Chapter 3
316 Words
Lord Douglas rushed forward to kneel beside his wife"s bed, clasping her hand only to feel the coldness of it. Looking at her, he watched as her eyes fluttered open, framed by her face, the colour drained out of it.
“Clara, my love,” he muttered, tears forming in his eyes.
“You have another son,” she responded, her voice weak.
“Don’t leave me, I beg of you.”
“Promise me you’ll look after him, Douglas,” she whispered.
He tried to answer, but before he could get the words out, her eyes closed a final time, and she passed into the Afterlife. A low growl escaped from his lips, building into a cry of anguish that shook the very walls. Outside, as if in answer to his call, thunder echoed across the land. Lady Clara Fitzwilliam, Baroness of Bodden, was dead.
Lord Douglas remained where he was, clutching his dead wife’s hand in an iron grip. He stared at her, remembering her tenderness and good nature. Here lay a woman that had softened his soul, and brought light to the darkness, but now she was gone.
“My lord,” interrupted one of the women, “you have a son. What shall we do with him?”
Lord Douglas tore his gaze away from the body of his wife to glare at the woman. Releasing Clara"s hand, he moved towards the servant, staring down at the swaddled newborn. The tiny infant stared back, serving only to remind him of what he had just lost.
“You,” he declared, “are Lord Richard Fitzwilliam, and are responsible for killing your own mother, the only person I ever loved. I shall never let you forget this!”
“He’s but a wee babe,” the woman defended.
“He has cursed this house!” yelled Lord Douglas. “Take him away!”
- Writer
