Whiskey Lullabye

Ch. 1~ Unfortunate Events

Somewhere in Northern England, 2013

Holy crap, how long could this night possibly continue to be? All she wanted was to be in the warm bed that awaited her and sleep off the infernal thing known as jetlag. Millie continued to talk all throughout the hours of driving. How anyone could possibly talk for so long and not be out of things to say, she would never understand. David was in the passenger seat giving Allen the look that said "Shut your girlfriend up before I do." She rubbed her temples, wondering if her head would explode before or after they got to the cabin.

"-I mean, really, how stupid could you get? You'd think she'd know that you do not wear hot pink shoes with a navy green handbag. Don't you think so?"

Her head shot up, "Huh?"

"Have you been listening at all?"

"I kinda zoned after you started talking about how Shania's nose job looks like she got ran over by a Hummer."

"Well, it does. I'm not the only one thinking it." Millie turned her nose up at her friend's indifference to the frivolous social conformities she so eagerly enjoyed.

"Yeah, yeah, Millie, we get it," David's Welsh accent snipped. "You hate everyone else's sense of fashion. As if yours is any better though."

"David! I'm shocked to hear you say such things about me."

"Oh, c'mon, Millie, he's a guy. He doesn't exactly have to-" she was cut off by the semi-truck barreling into the driver side of car. She was knocked around a bit, thank God for seat belts. Then the tree hit her side. The resounding crash would have shaken her to the depths of her soul, even if she had been a hundred feet away. Everything went black for a moment…or it could have been hours. But, when she opened her eyes, she was met with the sight of Millie's bloody pulp of what used to be a body. "Millie? MILLIE?!" Her friend was dead…and so were the boys.

She smelled a gas leak, so she managed to kick the rear door open, and drag herself and her bags out of the car. Those bags were the only thing she owned in the world. Not twenty feet from the car, the sparks from the semi caught the gasoline leaking from under the vehicle she had just vacated. The explosion knocked her off her feet and threw her away. Her head gave a sickening crack as it hit a rock. She saw stars, the world was spinning, then she was floating…

Floating…

Everything was quiet…

Everything was peaceful…

Then she slammed back to the ground…

It all went black.

Outside Milton, England, 1850

He'd been drinking again. Luckily, he had had enough sense to get out of the house and do most of his drinking at a pub where he would not be known, even if it was a long ride back. It wasn't as if he were completely smashed, but there was enough of a buzz for him to be content to become a vegetable in the carriage he was using to get home. The gentle rocking of the carriage was almost calming enough to make him sleep…if not for the nightmares he knew would haunt him when he did. Suddenly, the carriage stopped.

"Driver, why have we stopped? We can't be there already." John Thornton said with his usual sharp tone.

"Sorry, sir. But there's somethin' in the road. I'm gonna have to move it." He sighed as the man got down and went to the dark mass just in the way of the wheel. "By the good Lord above!" the man exclaimed.

"What? What is it?"

"Tis a girl, sir. She's all bloody. Dear Lord, what…what do we do?" John got out and went to the man and what he now saw was a small woman in strange clothes with a few bags around her. "Sir?"

He knelt down and picked up her wrist (which he noticed where bare) and checked for a pulse. "She's alive…barely. Help me get her to the carriage; we'll take her to my house."

A while later, he was leading the driver up the stairs to the sitting room where his mother and sister sat up doing needle work.

"John, what is the meaning of this?"

"We found her on the way back, lying in the road."

"Oh, my God!" Fanny quipped. "Is she alive?"

John gave his sister a dark look. She was such an airhead sometimes. "Yes, Fanny, she's alive. I wouldn't have brought her if she wasn't. Mother, we need to call Dr. Donaldson, do you think he'll come at this hour?" Hannah Thornton nodded and went to get her shawl. "Fanny, you stay here with her and have Jenny boil some water and rags. We'll need to get her cleaned up soon." With that, he left with his mother and the cab driver.

"Oh, dear. Poor girl. She must have had a terrible fright. Jenny!"

There was a voice, high and breathy, quite annoying in her mind. Another, softer, more subdued voice answered in words that were heard like those heard under water. The first sensation came in the form of pain. Pain everywhere. It was like she was being torn apart. But then, it quelled a bit as a gentle hand put a cool cloth on her face. Someone shushed her, like a mother would a sick child. The high voice was back, far too loud for her shock sensitive ears. She groaned, which quieted both of them.

"I have to get some more water, miss. I'll be back in jiffy," the quiet voice said.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear. Mother and John have been gone an awful long time. I do hope nothing's happened to them." She shifted, trying to open her eyes. "Oh, you're awake! Oh, that's good. Um, my mother and John have just gone to fetch the doctor." The woman spoke with a voice as if she were speaking to an old woman who was nearly deaf, in loud, halting words. "They should be back at any moment now. Don't worry, everything is going to be alright." Her accent was strange…like a mix between proper and cockney English.

The door downstairs slammed, making her head pound. Multiple pairs of shoes ran up the stairs, to the room where she lay.

"Fanny, what are you yelling about?" that voice…it sounded so…smooth like velvet, yet deep and resounding. It was a nice change from the woman who yelled in her ear.

"I was just reassuring her."

"Has she woken?" this one was a stern woman's voice, more like the man. Used to being heard and listened to. "Where is Jenny?"

"She went for more water. Well, I think she's waking up. I mean, she was turning over a moment ago, groaning like a dying person might."

"She could very well be dying, miss." A softer man's voice came closer. "She looks as if she's been through an explosion. Where did you find her?"

"Outside of town. She couldn't possibly have been in an explosion, there's nothing out there but trees and rocks."

She groaned again as she tried to get more comfortable. Where had that gentle hand gone? Maybe it would take all the pain away.

"Miss? Can you hear me?" she nodded slowly and painfully. "Good. I'm going to have to look you over, and I need you to tell me what hurts."

"Ev…" she swallowed; her throat was raw and dry. "Every…thing."

"Everything?" she nodded again. "Alright. Well, I'm going to check for any broken bones." After a few moments of prodding and checking her over, the doctor checked her head. He pulled the older woman and the man aside to speak in quiet tones as the woman with a gentle voice, Jenny, came back. She heard the door close and the pair returning to the room.

"Well? What did Dr. Donaldson say?"

"He said she may have a concussion. No broken bones, luckily, just a few small fractures in her wrists, from hitting the ground, probably. He said not to let her fall asleep for a few hours."

"Why not?"

There was silence for a moment. "Otherwise she might not wake up. Jenny, would you mind preparing a room for her?"

"Yes, Master Thornton."

"John, someone must stay with her. Fanny must be getting home, I have places to be tomorrow, and you have work in the morning. Jenny will be leaving to get home in a bit."

"I'll stay up with her, until it's safe to put her to bed. I doubt we'll be able to get her cleaned up and into a dressing gown until she's up and about. You go on to bed, Mother."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'll be fine. Fanny, you'd best be getting on. I'm sure William will be worried."

"Oh, yes. Thank you, John. I think that would be a good idea."

There was much shuffling and goodnights given. Until, finally, all was silent. She still hadn't opened her eyes, probably because one was practically swollen shut, and the other couldn't handle the light. Her head was pounding, and her body ached. Swallowing was difficult, and she could hardly move.

"Miss?" She turned her head to show she heard him. "How did you end up on the side of the road?"

"I-" she wheezed, "don't…know. Where…am…I?"

"You're at Marlborough Cotton Mills."

"What…town…am…I in?"

He found it an odd question, but one must humor the sick. "Milton."

She finally managed to crack open her good left eye, taking in the sight of a man in very expensive looking tails and waistcoat. Though his face was fuzzy, she could tell he was handsome. The only definite feature she could make out was the color of his eyes…they were a light azure color that popped out with the contrast of his dark clothes. "Water…please?" God, she sounded pathetic.

"Of course. Forgive me for not thinking you would be thirsty." He fetched a glass and held it to her lips. Despite the pain, she managed to sit up enough to drink.

"Nice costume. Going for a…Victorian gent…or something?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nobody wears…tails unless…they're going to a p…party. And…no one wears a…cravat at all." She coughed hard, a bit of blood coming up with the effort. He gave her more water to help her breath.

"You must have hit your head very hard indeed. Any gentleman would wear tails and a cravat. You must be from the lower orders."

"I thank you…not to make…assumptions. I'm pretty…well off for…"

"For? For what?"

"Sir?" Jenny opened the door.

"Yes?"

"Her room's ready, if it's alright to let her rest now."

"Thank you, Jenny. Help me get her up."

It took some trial and error, but they managed to get her up the stairs and into bed with little incedent. Except for her losing her footing on the top of the stairs and nearly bringing them all down, they made it there safely.

"I'll tuck her in, Master Thornton. You should go to bed."

"Right, of course." He left the room and closed the door. Only to realize something. "I didn't even ask her name."