SECRET OF THE WOLF By Susan Krinard

Ingram glanced at Bolkonsky in outraged amazement. “This is the doctor you told me was to be trusted? She—” He broke off, staring toward the door to the bedchamber. May stood on the threshold, utterly still. Her face had lost all color.

“May,” her father said hoarsely. He opened his arms. “May, my darling—”

With a choking gasp, May bent backward at the waist, her spine forming a sharp curve. Johanna barely made it to her in time to catch her before she fell. The girl convulsed, her teeth clicking together.

Johanna yanked a curtain cord from the window, eased May to the ground, and pushed the cord into her mouth to prevent her from biting her tongue.

Bolkonsky dropped to his knees beside her and helped hold May down. In a few moments it was over. May’s face was bathed in sweat; her body was limp. She kept her eyes tightly closed.

“Gott in Himmel,” Johanna whispered. One bout of hysteria, and all the progress of the past year was lost. She had been so sure that May was over the fits for good.

Arrogance on her own part. Sheer arrogance, hubris, stupidity…

May’s father came toward them and crouched as if to take May in his arms. Bolkonsky forestalled him and carried May into the bedchamber himself. Johanna sat beside May, shielding her from any further male intrusion.

“Move away at once. Let me be alone with her,” Johanna said, adjusting the pillows under May’s head. “She has not had such a fit in over a year; you will have to explain to Mr. Ingram the severity of her relapse. We expected too much of her, too soon.”

“I must concur with your analysis,” Bolkonsky said.

Johanna didn’t allow him to see her surprise at his sudden cooperation. “Then make Mr. Ingram understand that he cannot take May with him until she has fully adjusted to the prospect, however much time that may require. Unless he wishes her to become even more ill.” She twisted to meet Bolkonsky’s gaze. “Surely you see that she fears her father. Do you still believe she belongs with him?”

The Russian doctor stroked his chin. “This is a setback, Johanna, but we can still find a satisfactory conclusion. I will see what I can do.”

“And ask him to leave these rooms so that I can take May back to the buggy. I will not have her suffer again today.”

Bolkonsky answered with a bow and retreated. The door remained opened a crack behind him.

“What the hell is going on?” Ingram demanded. “What’s happened to my daughter? I thought you said this woman cured her.”

“I have no cause to doubt—” Bolkonsky began.

“She’s useless, a charlatan. I won’t have May in her care one minute longer—”

The door closed, shutting off his words. May remained still and mute.

“All will be well,” Johanna murmured, stroking damp hair away from the girl’s face. “We’ll be home very soon.”

May opened her eyes. “Where am I?”

“Don’t worry about that now. Just rest.”

“I’m not tired.” She reached for Johanna’s hand. “Are we going now?”

Given what May had just experienced, that was a regular speech. She hardly seemed aware of what had set off her fit, or why she’d been afraid. Johanna cast up a wordless prayer of gratitude.

“Soon,” Johanna assured her. Bolkonsky entered the room, hovering in the doorway. Johanna joined him out of May’s hearing.

“He’s gone,” Bolkonsky said. “I’ll keep you informed as to his decision regarding his daughter.”

“Sehr gut. I think it best if we postpone any more meetings for at least a week. Mr. Ingram should return to San Francisco for the time being.”

Bolkonsky didn’t reply. His cool stare swept over May. “She seems recovered enough. I will send you a message at the Haven.”

Nodding her agreement, Johanna helped May up from the bed and walked her slowly back to the stable. May showed no further reaction to what had happened, nor made any reference to Bolkonsky or her father. It was as if they had already ceased to exist for her.

And they would soon enough. The time for mere planning was past.

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