, making his way for the door. “Good day, Miss Ward! I believe you and I shall be in touch.”

=-=-=
The day had been a resounding success. With only a couple of hiccups in the road, Emily managed to pick up the perfect gift for her beloved, and they'd made it back in a relatively short time. But she couldn't get that woman's face out of her mind. It haunted her, and even now she could still feel that residual guilt. The feeling was not one that she knew well, but it was the strongest feeling she'd felt in a very long time. She felt pulled to her, like there was string embedded in her heart, the other end of the string attached to the beautiful finger of the woman. The name Elizabeth came to her, hazy, as if it was in a dream.

But now, she had to shake that face and that name out of her memory because she found the roles being reversed on her as they entered the women's home—she now being a caretaker, Rosamund the taken care of. “I'm...sorry, Miss Barker. I don't know what's come over me. I'm...sorry. Would you mind fetching a ehm...a bucket for m--” Rosamund began to ask, getting cut short by bile rising to the back of her throat.

Emily didn't have to hear the rest; she led Rosamund to a seat, taking the fire and fetching a bucket for her most dearest friend. “Rosamund, don't worry about me. I think it's high time I be the one to take care of you. Here, take this,” Emily said, her brow furrowing. Rosamund earlier in the day had looked as spry as she had in childhood. Now, she looked like death itself. Her face was wan and pale, in stark contrast to her flush and rosy cheeks Emily was accustomed to seeing her with.

The rest of the day came and went, and Emily sent for a doctor, the man coming in more time than Emily would have liked, “I would have sent for you sooner, but I thought it was just a flu...But the symptoms, doctor...they aren't getting better. Please tell me what is wrong with her...”

The doctor in question waved his hand in obvious dismissal of the lady who had called him, checking the blonde's pulse, shaking his head when he could find none. “She's gone. Now, I cannot fix her. She is the mortician's job now. Shall I send for him?”

Emily's eyes widened, tears forming at the corners immediately and running down her cheeks. “Sir, I'm sorry...but how can this be? She was fine earlier today, fine! What happened?”

“Poison is possible, as we've never seen a sickness move this swiftly. An autopsy will be necessary. I ehm, forgot to mention, Miss Barker, I will be sending law enforcement as well. I do not suspect you, but any information you can give them as to who she was with today will be necessary.” The doctor tipped his hat, leaving.

Emily dropped to her knees, staring blankly ahead needing to process exactly what had just happened.

Rosamund was dead.