She didn’t want to say any more about the night she tried to kill herself, and she didn’t have to. He understood. She saw it in his eyes.
“You don’t want to give up on life, do you?” he softly asked.
“No. I deserve what I’m going through. I shouldn’t have hid my first husband’s death,” she whispered.
“You mustn’t feel that way. You did the only thing you could do. It was the best decision you could have made. We both know what Lord Mason would have done to you and to this estate if he’d taken over.”
She inwardly shivered. “I don’t trust him. Even now, I can’t help but think he’s up to something, and if I knew what that something was, I might scream.” Turning from him, she went to the curtains and pulled them closed, casting the room into darkness, save for a single candle that was lit on his bedside table. She returned to him and sat by his bed. “Is there anything you need?”
“No. I expect it to be a long night.”
Probably. She wouldn’t expect it to be an easy one. Her gaze went to the cleaned bowl within his reach. It was a stark reminder of how ill he was, and it filled her with dread that he might need it. But there was nothing she could do except stay with him and help him, which was exactly what she’d do.
***
“Your Grace? Your Grace?”
Anna slowly came out of sleep, barely aware that someone was gently shaking her shoulder. She lifted her head, wondering when she’d drifted off. She recalled the clock chiming midnight and watching Appleton as he slept after he finally managed to drink a full glass of water. She straightened in the chair and faced the laundry maid.
“What time is it?” she asked, rubbing the kink out of her neck.
“It’s seven in the morning.”
She studied Appleton who remained asleep and leaned forward. She couldn’t be sure, but he seemed to have gotten some of his color back. “Open the curtains.”
The maid hurried to do her bidding.
Anna didn’t recall Appleton vomiting at any point in the night, but to be sure, she checked the bowl and saw it was still empty. When she turned her gaze back to his face, she was assured that the color had, indeed, returned to his cheeks.
“Are there any soiled sheets or clothes for me to clean, Your Grace?” the maid asked her.
“No. Everything’s clean.”
Appleton shifted in the bed, and the maid came up beside Anna to study him. “He looks better this morning,” the maid commented and touched his forehead. “His fever is gone.”
Encouraged, Anna waited until Appleton opened his eyes to ask, “How are you feeling?”
He swallowed and sat up. She hurried to help him, but he stopped her. “I can do it. I feel better. In fact, I think I’m hungry.”
Anna’s heart leapt with excitement. Her first husband never had an appetite when he was sick. “You are?”
He nodded, and the maid headed for the door. “I’ll ask Cook to make some soup.”
Once she left, Anna took another good look at him. “Do you really feel well enough to eat?”
“Yes, but not much.”
“That didn’t happen with my first husband,” she whispered.
“I’m aware of that.” He smiled. “It looks like your luck is changing. Perhaps His Grace will arrive today.”
She wished that were the case, but for the moment, her concern was for Appleton’s improved health. “Is there anything I can do?”
“I wouldn’t mind another glass of water, and after that, I’d like for you to get some rest and eat.”
“Yes, I’ll do that.” She reached for the pitcher by his bed and poured him a glass of water. “I’ll fill this up and bring more water.”
“You might as well have the footman or maid do it.”
“I don’t mind doing it, Appleton, and to be honest, I’m so relieved you’re better that I suddenly have a lot of energy. I need to do something with it.”
He sighed. “I really hope you’ll get some rest.”
“I will. I promise.” She held the glass to him, and he took it before she left the room to get him more water.
***
After Anna got some rest, she ate a full meal and went to Appleton’s room. She knocked on the door as she entered it, and he looked over at her and smiled.
“I hear you were able to keep the soup down,” she said as she sat beside him.
“I did. I’m about to have more.”
The tension left her muscles and she returned his smile. “That’s wonderful to hear.”
The footman came to the door with a pitcher of water. “Your Grace,” he slowly stated and glanced at the pitcher on the bedside table. “I didn’t realize you’d be in here. I see Appleton already has enough water.”
“Yes, I do. Thank you for thinking of me, Fieldman,” Appleton replied.
“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Fieldman softly stated. Clearing his throat, he added, “I’ll send more when you need it.” He turned to Anna. “In the meantime, Lord Mason is here to see you, Your Grace.”
Her good mood took a nosedive. “Is he?”
“Perhaps I ought to get out of this bed and walk around a bit,” Appleton said.
“No,” she quickly replied. “You need your rest. I don’t want you to have a relapse. Fieldman, send some tea to the drawing room.”
The footman nodded. “Of course, Your Grace.”
After Fieldman left with his pitcher, she patted Appleton’s hand. “I’ll keep him in the room with me, so I won’t have to be alone with Lord Mason. I hope to be back shortly.”
“Tread carefully, Your Grace.”
“I will,” she assured him before she stood up and strode out of the room.
As she entered the drawing room, Lord Mason rose from a chair and bowed. “Your Grace.”
She gave the obligatory curtsy. “What brings you here today, Lord Mason?”
“I came to see if my brother has returned yet.”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“That must be some trip to France.”
She shrugged and averted her gaze from his, glad that the footman didn’t take long in bringing them their tea. “Thank you, Fieldman,” she told him as she motioned for him to pour tea into the cups and sat down. “Have a seat.”
Lord Mason glanced at the footman before he sat across from her.
“I notice you’ve been coming by a lot lately,” she told him as she accepted the cup from Fieldman.
Lord Mason took the cup Fieldman offered him. “Yes. That butler of yours was a formidable wall with the way he prevented me from talking to you.”
“He meant no disrespect. I haven’t felt up to receiving visitors in my condition. He did inform you that I’m expecting a child, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did. I suppose congratulations are in order. I think it’s strange my brother would leave you alone as soon as you told him the news. After all the time it’s taken you to conceive, you’d think he would be telling everyone the good news.”
She forced a sip of tea, sure her sudden wave of nausea had more to do with Lord Mason than with her pregnancy. “He left before he knew.”
“Oh, then he’ll want to return as soon as he receives your letter.”
She took another sip and nodded. She had no way of telling Jason, but Lord Mason didn’t have to know that. Noticing that he didn’t drink from his cup, she asked, “Is the tea not to your liking?”
He glanced at the cup before turning his gaze to the footman. She sensed the two sent a silent message between each other but had no idea what that message was. The exchange caused her a flicker of unease. Then she recalled returning from Gretna Green with Jason and seeing the two arguing. Whatever the issue was at the moment, Lord Mason seemed content and drank from his cup. She lowered her gaze to the tea in her cup. Lord Mason’s tea came from the same pot as hers did. Did Lord Mason think something was wrong with it?
Losing her appetite for the tea, she placed her cup down. When Lord Mason’s eyebrows rose, sh
e said, “I’ve been having difficulty drinking and eating because of the child.”
“Of course.”
She shifted in the chair, not sure what to make of the knowing tone in his voice and what she thought was a smirk on his lips. “What matter do you wish to discuss?”
He glanced at the footman again. “I’d rather discuss the matter in private.”
The hair on the back of her neck rose on end at the thought of being alone with him. “I’m afraid I can’t oblige you on that. With my stomach being as uneasy as it is, I’d like him nearby in case I need something to eat. Can’t we discuss the matter with him here?”
Though he didn’t seemed pleased, he said, “Yes, we can. I suppose I’m not used to having the help nearby whenever I have conversations in my home.”
She shrugged. What could she say to that? Not everyone had an unsavory relative who insisted on stopping by all the time.
“I thought you might like to attend a dinner party I’m having.”
She waited for him to continue, but he took another drink from his cup and waited for her to respond. Why should an invitation to a dinner party require them to talk in private? Dismissing the silent question, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. As much as I would love to accept, my nausea comes and goes at unpredictable times. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be a good visitor.”
“I hadn’t considered that.”
“Is there anything else?”
“No. I’ll be on my way.” He set the cup down and stood up. With a bow, he added, “I hope you receive word from my brother soon. I’d like to congratulate him in person on accomplishing what was once thought to be the impossible.”
Without another word, he followed the footman out of the room. She released her breath and sat back in the chair. She didn’t believe him. He had come by for something else, and if Fieldman hadn’t been in the room, she would have found out what it was. But there was no way she was going to risk being alone with him.
She stood up, and out of curiosity, she crept out of the room. She headed down the hallway that led to the front entrance. Just beyond the door, she spied Lord Mason and the footman talking in low tones, far enough from the door so she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Lord Mason looked agitated, and the footman looked apprehensive. Her eyebrows furrowed. What could possibly be going on between them?
“Your Grace?”
She jumped and whirled around. Pressing her hand to her heart, she laughed when she realized it was one of the maids.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, Your Grace,” she replied with a smile.
“You were so quiet. I didn’t hear you.” Relaxing, she continued, “What is it?”
“Appleton wanted you to know he ate some oatmeal and was able to keep it down. He thought you might find the good news encouraging.”
“Yes, I do. Thank you.”
Deciding to leave the matter between Lord Mason and the footman alone, at least for the moment, she hurried to Appleton’s room so she could see how much better he was doing.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Anna slept well that night. Even if she missed the warmth of Jason’s arms, she took comfort in knowing Appleton was on the mend. The doctor was encouraged as well and figured he got the right medicine to speed his recovery. He said it was the last medicine he’d tried with her first husband before he recovered. Though she accepted the possibility that getting the medicine immediately after getting sick worked, she wondered if there was more to it than that. What did cause Appleton’s illness and why was it so much like what her husband went through before he died?
When she woke up, her first thought was to check on Appleton to make sure he was still feeling better. She didn’t even bother eating breakfast. With any luck, he felt well enough to get out of bed today. But as soon as she saw the maid carrying a bowl full of vomit out of his room, her countenance fell.
“Is Appleton,” she gulped, “worse?”
The maid stopped and gave her a solemn nod. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I don’t know what happened. Fieldman was so attentive to him through the evening and last night.”
As the maid passed her to go down the hallway, Anna clenched her hands together and held her breath. Fieldman tended to him and he was worse? She recalled the times she’d seen Lord Mason talking to him. Fieldman had also tended to her first husband during his illness.
Her mouth set in a grim line, she entered Appleton’s room and saw that he was weak in his bed, his face pale and a grimace on his face. He opened his eyes and turned his head in her direction. She tried to smile, but it wouldn’t come. There was no way this could be a coincidence. When she’d given him water and oversaw his meals, he got better. Fieldman oversaw these things and he got worse?
“Is it true that Fieldman gave you food and water when you got sick the first time and then this time?” she asked, hoping he didn’t detect the bitter edge in her voice.
He thought for a moment and nodded. “Besides the two maids who’ve been cleaning up after me, Fieldman’s been the only one here. Well, besides you.”
Just as she suspected. “You are to only eat and drink food and water I bring to you,” she said.
His eyebrows furrowed. “Your Grace?”
“I don’t have time to explain. I need to talk to Fieldman.”
Without waiting for his reply, she stormed out of the room. She hurried down the hall and searched for the footman. With each step she took, she grew angrier and angrier. How could the footman do this to her and Appleton? He was hired shortly after she married her first husband, and in that time, she had no reason to distrust him. She didn’t know what hook Lord Mason used to make him do his dirty work, but she had no doubt Lord Mason was behind it.
She found Fieldman leaving the kitchen with another pitcher to give to Appleton. This only served to shoot another spark of rage through her. He could knowingly poison someone after seeing the misery he was putting him through? Taking a deep breath, she stopped in front of him and made eye contact with him. “You are relieved of duty. I demand you give me the pitcher at once, pack your things, and leave. And don’t think about coming back. If you so much as set foot on my husband’s property, I’ll have you shot. Is that understood?”
His jaw dropped and his face turned white. “Your Grace?”
“Did you have trouble understanding my instructions?”
A long moment passed between them until he broke eye contact and handed her the pitcher. “No, Your Grace. I’ll leave at once.”
Good. She gripped the pitcher in her hand and remained still as he headed for his room. She examined the water in it. It looked harmless. No one would suspect something so common could be used for foul play. She had the sudden urge to go over to Lord Mason’s estate and make him drink the contents of the pitcher, see what he thought about being so sick that all he could do was lie in bed and vomit. But what good would it do? Whatever he wanted, he’d find another way to get it. And that was the crux of the whole matter. What was it Lord Mason wanted? Was it her first husband’s title? But how did that involve Appleton?
Did Fieldman know? But why would Lord Mason confide in him? He was a footman, not a confidant. No. Lord Mason might bribe him or threaten him, but he wouldn’t divulge the reason why he wanted her first husband and Appleton dead. It couldn’t be her. Lord Mason wanted to be with Lady Templeton.
Realizing she wasn’t going to figure it out—and might not ever figure it out, she took the pitcher outside and smashed it on the ground, watching as it shattered into twenty pieces. If only she could be rid of Lord Mason as easily as she was rid of that pitcher.
She returned to the house and went to the footman’s room. Even if he didn’t know everything, perhaps he’d know something she might be able to piece together. But when she reached his room, all her hopes disintegrated. The footman had hung himself.
***
When Jason arrived in London, he thought it looked different from the last time he was here—when he was with
Anna. It seemed more impersonal, distant, cold. But then everything seemed that way without her. She’d given him a place to belong, a place he could call home in the world. And he’d never been so aware of it until he left her to find out the truth about his past. Soon enough, he’d return to her, and when he did, he’d never leave her again.
But before he could go home and spend the rest of his life with her, he needed to go to the circus and find out if Willie-the-juggler was still there. He prayed Willie was there. By the time he made it to the circus, it had already begun. He paid for his ticket and found a seat in the crowded amphitheater.
As he watched the acrobats swing on the ropes high above the crowd, he waited for something—some spark—to assure him that he’d once been an acrobat, but he felt no hidden memory trying to come to the surface. He sighed in disappointment. It really was as if the past had never happened, except for his fear of horses, but he had no memory of falling off a horse.
Two horses came into the ring, and two acrobats swung down the lower bars and jumped onto the horses. Jason crossed his arms and studied the acrobats as they stood up on the horses and performed their routines. Did he really do all of that at one time? It seemed as if it should have been someone else who did all of those things, but as he watched one of the acrobats grab a low bar and swing up it then swing onto a higher bar, he realized he’d done the same maneuver that day when he and Mason rode their horses. So he had done this routine before.
Another acrobat descended onto the horse and took over. The whole process was done with ease. He couldn’t help but be inspired by it as he watched the performers continue their act. The six acrobats had different roles during the routine, but they made the whole thing look like one fluid movement. The fact that there were enough acrobats for the act told him that his role had been expendable, and maybe that meant he had been easy to replace. Maybe that was why no one bothered to look for him when he was dragged out to the forest and left for dead.
As the act came to an end, he forced aside any thoughts of how depressing it was to know how quickly he could be replaced. His life here hadn’t mattered. The realization only added to the impersonal feeling he got from being in London. The only place he seemed to matter was with Anna, and maybe that was why he was ultimately led here, to realize that his place was with her. Even if he didn’t turn out to be the long-lost twin of Jason Merrill, he was meant to take the title. He’d never given thought to whether or not he believed in coincidences, but perhaps it was time to admit there was a purpose for everything.
Her Counterfeit Husband Page 20