A Rose at Midnight

by Jacqueline Navin

  “Yes,” he answered without turning around. Dash it all, he wanted to fling himself at the side of her bed and bury his face in her breast and tell her how terrified he had been. How he couldn’t bear to lose her.

  But things had changed drastically between them from when he could have indulged such an impulse. Or at least, he thought they had. Caroline Wembly Eddington had married him for money, with that he had to become reconciled. Moreover, the pain of her betrayal was already starting to fade. Yet, a new kink had developed. He hadn’t been just any wealthy man. He had been a dying wealthy man.

  What would happen now if she found out he was not—as he suspected—dying after all?

  “The doctor said he would come back this morning. He should be here soon.”

  “Thank you. Could you leave me, please? I need some privacy.”

  “Certainly.”

  There they were; like two polite strangers once again. Before Magnus reached the door, her voice stopped him. “Thank you, Magnus. For taking such good care of me.”

  He paused for a heartbeat. “You’re welcome, Caroline. Now make yourself ready for the doctor. I’ll send Lillian in.”

  Magnus went to his room for a quick sponge bath and a shave. Gregory came in to tell him the doctor was here and had already gone in to see the countess. Dressing quickly, Magnus was stationed outside Caroline’s door when Hebbs emerged.

  “Well? Is she recovered?”

  Hebbs smiled. “She looks bright as a new penny, my lord.”

  “And the baby? Any signs of.”

  “Nothing so far. She’s a sturdy girl. She’ll do all right.” The physician cocked his head at Magnus. “You, my lord, have kept me awake all night. Shall we go have that talk?”

  Magnus brooked no disrespect from anyone, but he didn’t mind at all the way Hebbs spoke to him. He realized just now that the doctor reminded him of his father a bit.

  Once they were seated in the library and Mr. Hebbs had declined tea or coffee, Magnus said, “So, tell me, sir. Is it possible I could be being poisoned?”

  “Not just possible, my lord. It is, in fact, probable. The symptoms are exactly the same and quite consistent with the effects of digitalis.”

  “Then I am not dying.” What an inane thing to say. The doctor had just said as much, and yet Magnus needed to hear the words uttered out loud.

  “I would, of course, wish to examine you, but it’s quite possible—indeed probable from what I can remember hearing about your case from my colleagues—that you are not dying.”

  A detached part of himself observed how odd it was that he felt nothing. One would think he would be overjoyed, leaping about and whooping with delight. He was not dying, dash it all!

  And yet, strangely enough, he found it took a bit of getting used to.

  He looked up at Hebbs. “Why didn’t the other doctors suspect poisoning? Why were they so quick to diagnose me with a heart ailment?”

  “Do not think too badly of them, your lordship. Poisoning is very hard to detect. Only the improbable coincidence of your wife contracting the exact same symptoms alerted us to the possibility. Had I been your physician, I would have made the same prognosis as the others. There is your family history, you see, and there is no denying that weakness of the heart function does run in families. A poisoning of digitalis would not have been a feasible consideration, not with so blatant an explanation available. However, even if one does consider the possibility of a toxic substance, the question would be why? If you are in danger from someone, why would they poison you intermittently? Why did they simply not administer a fatal dose? See? It would make no sense, so even without the familial indications, it would be an unlikely hypothesis by any doctor.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  The doctor sat up, elbows on his knees. “What you don’t understand, my lord, is why. That I cannot help you with. Nor am I able to enlighten you as to the other, perhaps more pressing, question of who. Do you have any suspicions?”

  “Not yet,” Magnus lied.

  “This is a matter for the authorities.”

  Magnus shot him a dark look. “I don’t want to involve anyone else, at least not until I decide what to do.”

  “But, my lord, you are in danger,” Hebbs protested.

  “No,” Magnus rubbed his hands over his lips. “If someone wanted me dead, I would be. Someone wanted me ill, that is all.”

  Dr. Hebbs gave Magnus a long look. “Then you do know who it is.”

  There was no point in denying it, yet Magnus could go no further. So, he simply ignored the question.

  Hebbs stood, bending to retrieve his bag. “You are a peer of the realm and a brash man, and I shall not be able to dissuade you from whatever foolhardy notion you have in your head. So, I will take my leave. No, don’t disturb yourself. I shall see myself out.” He paused on his way to the door. “My lord, please do not make me come back here for any other reason but to deliver your child.”

  Magnus grinned. “I’ll see to it.”

  “Good. In that case, I’ll return in, oh, six months or so.”

  In the wake of his exit, Magnus stood. Simply stood, not moving a muscle, not blinking or swallowing or daring to breathe too deep. He had never felt more alone in his life.

  His life. His life was no longer over.

  And then it happened. Slowly, at first, a slow trickle of belief seeping in around the edges. Then the walls started to crumble. Those carefully constructed barriers he had erected to stave off pain and wanting and fear came crashing down as the trickle turned into a steady stream and finally a gushing flood.

  He sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands. In the silence of his heart, he gave thanks to the Lord who had not abandoned him, though he had abandoned himself so very long ago. He felt like Lazarus. He felt blessed. And he felt wretched because he knew he didn’t deserve it.

  Once he had said to Cara that it was only in dying that he had learned how to live.

  Taking a cleansing breath, he rose to his feet and looked about him. This room still bore the scars of his decimating rage only a few weeks before. The night when he had given himself over to his most base self.

  Could he ever fight his way back?

  He had his life again. He was not going to waste it on bitterness as he had done before. Living, truly living, took courage. He suddenly realized that despite all his bluster and bravado, he didn’t know if he had enough courage to live as he had planned to die.

  He would just have to find out, he decided. He was terrified Caroline would not want a living husband. She had wed him only for the imminent promise of wealthy widowhood. Yet, she had said she loved him. Had she merely pitied a dying man? Or did she truly want him?

  That he wanted her was never in question. He had not liked it, he had tried to deny it, he had railed and fought against it, but it would not go away.

  He closed his eyes. And for the first time since hearing the wonderful revelation, he smiled.

  The week passed as Caroline gained her strength. Magnus seemed to be very busy, coming and going all day long, sometimes whisking a stranger into his library and locking her out. She was wildly curious as to what he was about. Fear dogged her, for something was afoot and she could not imagine that whatever it was boded well for her.

  The only bright spot was her anticipation of her mother’s visit. She was absolutely frantic to see James. She had missed him terribly and was anxious to see how he had progressed. Not being able to be with him, to see him getting well, had been terrible, but before, when things had been good between them, she had had Magnus. Now, without her beloved husband, she needed her family more than ever.

  As the day of their arrival neared, she could barely withstand the anticipation. It affected her appetite, a heretofore unseen phenomenon since the start of her pregnancy. Her lack of interest in food did not escape Magnus’ notice.

  They were seated in the dining room, a pretty room done in yellows and blues. It was cheerful a
nd much less daunting than either of the ones at Hawking Park. Caroline was sitting rigidly in her chair, simply staring at the sliced capon on her plate.

  Magnus said, “Are you feeling ill?”

  The sound of his voice startled her. She looked up to meet his emerald gaze. Her heart gave a single, sharp beat of regret. She missed him. She missed their easy companionship, their fun, their passion. This was only the second meal they had shared in over a week. And he hadn’t touched her in almost a month.

  “My mother is coming today. Sometime this afternoon.” She was reluctant to bring up the subject of her family, cringing lest the mention of them remind him of how she had deceived and cheated him on James’ behalf.

  He seemed undisturbed by her reference. “That should be an enjoyable event. You look positively morose sitting there.”

  “I’m just anxious, that’s all.” She tried a bite, finding no fault with the food yet her throat closed and she put down her fork. She sighed. “I suppose I am being silly. It’s just that I’ve missed them both.”

  Magnus nodded as if he understood. “I assume your concern for your brother is making you nervous. Has he been faring well?”

  The question so stunned her, she took a full minute to respond. “Yes,” she stammered, “from my mother’s reports, he seems to be.”

  “How long has he been ill?” His tone was so unaffected, without any inflection of resentment, she could scarce believe it.

  “He’s been ill since he was three.”

  “They say that the consumption often improves in favorable climes.” He looked down at his plate and began to eat again, dismissing their strange conversation.

  Still dazed, Caroline sat and stared at her husband. He was no longer attending to her, absorbed in his own thoughts, thus giving her the opportunity to study him. His glossy curls gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the windows, casting off warm highlights. She wanted to feel the texture, the softness of it. Like a physical ache, the need to lay her hand against his smoothly shaven cheek made her fingers curl. A surge of longing brought a sting to her eyes, causing her avert her gaze before she fell to weeping right in front of him.

  Gregory, the butler, came to the door.

  “Madam, Mrs. Wembly is here to see you,” he said.

  Caroline stood so quickly, her chair toppled over behind her. Catching Magnus’ eye, she detected a half-smothered grin. He nodded, as if to say, “Go on.”

  Gregory had put Audrae in the yellow parlor. Caroline ran into the room and straight into her mother’s arms.

  “Goodness,” Audrae gasped, laughing and sniffing at the same time. “Look at you. All dressed up and looking every inch the countess.” She held Caroline at arm’s length, her eyes sparkling as she drank in the sight of her beloved daughter. “I’ve never seen you look more lovely. Marriage must agree with you.”

  Nearly choking on the words, Caroline agreed that it did. There would be time for confidences later. “Mother, you look wonderful, too. I love that dress!”

  Audrae smiled, giving a half turn to show off the violet and silver creation. “Not one of Mrs. Dungeness’s,” she said. “I had a Swiss seamstress make it up for me. I have a job now. I secured a position with the sanatorium, sort of a companion-nursemaid. I read to the older patients and see to their care a bit. It’s actually enjoyable. Much better than being idle.”

  “Come sit and tell me all about it. And James, you must tell me everything about him. Where is he now?”

  Arranging her skirts on the settee, Audrae gave her daughter a circumspect look. “I left him back at the hotel.”

  “Alone? And why are you staying at a hotel? It is terribly expensive, and you must stay with us. Magnus knows about James now.” At her mother’s widened eyes, Caroline held up a hand. “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, I want you to take me with you back to your rooms, and we will collect James and have him here.”

  “Quite right,” Magnus said, striding into the room. He came directly to Audrae and took her hand, bowing over it. Audrae inclined her head, making Caroline smile. Her mother had always, even in the worst of times, maintained her dignity. This surprising homage from the earl, she took in as her due.

  “You look well, Mrs. Wembly,” Magnus said. He was relaxed, at his most charming. Caroline looked for signs of his infamous temper, a temper she had tested all too often of late, but he was apparently not going to broach any unsavory topics, namely Caroline’s thievery, with his mother-in-law.

  “As do you, your lordship. Exceedingly well. Caroline’s letters tell me your illness seems to have been giving you a reprieve.”

  Caroline’s breath caught in her throat. No one, not even she, had referred to his infirmity so casually. Magnus, however, only smiled. His dimple appeared, a sign of his genuine pleasure.

  “Yes, indeed, madam. It seems to have done so.” Giving another bow, he said, “I have work to attend to. I only came in to pay my respects. And Caroline is quite right. You must stay at Eddington House.”

  “I thank you for your invitation, your lordship. And I would think it would be more appropriate for you to call me Audrae.”

  “Agreed. And you must return the favor by referring to me by my Christian name.”

  Caroline watched her mother consider this honor for a moment before nodding. “Very well. In private only, of course.”

  “Of course. Good day. Audrae. Caroline.”

  He left them alone. Caroline felt her tension ease in his absence. “Now, I must know about James, Mother. Please, tell me everything.”

  Audrae’s eyes shone. “Oh, Cara, he is doing splendidly. Just last week he ran. Ran. He was walking in a meadow near the main building, and some animal or other caught his eye and he just bolted after it, not thinking. I was with him, and I chased after him. Oh, my darling, I don’t need to tell you how worried I was, but he was fine. A bit winded, but he didn’t cough, not even once.”

  “But that’s wonderful!” Caroline exclaimed. “I must see him. Oh, Mother, let’s go now.”

  Audrae reached up to grab Caroline’s hand, pulling her back down in her seat. “In a moment, darling. I have come alone because there is something I need to tell you.”

  Afraid of bad news, Caroline waited. “Don’t give me that look,” Audrae said. “It’s nothing terrible. At least I hope it isn’t.”

  “Is it James? Is there something you’re not telling me?” Caroline rushed.

  “No, no. Nothing about James. All the news on your dear brother is only good, Cara. I promise.” She hesitated, looking down at her hands, then angling a look at her daughter. “This news is about me. Cara, I have brought someone with me to London. Someone I wish you to meet. His name is Roger Carrey. He is the son of one of the patients at the sanatorium. Cara, Roger is a wonderful man. I want you to like him.”

  Caroline stared, aghast. “Mother, are you trying to tell me you are in love with him?”

  Audrae said carefully, “Cara, darling, he has asked me to marry him.”

  “Oh!” Caroline exclaimed, leaping to her feet and flinging her arms about her mother’s shoulders.

  “Then you are pleased?” Audrae said.

  “Well, I have to meet him first,” Caroline exclaimed, “but if he makes you happy, then yes, I am very happy indeed!”

  They laughed. Caroline sank to her knees in front of her mother, her hands entwined with Audrae’s.

  “Cara, he is a wonderful man. Kind, and generous. James adores him.”

  “Oh, James adores everyone.”

  “But most especially Roger. I’ve told him everything about us, and he is quite sympathetic. He is as pleased as I am at James’ miraculous recovery.” She sobered, leveling her eyes at Caroline. “And just as worried about you.”

  “Me?” Caroline said feebly. “Nothing is the matter with me.”

  A shift upward of her eyebrows spoke of Audrae’s disbelief. “Your letters became less and less contented. I thought it was just a mother’s worry, but Roge
r agreed with me, that there was something there in the tone, something subtle.”

  Caroline rose and took her seat. She sighed. “I stole some items from Hawking Park and sold them to make up the difference in James’ fees. I also sold an heirloom Magnus gave to me, a necklace of his mother’s. I knew he cherished it, but what could I do? I sold them to a London broker, and Magnus has found out.

  “I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me.”

  Audrae was silent for a long time. “You had no right to do what you did, Cara. It was wrong. You know that, and I can see how remorseful you are, so I shall not berate you.” Rising, she paced to the window, and turned. “If I know you at all, I know you are doing a better job of admonishing yourself than I could ever do. Besides, I understand why you did it.”

  “Mother, it was for James,” Caroline whispered. “I hate that I betrayed Magnus, but I had to.”

  “Could you not have told him?”

  Caroline’s shoulders sagged. “I thought I couldn’t. I don’t know, not anymore.” She closed her eyes, barely able to speak. “He used to be wonderful. It became so lovely between us, Mother. We talked, and laughed. He was so different than he had appeared at first. When he was ill, I tended him. He didn’t want me to, but then he allowed it. It brought us close together. He’s been hurt before, and he still carries the scars on his heart, but I thought, at least for a while, he had become almost…happy again.”

  “So, you’ve fallen in love with him.”

  Neither the plainspoken fact nor her mother’s perception surprised Caroline. She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Yes, Mother, I have. I love him so desperately. And he despises me.”

  “But he seemed quite congenial just moments ago.”

  Caroline gave a groan. “That’s just it, he’s congenial. Oh, he was furious at first. Then he settled into this awful politeness. As if we were strangers.”

  “Have you tried to speak to him?”

  “What can I say? He knows what I did. He knows why I did it.”

  Audrae gave her a long, considering look. “Could it be you’re afraid to ask him to forgive you? I never knew you to be a coward, Cara.”