she felt as if a breeze gently touched her. Then she bounced a bit, moving down stairs.
Fear struck her.
No. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t carry her fantasies so far. She had never imagined trying to leave the asylum, at least not after those first few gut-wrenching weeks. She’d thought of nothing but escape then. Ways to flee. And had been shown just how foolish those notions were. She had been hurt so badly as to never wish to think about leaving on her own again. Even her fantasies of Dez coming to rescue her had been shoved away, placed so deeply within her that she dare not let them out.
Suddenly, bright light slammed against her, as if she had been taken outside in the blinding sunshine after the darkness of the asylum. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and whimpered. This was going too far. She heard the sweet song of a bird. Felt the breeze. Smelled the fresh air of a spring day. She began weeping copiously because she knew her greatest fear had final come and swallowed her whole.
After all this time, Anna finally had gone mad.
Chapter Ten
Dez’s heart ached with each step he carried Anna. They exited the darkness of Gollingham Asylum and he headed toward their waiting carriage. The wide-eyed footman placed the stairs down and opened the door and Dez entered the carriage, a sobbing Anna held close. He took a seat on the bench and kept her in his lap, reluctant to release her. She had yet to open her eyes. He didn’t know if she spent so much of her life terrified that she kept them closed to keep out the world or if the bright light hurt them. To think a creature of light such as Anna had been locked away for a dozen years in filth and darkness caused his heart to ache.
Shelton climbed in and took the opposite seat, his emotions worn on his sleeve.
“The poor girl,” he said as the carriage started up. “Do you think she knows what is happening?”
“I doubt it. She hasn’t looked around. It’s as if she’s deliberately gone deep inside herself.”
The viscount shook his head. “Can you blame her? She’s been in that hellhole for well over a decade.” He paused. “Do you think . . . that she truly has gone mad after so long a time away from society?”
He shrugged. “I cannot say. All I know is she has been liberated and I will do everything in my power to see her restored to good health, both physically and mentally.”
Dez had seen her limbs covered in old bruises, faded to the ugly shades of yellow and green. He wondered how often Anna had been beaten. If any bones had ever been broken. If her spirit had been broken.
He understood why she couldn’t speak. She had ruptured her vocal cords from screaming or shouting too long. It had happened more often than not on the battlefield. He himself had even experienced it. Officers, in particular, were prone to the ruptures as they shouted orders, trying to be heard over the sound of cannon fire exploding and the many guns discharging. The strain created the rupture. The first time he had witnessed it, an army doctor explained to him that, within the throat, the vocal cords were layers of mucus membranes. These membranes vibrate, which allows speech. If the layers are ruptured, vibrations cease, causing the loss of a person’s voice. It hadn’t been painful. He’d had no difficulties breathing. He’d merely been hoarse and his throat scratchy. After two days, he’d regained his voice.
This must have happened to Anna over and over again through the years. Who knew what damage had truly occurred? At least Dez had an idea how to help her. The doctors had had him keep his throat moist, which relaxed the vocal cords and hastened the healing process. He also was told to avoid extremes of hot and cold food or beverages. He had gargled with warm water dosed with salt and drank honey mixed in warm water.
The most important thing had been resting his voice. The same would be true for Anna. She would need to keep silent for as long as possible before starting to try to produce a stray word or two. Eventually, she could build up to phrases and then, finally, full sentences. From what he had seen during his short time at Gollingham Asylum, she had been trained to be silent for long