To Release an Earl

by Ilene Withers

  “I can’t wait to look into these suggestions more,” John said.

  “Yes,” Yale agreed, “let’s speak to the blacksmith early in the morning. Then, if we feel he has any ideas, I’ll let you approach Willa with them. After all, you will need to make the same modifications in your own home when you are married.”

  Chapter Twelve

  John and Yale ate an early and hearty breakfast before leaving the house to talk to the blacksmith. The two of them told Abbott they were taking the downstairs Bath chair with them. The butler would get one of the footmen to carry Willa downstairs and another to bring the other chair down to the first floor. They pushed the chair down to the smithy and stepped under the roof of the shed to interrupt his work.

  "Morning, my lords," he said, obviously surprised at the visit. "How can I help ye?"

  "Lord Roydon and I need your opinion, Dawson," the viscount began. "Miss Willa is having to use a Bath chair for mobility now that she is suffering from paralysis, and we were wondering what you might be able to do to improve it."

  The blacksmith looked out at the chair, squinting in the morning sunlight. Dawson laid down the piece of iron he had in his hand, stripped off his heavy gloves, and walked over to the chair where he squatted down and began to inspect it. John and Yale watched as he walked around it, pushed and pulled it, and tested the seat with his hand. The blacksmith took off his cap and ran his hand through his hair, put it back on, and then turned to look at them.

  “The first thing I would recommend is for me to remove this hood. Does she need it? Sure, it would keep the sun off her face, but I see her outside, and she always wears a hat.”

  John stepped closer as understanding dawned. “If the hood were removed, she would be able to reach the wheels and propel them forward at least a short distance without needing someone to always push or pull it.”

  “That’s right,” Dawson said. “Then, if it were up to me, I’d cut off this foot rest and put on a smaller one. Most women’s feet ain’t big enough to need much space.” The blacksmith indicated the steering mechanism and the front foot support. “I can cut down the steering handle and the undercarriage support and move the front wheel back. That would make it a good bit shorter in length and easier to handle.”

  Yale looked at John. “I was sure he would be able to fix it. What do you think?”

  “We should let him,” John said decisively.

  The viscount looked back at his employee. “Do it Dawson. Unless a horse urgently needs shoeing, make it a priority.”

  “I will, my lord.”

  “The other thing is,” Lord Amhearst continued, “please put some thought into a type of lifting device. Something which attaches to the beam in the ceiling which would allow my daughter to lift herself from the chair to her bed without always needing help.”

  The blacksmith nodded. “Maybe with a canvas sling she can put underneath herself and something for her hands to use to lift her body with? Then it would swing to either side?”

  “Yes, that is what I had in mind,” the viscount said.

  “I’ll do it. I’ll muse on it, and after I’m done with the chair here, I’ll sketch out some ideas.”

  “Thank you,” the viscount said.

  “Yes, Dawson, your help is much appreciated,” John added before joining the viscount to stroll to the house.

  Once inside the house, Yale turned to John. “I have some estate business to see to. Would you like to tell Willa what the plan is?”

  “I will,” John said. Then he asked Abbott, “Where is Miss Willa this morning?”

  “She is in the morning parlour, my lord.”

  John walked into the room and saw Willa sitting there alone, a pot of tea on a center table nowhere near where she sat. “Good morning. Are you alone?”

  Willa turned and smiled, “For the moment.”

  John walked over and used one finger to tilt her chin up. He covered her mouth with his, deepening the kiss as she sighed, breaking off only when footsteps sounded nearby. “You and I are not alone enough,” he murmured as he straightened.

  “Good morning, John,” Fayre said as she bustled in, a book in her hands.

  “Good morning, Fayre,” he greeted the young woman as he took a seat close to Willa. “What are you two doing this morning?”

  “We were going to read a chapter in a book we are enjoying and share tea,” Willa told him. “Fayre forgot the book, and I got distracted by watching the squirrels outside the window, and my tea grew cold. I suspect the entire pot is cold and we should ring for another.”

  Fayre jumped back up from her seat and touched the pot. “Oh, yes, it is.” She moved to the door where she summoned a nearby footman and made the request.

  John looked over at Willa’s cup. It was empty, although there was some moisture in the bottom. “Your cup is empty, though,” he stated the obvious.

  Willa looked at him. “Only because I cannot even move when I am alone in this chair. I was tired of balancing it so I wouldn’t spill it while laughing at the squirrels, so I dumped the cold tea in the only available place – the houseplant.” Indeed there was a flowering plant sitting on a plant stand next to her chair. “It needed watering anyway, and Claire always insists tea is good for plants.”

  “Claire would know,” John agreed. “I will admit I saw Noel putting tea grounds and egg shells on his plants as well.”

  John reached across to take Willa’s hand. “I have good news for you, then.”

  “What is it?” Willa asked. Fayre’s attention had turned to him, too.

  “Your father and I took one of the Bath chairs out to visit with Dawson, the blacksmith.”

  “So that is why the footman had to carry the upstairs chair down for me.”

  “Yes. We asked Dawson if there was anything he might do to make it better for you.” John chuckled, “I’d call it a monstrosity as it is now.”

  “It is,” Willa agreed. “The chair is as big as a sofa.”

  “Well, he is going to remove the hood so you can reach over the edge and propel the wheels forward if you would like. It’s heavy, so I don’t expect you will be able to push it too far without tiring, but I also know you are quite strong for a woman.”

  “Ah, so I could push it over to the teapot, for instance.”

  “That will be wonderful for you, Willa,” Fayre chimed in.

  “It’s better than just that, though,” John said. “Dawson’s going to cut down the foot rest and shorten the steering handle, moving the front wheel back so it will be quite a bit shorter in length. When he is done you will even be able to sit at a table and be close enough to reach it.”

  Willa looked thoughtful, “Will he do it to both chairs?”

  “Yes, but one at a time. That way if it doesn’t work well, we can replace the one and still have a workable chair until the replacement arrives.”

  A maid came in and set down a fresh tea tray, quietly removing the other and leaving the room. Fayre rose to pour and handed Willa and John each a cup before pouring one for herself.

  “Not that I mind pushing Willa around in the chair, but this will surely make her much more independent.”

  “Your uncle and I feel so,” John said. Turning back to Willa, he continued. “We also asked Dawson to design a device to be mounted above your bed which would allow you to swing yourself from the bed to the chair. Even that bit would help. It would allow you to move back into your own room but still keep the door locked against threats until we have solved the problem of who is trying to harm you.”

  “Hmm. Dawson is good at what he does. It will be interesting to see what he comes up with. Speaking of which, has Mr. Parker made any headway that you know of?”

  “Parker is interviewing all the employees in great detail. We should also hear back from the reference checks soon,” he added. “Until then, of course, we all have to continue to be vigilant. I assume nothing untoward has happened since the snake was delivered.”

  “No,” Will
a said. “Although I must always watch my back. It is making me edgy.”

  “It is making me angry,” John replied. “Infuriated, in fact. I cannot imagine why anyone would wish to harm you. Willa, you are the most wonderful woman in the world.”

  ****

  The most wonderful woman in the world, Willa mused later in the night as she lay in bed next to a sleeping Fayre. She tried to roll over, forgetting momentarily how she was unable to move her legs and then flopped back down on her back, frustrated. Willa loved John so much, and knowing she had to let him go made her heart ache. John had spent the afternoon with her, taking her on a walk to see Pirate and then to sit in the garden sheltered from the cool breeze. Indeed, he had talked to her about the things he wanted to do to make her more independent – fix the Bath chair, make a lift for her so she was able to get out of bed and into the chair without help, remodel one of the rooms at his home so their bed chamber would be on the ground floor, put in ramps at each door to the outside. It didn’t matter, though. Willa still would never be the wife he needed, and she had to release him. The time was drawing near.

  Since she could not sleep, Willa struggled with how she would let him go. John was an honourable man, and she knew he would not easily accept her offer to release him. Many men would do so readily, in fact with much relief. John would not. She decided she would need to give him a nudge, a shove even toward Marty Robinson. While Miss Marty wasn’t quite as highly ranked, she was still a member of the ton. Miss Marty was near John’s age, yet still young enough to give him a healthy heir.

  Willa was not sure how the two felt about each other. She knew John found Marty interesting. He would grow to be fond of her with time, surely. Marty might have feelings for John, but she was far too well bred to let them show, at least to Willa. Pondering this, Willa came to a decision just before her eyes slid shut in slumber. She would host the house party she had thought about. Marty would be invited as well as other eligible young women so John had a choice.

  The ladies in the Amhearst household were used to breaking their fast alone. The viscount and the earl were often out in the stables, talking to the workers, checking on the horses, and even exercising their steeds by the time Willa, Fayre, and Lady Amhearst sat around the table eating and sipping on chocolate or tea. The morning after Willa made her decision about the house party was no different. Willa lifted a piece of crisp bacon to her mouth, nibbled at it, and then looked across the table to her mother.

  “Mother,” she ventured, “you know I am bored beyond belief.”

  “Yes, dear, and I’m sorry about that. Unfortunately, you were never a girl who took to needlework or something you could more easily accomplish now. Instead, you insisted on tagging after your father through the stables far too much. I’m sorry now that I ever allowed it.”

  Willa shrugged, “Don’t be. At least I have those fond memories. I did wonder if you and Papa would allow me to host a little house party.”

  Fayre looked up with interest. “Wouldn’t it be fun?”

  Blythe, too, looked up with interest. “That would be fun, and you did an excellent job of hosting the dinner party. It would most certainly break up the tedium you experience. Who would you invite?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. I wanted your permission first. I did plan to concentrate on young women about my age. Then we could invite more of the neighbors in for the activities, as well, without having to house them. Perhaps just a sennight, since we are getting closer and closer to the holidays.”

  “Yes, and we could host it right away. There are not many activities this time of year, and I’m sure the mothers of the girls who didn’t take during the season would be happy to have a second chance for their daughters to meet an eligible bachelor. I assume you will be inviting a few of them, too.”

  “Of course,” Willa agreed. “What would a house party be without equal numbers?”

  “I’ll speak to your father about it as soon as he has returned to the house,” her mother promised. “Why don’t you and Fayre make tentative plans by then? I am sure we can cajole him into agreeing. And John will be a strong advocate. He is worried about you and wishes to make your life more pleasant.”

  Poor man, Willa mused. John had no idea it was all for his benefit.

  After breakfast, Willa asked Fayre if she would wheel her into the morning parlour. They would need paper and pen, she pointed out, and the small desk there would have all they needed. The door to the room stood open, the morning sun pouring through the east facing windows and beckoning them as they approached. Fayre guided Willa through the door and pushed her toward the same place she had sat the day before. Willa looked toward her favorite plant and her breath caught in her chest. The leaves were withered, the plant drooping. The plant had little life left in it. Willa was confused and then remembered the tea. She had dumped a cup of tea on the plant just twenty-four hours earlier. Tea had never hurt a plant in the past. While she didn’t frequently dump her tea on plants, Claire did it all the time. So did Noel, as did many people. What would cause this? Unless . . .

  “Go get Abbott, Fayre. Now, please.”

  Fayre did as she was bade and soon the butler entered the room, “You asked for me, Miss Willa?”

  “Yes. Do you know what might have happened to this plant?”

  The man looked to the plant she indicated, “No, it was healthy just yesterday.” Abbott walked ahead and fingered the now dead leaves. “I haven’t a clue.”

  That was what she feared. “Do you have any idea where Mr. Parker is? Or my father or the earl?”

  “Lord Amhearst and the earl are both out, no doubt in the stables. I will send for them. Mr. Parker is meeting with the housekeeper. I will fetch him immediately.” Most likely sensing the urgency in her voice, he bustled away.

  “What do you think happened?” Fayre asked.

  “I do believe someone tried to poison me yesterday by putting something in my tea. The tea which grew cold and that I dumped onto the plant.”

  Fayre sank onto a nearby chair. “Oh no,” she whispered. “I am so frightened for you, Willa. Why would anyone do this?”

  A few moments later Mr. Parker entered the room, “Miss Dutton,” he greeted her.

  “Mr. Parker,” Willa began, “yesterday morning Fayre and I came into this room as is our morning habit. We normally spend a bit of time reading a book aloud to each other so we both might enjoy it. However, we forgot the book yesterday. Right after our tea was served and Fayre had poured it, she went to get the book. Meanwhile, two squirrels outside the window were playfully chasing each other, and I grew distracted, allowing my tea to grow cold. In fact, I was laughing so hard my tea began to slosh a bit, so I wanted to pour it out. The only thing close enough, since I cannot move this chair, was this plant. Yesterday it was healthy, but look at it, Mr. Parker.”

  Willa could almost feel the man thinking. “And you did not drink even a sip of the tea?” he asked.

  “No, nary a sip. Neither did Fayre, as hers was also cold by the time she returned with the book.”

  “What happened to the tea?”

  “After the earl joined us, we had a maid deliver another pot, and she removed the cold tea.”

  A flurry of activity could be heard, and Willa’s father, John, and her mother soon all burst into the room. “What has happened?” John demanded of Mr. Parker, his jaw clenched and his fists tight.

  Mr. Parker looked at John. “I assume you remember the tea from yesterday morning,” he said.

  “Yes, it was cold and Willa told me she dumped it on the plant.” At that, his gaze followed the investigator’s to the plant. “It’s dead,” John stated the obvious.

  “There is only one thing I can think of which might be meant to kill a human but will also kill a plant. Arsenic.”

  ****

  The word ran over and over in John’s mind. Someone had tried to kill Willa again. As the thought became clearer in his mind, he spoke without thinking of the impact of his words.
“That means they were willing to kill Fayre as well.”

  That young woman made a squealing sound at the words and grew pale. “I’m sorry,” John uttered. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Fayre.”

  “But it’s true,” she replied. “I, too, was to drink the tea unless it was just in Willa’s cup. I don’t think that could be,” she said as she rose and paced. “I poured the tea, not the maid. There is no way anyone could have known which cup I would give to my cousin. Furthermore, isn’t arsenic a powder?” Here she stopped and looked to Mr. Parker until the man nodded and murmured his agreement. “I am sure there was nothing in either cup,” she continued. “Mother taught me to always look, in case there should be a small bug or something.”

  John became aware of the viscountess shutting the door. “We must send Fayre home, so she is not at risk,” Lady Amhearst stated.

  “No,” Fayre replied adamantly. “I am here to help. The more eyes we have to watch, the less likely something is to happen. I will not be sent home because of a single threat against me when poor Willa has faced so many already.”

  “I appreciate it,” Willa said. “Sometimes Fayre is all that keeps me sane, the only thing which keeps me from worrying about my own life all the time. And without her in the bed at night, I would not be safe because we would have to leave the door unlocked. I would not even be able to get to the bell pull to summon help without her.”

  “You’re right,” the viscount entered into the conversation. “We do need Fayre.” Yale turned toward Mr. Parker, “Have you any leads yet?”

  “I believe I have it down to two possibilities in the stable. I am waiting to hear back on our reference checks. In the house, the only person I am watchful of is the nurse. However, I am mostly basing it on her being the newest employee, and it is not fair to do so. We should hear back on her reference checks soon.”

  “We cannot wait much longer to act,” John put in. “We must do so without delay.”

  Chapter Thirteen