The Fairy Tale Bride

by Kelly McClymer

  * * * * *

  "He'll be fine, Your Grace," Katherine said calmly. Miranda could see that Simon was, however, in no mood to be soothed. "How can you be certain?" He paced in the hallway outside Arthur's bedroom door.

  The healer answered wryly, "I gave him something that helped him vomit up most of the poison. And also something to absorb whatever was left in his body. His color is good. He is breathing well and has no fever."

  Miranda said sharply, "Katherine knows what she is doing, Simon." She had not meant to sound so sharp, but her voice carried her own tension. He had sprinted the steps carrying Arthur, meeting them on the landing. Even now, his breathing remained ragged. She was afraid he had overexerted himself. "You need to rest or you will be joining him in the sickroom.

  He shook his head. "I need to see him."

  "Tomorrow —" Katherine began.

  "I don't intend to wait for tomorrow to make sure my heir is not going to die." His breathing, rather than slowing, had grown more rapid, and Miranda watched him with alarm.

  "Please, Katherine," she added her appeal. 'Just for a moment? To ease Simon's distress."

  Katherine looked at him with doubt in her eyes. Then she nodded. "But no questions. He is resting after an understandable shock to his system and he needs no more difficulty tonight."

  Simon nodded brusquely. "I understand. I will save my questions for tomorrow. Tonight I just want to assure myself that he will be well."

  Before he passed through the doorway, he turned back to Katherine. "What manner of poison was it?"

  She tensed and her brows drew together. "Toadstools. I very much fear they were some I had discarded from my basket this morning."

  "Your basket?"

  "When I take the girls for their stroll, I collect leaves, bark, medicinal herbs —"

  "And poisonous toadstools?"

  She flushed, and Miranda gasped at the slight to the healer held in his accusatory expression. "She discarded them when she realized that, Simon. You heard her say so."

  "So she did." He turned his head toward her, and his eyes imprisoned hers. They were sharp as green glass. "Katherine and I will get to the bottom of this, Miranda. You must go back to our guests."

  Miranda went downstairs reluctantly, leaving Simon to check in on Arthur and question Katherine alone. She worried that he would be too hard on the healer, as tense and angry as he was. But he was a just man, and would listen fairly to her story, perhaps finding a clue as to what — or who — was causing all of Arthur's "accidents." It had become more than obvious to her — and she was sure that Simon felt the same, that someone was deliberately trying to kill Arthur. But who?

  Downstairs, everyone seemed subdued. Although the musicians still played, there were few dancers on the floor. Many people had apparently chosen to retire, and had already been led away by footmen to their guest chambers. She checked anxiously for Hero and Juliet, relieved to find them still surrounded, though sparsely so, by admirers.

  Although, she reflected, seeing her sisters still holding court in the ballroom, that meant they had not found anyone to lure them out to enjoy the fragrant gardens. She smiled, thinking that there might have been young men in the group disappointed that neither girl had agreed to a walk in the garden, or a turn about the balconies for fresh air. But she could only be glad. Perhaps her sisters did have more sense that she had had at their age.

  A sinking feeling began in her stomach when she heard a familiar oily voice addressing her from behind. "The duke's heir seems likely to predecease him. Have you and my dear cousin been making a concerted effort to produce a less accident-prone male?"

  ***