“Nancy told me that Lady Overlea has taken ill,” the servant
said, his gaze going to Louisa before returning to Nicholas. “Whatever I can do
to help, my lord, I will do it gladly.”
Nicholas nodded grimly at the man’s words. He knew Louisa
was well liked among the staff. “I need your help, William. Can I count on you
to keep quiet about what I tell you?”
The footman straightened at the question. “Upon my word, my
lord, I will tell no one.”
“Good man,” Nicholas said. “First, I need to know if
Harrison is belowstairs.”
The footman shook his head. “I’m not sure, my lord. I saw
him about an hour ago but haven’t seen him since. It is a big house.”
“I think you’ll find that Harrison is gone.”
Tate’s eyes widened as the import of Nicholas’s words struck
him and his gaze moved again to Louisa. “You don’t believe…”
“I fear he may have given Lady Overlea something that made
her fall ill.”
William’s fists curled. “The cur. I will find him myself and
make him sorry.”
Nicholas agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. He wanted
nothing more than to chase the man down, but he couldn’t leave Louisa’s side.
Not while her life was in danger.
“I need you to see if you can find him. If he isn’t in the
house, then ask at the stables. See if you can find out what direction he may
have traveled. And please, don’t tell anyone about my suspicions.”
He watched as the footman, his fists still clenched, turned
and hurried from the room. If Nicholas was any judge of character, William Tate
wasn’t involved in this scheme. He’d seemed genuinely surprised and angry at
what he’d learned.
Nicholas ran his hands through his hair. He wished Kerrick
was already there. It killed him to know Harrison was likely escaping at that
very moment. But as long as the maid remained in his cousin’s employ, and it
was unlikely his valet had taken the time to send word to her, they had someone
who could testify as to Edward’s guilt. It was Harrison who had administered the
poison, though, and Nicholas would make sure he hanged for it.
The door had just closed when it swung open again and a
fair-haired whirlwind flew into the room.
“I heard that Louisa was ill.”
Catherine rushed to her sister’s side and took in her flushed
face and still form before turning to face him. “What happened? She said she
had a headache, but this is like no headache I’ve ever seen.”
Catherine. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have sent
for her first. She’d been studying the plants in the conservatory. She knew
some were poisonous, and it was possible she’d know what needed to be done now.
He closed the bedroom door and turned to her before removing
from his pocket the list she’d given him that morning. Holding it out to her,
he asked, “Which of these plants might cause your sister to fall ill in this
manner?”
Her face turned white with shock. It took her several
moments before she found her voice. “What are you saying?” She took the list
with trembling fingers but didn’t look at it.
“I realize this is a lot to take in, but I need you to
think, Catherine. That reaction I had the other day in the conservatory… I
believe it was caused by a sensitivity I have to a certain plant. A plant
someone has been administering to me without my knowledge for some time now.”
“But why?”
“Why does not matter for now. Suffice it to say I’ve come to
believe that my illness was in fact a result of being poisoned. It makes sense
that the source of the poison is the plant that caused me to react. In all
likelihood, it’s also the poison that Louisa drank.”
Catherine gasped at the news and stared, distraught, at her
sister.
“I need you to concentrate,” Nicholas said, his voice
urgent. “Which plant could cause this, and more importantly, what can we do to
counteract its effects?”
Catherine shook her head as she stared down at the list. “I
don’t know. It could be several. It would all depend on how much was given…”
She looked up at Nicholas, despair in her eyes. “Some of these are fatal if
ingested in any quantity.”
Nicholas closed his eyes briefly, concentrating on holding
back his own panic before replying. “We have to assume she was given the same
poison I was given. That would eliminate the plants that are immediately
fatal.”
Catherine nodded and looked down at the list again. “Some of
these will make one very ill but are not fatal unless administered in a large
quantity.” Her eyes were hopeful when she looked up at Nicholas again.
He thought back over the course of what he’d thought was his
illness. “I believe we are looking for a plant that can be administered in
small quantities to produce changes in perception. It would cause dizziness,
forgetfulness, and bring about a fever. And yes, it would also cause death with
a large dose,” he said, thinking about his brother.
Catherine swallowed visibly. “Do you think Louisa…”
“I hope not,” he said, sending up a silent, fervent prayer.
Her hands shook, but she reviewed the list again carefully.
“I’m not certain. It could be the
Datura
, but I am not sure of all the
symptoms.”
Nicholas took a deep breath before asking the next question.
“Is there anything we can do? Louisa was only upstairs fifteen minutes before I
found her.”
The little color that remained in Catherine’s face seemed to
drain before his eyes.
“For it to have this effect, the dose must have been a large
one.”
Nicholas’s mind spun with the implications. He looked down
at his wife again. Her color was high and her breathing still shallow. He’d
become well acquainted with feeling helpless over the past months as his own
illness progressed, but this was so much worse.
Catherine broke into his misery with a sound of exclamation.
“The poison hasn’t been in her system long. We may be able to flush the rest of
it before it is fully absorbed.”
Nicholas turned to her, momentarily confused.
“How…?”
Catherine was the picture of efficiency now. She reminded
him of her sister, which made his heart hurt.
“If she only drank the poison a little while ago, it will
still be in her stomach. We can induce her to empty its contents—”
“Which would lessen the size of the dose she received,” he
finished for her. Of course. He should have thought of that.
He moved swiftly to the washstand and returned with the
basin.
“Would you like me to do it?” Catherine asked.
“I’ll do it. Go and fetch some water from the kitchen. Bring
up a large pitcher and a glass. After I finish here, making her drink water may
help to dilute what has been absorbed into her system.” He shook his head. “I
don’t know if it will be useful at all, but there’s nothing else we can do, so
we must try.”
Catherine turned to leave, but he stopped her, adding, “Make
sure you do the pouring yourself. We have no way of knowing who else may be
involved in this plot.”
Catherine nodded and without a word fled from the room.
Nicholas turned toward his wife and squared his shoulders.
“Time to wake up, Louisa,” he said, the time for gentleness
past. “We need to get this damned stuff out of you.”
* * *
* *
It was a long night, but at some point in the early hours of
the morning Louisa opened her eyes and looked at him. “Was I imagining things,
or did you…?”
She brought a hand to her mouth and mimed the motion.
Relief more powerful than anything he’d ever experienced
swept through Nicholas.
Louisa frowned. “And why are you not in bed with me?”
He climbed onto the bed beside her, dragged her into his
arms, and just held her. It was a full minute before he could find his voice.
“You scared me to death last night.”
Louisa struggled to sit up. “What happened? Why am I still
in my clothes?”
“Do you remember what happened last night after dinner?”
She stared at him blankly. “After dinner? Nothing happened.”
“You told everyone you had a headache and came upstairs.”
She brought a hand to her head.
“My head does hurt.” Her frown deepened. “But it didn’t hurt
last night. I only said that because I wanted to speak with you privately.” She
dropped her hand. “Speaking of which—”
He cut in. “Before we get to that, tell me what happened
when you reached my room.”
“I already told you, nothing happened. I came in here to
wait for you.”
Nicholas had to know if Harrison had laid a hand on Louisa.
If he’d forced her to drink the tea.
“Was my valet here?”
“Harrison? No, the room was empty.” She looked up at him,
her expression curious. “Since when have you started having tea before bed? I
found a freshly brewed pot of tea and two cups on your nightstand.”
“And you had a cup?”
“It was a little cool, but I thought it would calm my nerves
while I waited. I was most put out with you. Catherine told me you’d had a
brief episode in the conservatory. Have there been other episodes you’ve kept
from me?”
The time for shielding his wife was now over. With Harrison
gone it was likely they were safe from any immediate danger, but Nicholas
couldn’t take that chance. Until this matter was at an end and everyone
involved apprehended, they were both going to have to be careful about
everything they consumed.
He told her what he knew and about his suspicion that his
cousin was poisoning him. He’d expected her reaction to be similar to Catherine’s
the night before—shock and disbelief at first. What he didn’t expect was the
sudden understanding and compassion that lit her eyes.
“Oh, Nicholas,” she said, reaching for his hands. “It goes
far beyond just you, does it not?”
He should have known that her first concern wouldn’t be for
herself, but for him. A lump formed in his throat. He’d been trying not to
think about his parents and his brother. He’d felt their loss keenly, but had
managed to maintain a façade of composure whenever he spoke of them. And after
learning about the poisoning, the emotion he’d been predominantly experiencing
whenever he thought of them was anger. Anger for the person who had caused
their early deaths—his cousin Edward—and an almost overwhelming need to avenge
them. Faced now with Louisa’s compassion, however, that anger receded.
He buried his face in his wife’s neck and clung to her as a
wave of grief swept over him. He couldn’t say how long they remained that way.
What he did know, however, was that God had given him a gift when his path had
crossed with that of Louisa Evans. He’d almost bungled their relationship with
his absurd scheme to have her beget an heir with another man, but somehow he
hadn’t succeeded in pushing her away. He vowed that he would do whatever it
took to keep her safe, even if it meant killing Edward himself.
The Earls of Kerrick and Brantford
arrived shortly after breakfast. Nicholas had them shown into his study where
he joined them after tearing himself away from his wife’s side.
As he entered the dark-paneled room, Nicholas wondered,
again, at Kerrick’s choice of person to call in to help them investigate the
poisonings. Brantford was a few years older than he and Kerrick, but the
fair-haired, blue-eyed man seemed younger. There was an air of serene calmness
about him, and Nicholas couldn’t help speculating now about how much of that
was a façade.
He filled in the two men on everything that had happened,
ending with the previous evening’s events. William Tate had learned that
Harrison had, indeed, left the house while the family was at dinner and was
last seen traveling north. Instead of returning to give Nicholas that
information, however, the footman had sent him a sealed note and had ridden out
after Harrison himself.
“Does the man have any experience in situations such as this
one?” Kerrick asked.
Nicholas shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. He does
know the area very well, though. Better than Harrison, who grew up in London.
That should give him an advantage.”
“Let us hope that Tate thought to bring along a weapon,”
Brantford said, his expression grim. “Desperate men are, as a rule, dangerous
when confronted.”
“I want to confront my cousin as soon as possible,” Nicholas
said. “After all the commotion of the past day, it won’t be long before word of
Harrison’s flight reaches Edward. He’ll realize we know about the poisoning
when he hears that the lady of the house is personally overseeing the
preparation of all meals.”
Brantford nodded. “I think it best for Kerrick to go after
Tate and assist him in tracking down your valet. I will keep a watch on your
cousin’s house to make sure he doesn’t leave. We need to gather as much
information as we can from your man before we confront Edward Manning. After
all, we have no evidence he is involved. A confession from Harrison, along with
an examination of the tea you had the foresight to keep, should go a long way
toward proving his guilt.”
“There is a maid in my cousin’s household who is also
involved,” Nicholas said. “We could question her right now.”
Brantford considered that possibility before finally shaking
his head. “Not yet. You said that she passed a note to Harrison. If it was
sealed, the maid may not even be aware of what it contained. No, it would be
better if we had Harrison first. He administered the poison, so we know he has
the information we need.”
Nicholas ground his teeth together in frustration.
Kerrick clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Brantford knows
what he’s about. And with Tate already in pursuit, we have a head start in
tracking him down. It’s a good thing he thought to send word back. From the
sound of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if he is already on his way back with the
bastard as we speak.”
Nicholas nodded, his mood bleak. This whole ordeal could not
be over soon enough. He was right at the edge of his patience and he wasn’t
sure how much longer he’d be able to sit back and do nothing.