by Bree Wolf
His shoulders slumped, and his lips grew taut as anger claimed his features.
“The poison still lingers in his body,” Evelyn said quickly before her husband’s childhood friend could lose his battle for control. “Also, we cannot be certain what kind it was and how much he ingested.”
Lord Weston’s teeth gritted together.
“I’m hopeful though,” Evelyn added, feeling Camilla cling to her like a woman drowning. “His pulse is steady. His breathing is even.” She met Lord Weston’s gaze. “I am hopeful.”
Nodding to her, Lord Weston squared his shoulders, determination coming to his features. “I thank you, my lady, for all you’ve done. I know very well that we would have lost him today if it hadn’t been for you.” Again, he inclined his head to her in respect.
Evelyn returned his gesture, and yet, she could not help but feel like a fraud. Had she not panicked when her husband had collapsed? Had she not been useless? Had it not been her father who had kept his wits about him?
“If someone indeed wishes to harm him,” Lord Weston continued, his gaze wandering around their small group and locking with each of theirs, “then he is not out of danger yet.” His brows rose for emphasis, and Camilla sucked in a sharp breath. “We need to find out who did this, who wishes to harm him,” he swallowed hard, “before he tries again.”
Evelyn briefly closed her eyes hearing Lord Weston’s words echo in her head. The same as those her father had spoken to her not long ago. Then it was true, was it not? Someone wished to end her husband’s life.
Eyes wide with shock, Camilla shook her head. “I cannot think of anyone who would wish to harm him, especially not in this house.” Again, she shook her head, only this time more vehemently as though she could will her words to be true. “After all, there is no one in this house beyond family and trusted friends. Who could have done such a thing?”
“Perhaps a servant,” Lord Weston suggested as he began to pace up and down the room. “Perhaps someone was approached and did so for a sum.”
Evelyn felt her heart grow cold with dread. “But that would also mean that someone was willing to pay another to have my husband murdered.” The moment the last word left her lips, Evelyn closed her eyes as the realisation of their current situation finally sank in. “I cannot believe that to be true. Certainly, Richard is not an amiable man–at least, if you don’t know him well–but he is honourable. I am certain he has never done anything that would provoke another’s hatred, another’s revenge.”
Lord Weston and Camilla nodded.
“Then let’s look at this from a more practical side,” Richard’s childhood friend suggested. “If Richard dies,” he all but spat the words, “who inherits the title? The estate?” His gaze drifted from Evelyn to Camilla. “Who would benefit? He does not have a son…yet.”
Evelyn swallowed, understanding Lord Weston’s meaning only too well. Had someone truly acted out of greed? Threatened even more now that Richard had taken a wife? Now that another heir had become a very real possibility?
Turning to look at her mother-in-law, Evelyn echoed. “Who would benefit, Camilla? Who would inherit?”
Camilla swallowed, her eyes closing briefly as though all this was suddenly too much. Staggering toward the armchair under the window, she sank into it with a pained sigh.
“As far as I know,” Lord Weston continued, impatience in his voice, “there are no first cousins. Therefore–”
“There is one,” Camilla interrupted, and Lord Weston’s eyes opened wide. “But he is of no consequence.”
“Why not?” Lord Weston demanded. “Why have I never heard of this?”
Camilla sighed, her gaze meeting Evelyn’s. “My husband was the second son. He inherited the title from his elder brother because he and his wife were unable to have children.”
“Then how?” Evelyn wondered aloud a moment before realisation dawned.
“He’s illegitimate,” Camilla said, a hint of embarrassment on her face. “My husband’s brother fathered a child with his mistress.”
Lord Weston shrugged. “Then he truly is of no consequence. A bastard cannot inherit.” He crossed his arms, and Evelyn could see the tension in his shoulders. “Then who? Who would inherit?”
“A second cousin,” Camilla said, “by the name of Steven Lambert. As far as I know, he is a barrister in London.” She shrugged, her eyes apologetic. “I’ve never met him.”
Evelyn felt a cold shiver grip her body. “Could he be here?” she whispered. “Could he have sneaked into the house?”
Camilla’s eyes fell open in shock. “I do not believe so. Would not someone have noticed?”
Lord Weston scratched his chin, his eyes intent as he mulled this new information over. “Perhaps he is posing as a servant,” he mumbled before his head snapped up. “Have you taken any new servants into your employ recently? Perhaps he’s not even posing as a servant but was hired as one.”
Camilla shook her head. “No, not recently. They’ve all been with us for at least a year.”
Disappointment gripped Evelyn’s heart as well as the fear to be left helpless once more. What would happen if they could not figure out who wanted to harm her husband? Would whoever had done this try again? Would she lose Richard, not today, but in a week, a month or even a year from now?
“Write to him,” Lord Weston said through clenched teeth, his eyes urgent as he looked at Camilla. “Write to him and invite him here. It will give us a better idea of who he is and if he has a connection to any of the servants here.”
Camilla hesitated, her gaze drifting from her son’s childhood friend to Evelyn and her father.
“If we do nothing,” Lord Weston said, his voice insistent, and yet, there was a hint of fear in it as well, “how will we prevent the same thing from happening again?”
Swallowing, Camilla nodded. “You’re right. I’ll write the letter immediately.”
“Allow me to assist you,” Lord Weston said, offering her his arm, which she accepted gratefully.
When the door closed behind them, Evelyn became aware of her father’s inquisitive gaze. His pale eyes lingered on her face as though straining to read her thoughts. “You fear it might have been someone else; do you not?”
Evelyn swallowed, knowing that she did not wish anyone to be at fault while knowing very well that someone had to be. Still, thinking this possibility turned the world into a very dark place.
Stepping towards her, her father reached for her hands. “You fear it might have been Mr. Bragg.”
Evelyn swallowed, knowing that her thoughts had strayed in that direction before Lord Weston had started to question Camilla about who would inherit Richard’s title and estate. The thought weighed heavily on her heart because if it had indeed been Mr. Bragg, then had it not been her fault? Because for what other reason should the man have done so but her refusal of his hand? Had she not chosen Richard over him, would none of this have happened?
“I do not wish to think so,” Evelyn finally said. “However, I cannot refute the thought to my satisfaction.”
Her father nodded. “He was furious when you accepted Lord Ashwood’s proposal.”
“He was,” Evelyn confirmed. “And yet, is this a good enough reason to try and end someone’s life?”
“Everyone has his own reasons,” her father said. “Whether or not they’re motivation enough or not is not for us to say.”
Evelyn gritted her teeth. “He did not want me to make the incision.” Meeting her father’s gaze, she felt tears run down her cheeks. “He did not want me to save him.”
Gently squeezing her hands, her father looked at her, his eyes calm. “You might be right,” he whispered softly. “Or he might simply have objected because of his mistrust in your abilities.”
Gritting her teeth, Evelyn cursed under her breath. “Then who? Who did this?” she snapped as helplessness and panic mixed within her heart, sending a new cold throughout her body.
“We cannot know for certai
n,” her father replied, his fingers tightening around hers as he began to sway on his feet. “But we must find –”
“You need rest, Father,” Evelyn interrupted, urging him to take the seat Camilla had just vacated. “I’m sorry to put this on you. I –”
“Nonsense!” her father cut her off, resisting her attempts to push him onto the chair. “None of this is your fault,” he said vehemently, his fingers gripping her chin and raising it so that she would look at him. “You saved his life today. Do not belittle that.”
Evelyn sniffed. “I could not have done so without you. I fell apart.” A sob tore from her throat. “I almost let him die. I asked him to trust me, and then I failed him.”
An indulgent smile came to her father’s lips. “You are a great doctor, my child. The best I’ve ever seen. But today, you were not only his doctor. You were also his wife, and it’s not easy to stay focused when the life of someone we love hangs in the balance.”
Swallowing, Evelyn nodded, feeling some of the weight lifting off her shoulders.
“I’ll retire now,” her father said, and she could see that he was exhausted, “but you must promise to call on me if the need arises.”
Evelyn gave him a grateful smile. “I promise, Father. Thank you.”
After watching her father leave the room, Evelyn returned to her husband’s side. Quickly, she checked his pulse and breathing, reassuring herself that he was indeed fine.
At least for now.
Settling onto the mattress beside him, she drew his hand into hers, gently brushing a curl from his forehead. “I do love you,” she whispered. “I don’t know when it happened, but I do.” A deep sigh rose from her chest. “No matter what happens, I can only hope you know that. That you know that I meant what I said.”
Chapter Thirty-Six – Comfort
Hours passed, and Evelyn continued to sit by her husband’s side. Every few minutes, she would check his pulse as well as his breathing, ensuring that the quill was free of any obstruction.
Then when her eyelids grew heavy, she rose and paced the room, trying to chase away the exhaustion that threatened to claim her. Rubbing her hands over her face, she blinked her eyes vehemently, willing herself to stay awake.
Only when the pull of sleep receded did Evelyn sit by her husband’s side once again. One hand curled around one of his as she watched him while the other gently brushed over his forehead, her thumb tracing the line of his brows. Even in sleep, her husband seemed tense, his muscles taut. Was he plagued by some nightmarish dream?
Occasionally, a groan would escape his lips, and the muscles in his hand clenched, squeezing hers almost painfully. Sweat stood on his forehead, and his skin turned frighteningly pale as though life was finally leaving him.
Again, Evelyn would check his pulse, terrified by what her eyes saw. Still, his heart beat at a steady rhythm, reassuring her that not all hope was lost.
Not yet.
The thought that her husband might not recover sent a jolt of pain through Evelyn’s heart, and she bowed her head as tears rose in her eyes.
“How is he?” Lord Weston’s voice asked from where he stood at the door, his face overshadowed with the same fear Evelyn felt in her heart.
Wiping away her tears, Evelyn cleared her throat. “I did not hear you enter, my lord,” she replied, trying to regain control of her faculties. “He’s sleeping,” she finally said, raising her eyes to meet his as he came to stand on the other side of the bed. “His pulse is strong, but I’m afraid that he ingested too much of the poison.” Unable to keep her fears to herself, Evelyn allowed them to pour forth. “There would be nothing I could do.”
Lord Weston’s face tensed at her open admission, and yet, his eyes were gentle as they met hers. “You already did more than anyone else could have,” he said, a small nod of his head emphasizing his encouraging words. “You saved his life, and I will always be grateful to you for that.” He inhaled a deep breath as his eyes narrowed, taking on a new intensity. “No matter how this ends, I am glad to know that he was loved.”
Evelyn felt her eyes widen. “Did he…? What did he…?”
Lord Weston shook his head. “He said nothing. He wouldn’t. He’s not the kind of man to speak of his emotions.”
“Then how…?” Evelyn sniffled, her gaze shifting to her husband. “I could see that deep down he always feared that he wasn’t worthy of love. That there couldn’t possibly be anyone who would ever feel about him that way.”
Lord Weston chuckled, “He is a bit of a fool, I’m afraid to say.” The humour vanished from his face as quickly as it had come. “I was never able to understand him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about him. He is like a brother to me, and although he never said anything to me about it, I do believe that deep down, he knows.”
Evelyn nodded. “He did. He said that he would not hesitate to put his trust in you.”
A gentle smile curved up Lord Weston’s lips. “Thank you for telling me. I suspected as much, but it’s always nice to hear the words, is it not?”
Again, Evelyn nodded.
“Has he told you that he loved you?” Lord Weston asked, his gaze travelling from his friend’s still form back to Evelyn.
Although his question was of a very intimate nature, Evelyn did not feel uncomfortable discussing it with her husband’s childhood friend. He was indeed family. One to be trusted. “He has.”
“But you don’t believe him?”
Evelyn’s head snapped up. “I do. I do believe him.” She sighed. “But I’m not certain he believed me, especially given how our marriage started.”
Seating himself on the other side of the bed, Lord Weston inhaled a slow breath. “Marriage does not always start out as it ought to; however, it is never too late to lose one’s heart to another.” A soft smile came to his lips. “Still, I do not doubt that he knows. He might wonder how it happened or if he is in truth deserving of your love, but he knows. You only need to look at him to know that.”
Evelyn’s heart began to feel lighter, and she inhaled a steadying breath. “Do you truly believe so?”
Lord Weston nodded. “I know Richard is an odd fellow, but he has a good heart–a rather inexperienced one–but an honourable one nonetheless. I’ve always thought that if he ever fell in love, it would be completely and ardently.” Placing a gentle hand on top of hers, Lord Weston nodded to her encouragingly. “Do believe me, for it is the truth. You have nothing to fear, my lady. You conquered his heart a long time ago and judging from the look in his eyes when he looked at you tonight, he has finally come to realise that your heart beats for him as well.”
Closing her eyes, Evelyn basked in his words, her hand closing more tightly around her husband’s. She drew in a deep breath, and when she exhaled, her head started to spin and became heavy.
“You’re exhausted,” Lord Weston observed. “Go and sleep.”
Forcing open her eyes, Evelyn shook her head. “I cannot. I cannot leave him. I need to make certain he can breathe. If he were to roll over–”
“I will stay with him,” Lord Weston assured her. “In fact, I’m not asking you to leave. Stay, but lie down and close your eyes. I’ll watch over him and wake you if I need your help.”
His eyes held hers, a silent vow in them, and Evelyn felt her determination waver. “You’ll promise to wake me?”
“I will.” His brows rose, and his gaze focused on hers. “You are no good to Richard if you’re exhausted. He will need you when he awakens.”
Nodding her head, Evelyn gave in. Lying down next to her husband, her hand still linked with his, she felt sleep calling to her. Still, her mind would not abandon everything that had happened that day so easily. “How is everyone?” she asked, revelling in the feel of her lids closing.
“They are all right, but frightened and worried.”
For a moment, silence fell over the room, but Evelyn thought to feel its weight, and her skin prickled with things unspoken.
“Do you suppo
se,” Lord Weston finally spoke, “that Mr. Bragg could have done this?”
Immediately, Evelyn’s eyes flew open.
An apologetic smile flashed over his face. “Richard mentioned how furious the man was when you accepted his proposal.” He chuckled, “I’ve never seen him look so jealous than when he spoke to me of Mr. Bragg declaring you his fiancée. Never have I seen him express such strong emotions.” He smiled at her. “You touched him deeply, and I’m glad you did. That you found each other.”
Smiling, Evelyn felt her eyes close, and this time, they remained so. Her mind abandoned all thoughts, all doubts, all worries and joined her husband in sleep.
***
He couldn’t breathe!
Panic spread through Richard’s body, blind and all-consuming as he felt his lungs close off.
Looking about, he found himself surrounded by people. His family. His friends. However, they did not see his distress, did not notice him suffocating, but continued eating their Christmas dinner, smiling and chatting.
Ripping off his necktie, Richard felt his panic grow when he found his efforts in vain. His lungs burst with need for air, and yet, none made it down his throat.
His vision began to blur, and there was a piercing ring in his ears.
With his last strength, Richard tried to call out to them, to get their attention, but it was no use.
He was invisible to them.
Turning his head sideways, Richard froze when he found his wife staring at him, her eyes wide.
Relief spread through Richard before his body gave up, and he slumped to the floor.
Closing his eyes, he was about to surrender his life when gentle fingers touched his face. The shock of his wife’s touch made his eyes jerk open, and he found her lovely face hovering above him, her lips whispering words of comfort.
Richard smiled as the world grew dimmer around him.
Chapter Thirty-Seven – A Return to Life
Surging up, Richard found himself trapped in a darkened room, a dim light somewhere to his right. He opened his mouth to breathe, doing his best to shake off the nightmare, but no air made it into his lungs.