Dancing with Clara by Mary Balogh

Author:Mary Balogh [Balogh, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Class Ebook Editions, Ltd.
Published: 2017-06-05T18:30:00+00:00

“And so that is how it is,” Clara said. “Can you believe it, Harriet? I could have been walking all these years back in England instead of sitting forever in chairs and having to be wheeled or carried from place to place. I could walk for the rest of my life.” She and her companion were in her private sitting room.

“But it is wonderful news.” Harriet had her hands clasped to her bosom. “Clara? It is glorious.”

“But I don’t believe it,” Clara said. “I can’t. When I fell out of bed this morning—” Fortunately a maid had been in her dressing room, bringing a jug of steaming water, and had heard the thump and come running. Clara, though hurt and frightened, had pretended to be waking up from sleep. “I did not fall out. I tried to stand. My legs were quite, quite useless.”

“But of course they were,” Harriet said. “Gracious, you might have hurt yourself badly. You cannot expect just to get up and walk because you have been told that it is possible for you to do so, Clara. You have not walked for years.”

“For twenty,” Clara said.

Harriet tutted. “And you thought to step out of bed this morning and walk down to breakfast,” she said. “How foolish.”

“It was rather, was it not?” Clara felt sheepish. “Though I do not think I was quite so unrealistic, Harriet. I would have been happy just to stand there for a few moments.”

“Did you not just say that Mr. Sullivan told you it would be a slow, frustrating process?” Harriet asked.

“Yes,” Clara said, sighing. “I have always been renowned for my patience, Harriet. People tell me how wonderfully patient I am in adversity. I am not sure I have enough for this. I want to walk now. I want to run yesterday. I want to dance the day before. I just don’t think I can do it. How can I begin to hope now when I have developed this legendary patience, and perhaps have my hopes dashed? Better not to have hoped at all.”

“But you are doing just that,” Harriet said. “And I know you well enough, Clara, to feel sure that you will be quite unable just to close your eyes to this chance.”

Clara sighed again. Of course Harriet was right. She had lain in bed the night before trying to move her toes. She could feel them. She could even feel them moving, though she doubted that their movement would be perceptible to the eye. They were so very weak, and so far from her brain that the message she was trying desperately to send seemed not to be reaching them. Frustration? Oh, yes, she had wept with it just the night before. If her toes would not obey her will, how was she to command her whole legs?

“How is it to be done, Harriet?” she asked. “To know that it can be done is one thing. To know how it can be done is another. If I cannot

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