Page 20 of Vision of Love
Anya didn’t blame her father. She didn’t want to be in the hospital either. She had to start her search. In order to do that, she had to talk to her boss. Lady Vivian might remember Anastasia, and after she talked to her, she would know where to go next.
“I hear someone is leaving us today.” Nurse Sara walked into the room. She had a cheery smile on her face that irritated Anya. The nurse had been nice and helpful, so Anya didn’t understand why she found Sara irritating. She was surly, and it had nothing to do with the nurse. “I have your discharge papers.” Sara held out a stack of papers. “After you sign them, you’re free to go. Well, you will need to ride in a wheelchair downstairs. Hospital policy, sorry.”
Anya wrinkled her nose. “Fine. Give me the papers.” She took the stack from Sara and flipped to the signature page, picked up a pen, then scribbled her name across the line. “There.”
“I’ll have someone come in with the wheelchair soon.” Sara grabbed the papers. “Do you have any questions before I leave?”
“No,” Anya shook her head. She didn’t want to delay that wheelchair’s arrival. Without it, she couldn’t escape, and she desperately needed to depart the bloody hospital.
“All right,” she said. “Then relax, and you’ll be out of here before you know it.”
Anya sank into the nearby chair. She reminded herself that this was an obstacle she could surpass. Nothing would stand in her way in search of the truth. It was a minor delay, nothing more.
“I know you’re frustrated,” her mother said. “It could be worse.”
“Could it?” She frowned. “I suppose so. I could be dead.”
“What a morbid thing to say,” her mother chastised her. “Why would you even suggest…” Her hand shook, and she brought it up to her chest. “Do you have any idea how scared we were? You were so hurt…”
“I’m fine,” Anya said dryly. She should have known better than to be that blunt with her mother. “Please accept my apologies. I didn’t mean to upset you.” That was the truth. She hadn’t taken her mother’s feelings into account at all. When Anya thought about her own death, she pictured a gun going off clearly in her mind. She had died and knew what it was like to take her last breath. That wasn’t something she was likely to ever forget.
“This has been difficult for you,” her mother said gently. “You have a good heart. In time, your stress will ease, and this will be a distant memory.”
Would it though? Somehow, she doubted she’d ever forget this experience. “It was an accident.” Her voice remained monotone as she spoke. Anya was going through the motions.
“I’m here to take Anya Montgomery downstairs?” A woman came in with a wheelchair. She had on a pink sweater and navy-blue trousers. She was close to her mother’s age. Her auburn hair was pulled back behind her head in a simple braid. “I am Catherine, Marchioness of Seabrook.” She winked. “I usually do not announce that tidbit, but I thought you should know. It’s something you might contemplate over later. I’m a nurse, but these days I volunteer here at the hospital.”
That was interesting… Why had she worked at all if she was a marchioness? The volunteering part made sense. Most high society ladies did some sort of charity work, but why did she feel the need to disclose her title to her? Why would Anya ever need to know that?
“That would be me,” Anya said as she raised her hand. “I’m ready to go. Are you really a marchioness?” Perhaps she was lying? Though she didn’t understand why.
“I am, but let’s forego the formalities, shall we? I’d much prefer you use my given name, Catherine. I’ve never much cared to be called Lady Seabrook,” the woman told her, then patted the chair. “Hop in and we’ll get you home.”
She got up and then sat down in the wheelchair. The woman walked backward and turned the chair around to push it out of the room. “They’ve come a long way with these chairs. My husband had to use one when he was injured in the first world war. It was a big bulky thing.”
“A marquess fought in the war?” She didn’t think they did that. Her mother walked beside the wheelchair as they moved through the hall. She remained quiet. Anya had upset her more than she thought. She’d have to apologize again later.
“He was a spy. We met before the war started and fell in love through the years as it raged on. We married and returned home before the war ended.”
“Because he was injured?”
Anya didn’t know why she was curious. It helped her a little to hear about a story of love that survived. The woman had to be in her fifties. Anya wanted a love like that. One that would stand the test of time and survive well past the hard times.
“He was,” she said. “Asher could no longer be a spy, at least not effectively anymore. We also had to bring the twins, my son and daughter, home before it became impossible to do so. They were mere infants when we left.” They would probably be around the same age as Lady Vivian. She’d been born during the first world war too.
“Thank you for sharing your story with me.” It had given Anya something to consider.
“I thought it might help you,” she said softly. “I could feel your distress.”
That was odd too… How would she have any idea what Anya was feeling? Though she had been irritable. Perhaps she had given off some sort of signs she hadn’t been aware of.
“Here we are,” Catherine said. “It was nice meeting you.” She leaned down and whispered, “Don’t be afraid of your gifts. They’ll guide you where you need to go. Trust yourself.” After she finished speaking, she pushed the chair to the end of the pavement. “I believe that is your father. Enjoy your visit to Weston.”
Anya stood from the chair and turned to speak to her, but Catherine was already backing the chair away and returning to the hospital. Was Lady Vivian at Weston? How had Catherine known she needed to find her? She could be reading too much into it, but somehow she didn’t think so. Instead of going after her, she got into the car. She didn’t have any time to waste.
“She’s always been strange,” her mother said. “Don’t pay her any mind. She may be a marchioness, but she lacks class.”
Anya rolled her eyes. Her mother was probably jealous Catherine had a better title than her. She would ignore her comment, but she might try to find Catherine again one day. She couldn’t wait to get to her place. As soon as her parents left her flat, she fully intended to leave and drive to Weston; she’d have to finally purchase a car first. She had to see Lady Vivian.
