“No, my lord. Thank you, my lord. I will allow you to get back to your work now…”
Nicholas’s mouth firmed into a grim line as he watched the man scurry from the room. It was clear that Harrison was involved in the poisoning. Nicholas had every confidence he would fold quickly under questioning.
He stood and began to pace. He wanted nothing more than to follow his valet and wring the man’s neck. To ferret out the details of the plot that very moment. When he thought about how Edward had killed his father and brother… His fists clenched and he had to take several deep breaths before he could relax. Nothing would be gained by rushing in now. He only hoped that his impulsive questioning hadn’t tipped his hand. It was vital that his cousin believe he would be successful in killing the current marquess.
He made his way back to his desk and tried to refocus his attention on his reading. All he could do now was wait.
Chapter Eighteen
From the way Louisa kept looking at him over dinner, Nicholas could tell she wanted to speak to him. Since Catherine had given him the list he’d requested that morning, he guessed she may have told her sister what had happened in the conservatory. He’d wrestled with how much to tell her about that incident and his increasing conviction that the men in his family had been, and were continuing to be, poisoned. He didn’t want to lie to her, but it was paramount that he keep her safe. She’d already been on the receiving end of one deliberate attempt to hurt her. Would knowing the truth allow her to be extra cautious, or would it place a larger target on her if she started behaving differently after learning the truth?
Thank God Kerrick and Lord Brantford were due to arrive tomorrow. He wanted this whole mess finished. There was no telling what Edward would do next.
Louisa retired after dinner, claiming a headache. The look she gave him before she headed upstairs, however, made it clear that she wanted him to follow. He smiled as he contemplated all the things he would do to try to distract her from the questions she wanted to ask. He’d leave her with no doubt that he was at the peak of health.
Grinning, he entered his rooms a quarter of an hour later. He’d expected to find Louisa awake, so the sight of her asleep on his bed, atop the coverlet, gave him pause. Perhaps she really was suffering from a headache.
He closed the door softly before approaching the bed and looking down at his wife. His heart turned over with the depth of his feelings for her. He couldn’t wait for this ordeal to be over so he could tell her he loved her. While his life was in danger, however, he didn’t want to add to her loss if something were to happen to him. He guessed she felt the same way about him. At least, he hoped she did. He suffered a moment of doubt as he wondered if she was only worried about him because it was in her nature to take care of others. She had, after all, been in charge of her family’s household for some years, taking care of her younger siblings and nursing her father during the illness that finally took his life. He frowned as doubts crowded his mind.
His breath froze when he noticed she was flushed. That wasn’t a normal symptom of a headache. He placed a slightly shaking hand on her forehead and swore silently when he discovered how hot she was to the touch. This was more than just a headache.
It was only then that he noticed the teacup peeking out from under a fold of her dress. His gaze moved to the night table, upon which rested a tray with teapot and another cup. He’d been so preoccupied he hadn’t noticed it and his heart clenched as he realized what must have happened.
He cursed himself for his stupidity when he’d baited Harrison that afternoon, telling him that he would only be drinking tea from that point forward. It never occurred to him that Louisa might consume a poison that was meant for him. No, not only for him. There were two cups. Sweat broke out on his own brow. Had Harrison, in an act of desperation, decided to take matters into his own hands, or had he been ordered to do so?
He strode to the bellpull and tugged on it before returning to the bed. He placed the empty cup with its mate on the tea tray and with exaggerated care lowered himself onto the bed beside his wife. He brought a hand up to cradle her cheek and spoke softly.
“Louisa? Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
He shook her gently. “Louisa? Please, sweetheart, open your eyes. Let me know you are all right.”
To his relief her eyelids fluttered open, but they closed again almost immediately. Her mouth moved, forming his name, but no sound escaped.
There was a soft knock at the door before one of the house maids entered. Nicholas wasn’t surprised. After such a desperate act, Harrison was probably long gone.
He ordered the maid to send one of the footmen up and to send for the doctor. Panic clouded his brain and his stomach clenched as he looked down at Louisa, lying motionless on the bed. Her breathing was shallow, but he thanked God that she was still breathing.
He rose when the footman entered. Nicholas didn’t know the man personally, but he did know his family. The Tates had been tenants of the estate for many generations and from everything he’d heard they were a good, solid family. There was nothing else for it. He’d have to hope that the man could be trusted.
“Nancy told me that Lady Overlea has taken ill,” the servant said, his gaze going to Louisa before returning to Nicholas. “Whatever I can do to help, my lord, I will do it gladly.”
Nicholas nodded grimly at the man’s words. He knew Louisa was well liked among the staff. “I need your help, William. Can I count on you to keep quiet about what I tell you?”
The footman straightened at the question. “Upon my word, my lord, I will tell no one.”
“Good man,” Nicholas said. “First, I need to know if Harrison is belowstairs.”
The footman shook his head. “I’m not sure, my lord. I saw him about an hour ago but haven’t seen him since. It is a big house.”
“I think you’ll find that Harrison is gone.”
Tate’s eyes widened as the import of Nicholas’s words struck him and his gaze moved again to Louisa. “You don’t believe…”
“I fear he may have given Lady Overlea something that made her fall ill.”
William’s fists curled. “The cur. I will find him myself and make him sorry.”
Nicholas agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. He wanted nothing more than to chase the man down, but he couldn’t leave Louisa’s side. Not while her life was in danger.
“I need you to see if you can find him. If he isn’t in the house, then ask at the stables. See if you can find out what direction he may have traveled. And please, don’t tell anyone about my suspicions.”
He watched as the footman, his fists still clenched, turned and hurried from the room. If Nicholas was any judge of character, William Tate wasn’t involved in this scheme. He’d seemed genuinely surprised and angry at what he’d learned.
Nicholas ran his hands through his hair. He wished Kerrick was already there. It killed him to know Harrison was likely escaping at that very moment. But as long as the maid remained in his cousin’s employ, and it was unlikely his valet had taken the time to send word to her, they had someone who could testify as to Edward’s guilt. It was Harrison who had administered the poison, though, and Nicholas would make sure he hanged for it.
The door had just closed when it swung open again and a fair-haired whirlwind flew into the room.
“I heard that Louisa was ill.”
Catherine rushed to her sister’s side and took in her flushed face and still form before turning to face him. “What happened? She said she had a headache, but this is like no headache I’ve ever seen.”
Catherine. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have sent for her first. She’d been studying the plants in the conservatory. She knew some were poisonous, and it was possible she’d know what needed to be done now.
He closed the bedroom door and turned to her before removing from his pocket the list she’d given him that morning. Holding it out to her, he asked, “Which of these plants might
cause your sister to fall ill in this manner?”
Her face turned white with shock. It took her several moments before she found her voice. “What are you saying?” She took the list with trembling fingers but didn’t look at it.
“I realize this is a lot to take in, but I need you to think, Catherine. That reaction I had the other day in the conservatory… I believe it was caused by a sensitivity I have to a certain plant. A plant someone has been administering to me without my knowledge for some time now.”
“But why?”
“Why does not matter for now. Suffice it to say I’ve come to believe that my illness was in fact a result of being poisoned. It makes sense that the source of the poison is the plant that caused me to react. In all likelihood, it’s also the poison that Louisa drank.”
Catherine gasped at the news and stared, distraught, at her sister.
“I need you to concentrate,” Nicholas said, his voice urgent. “Which plant could cause this, and more importantly, what can we do to counteract its effects?”
Catherine shook her head as she stared down at the list. “I don’t know. It could be several. It would all depend on how much was given…” She looked up at Nicholas, despair in her eyes. “Some of these are fatal if ingested in any quantity.”
Nicholas closed his eyes briefly, concentrating on holding back his own panic before replying. “We have to assume she was given the same poison I was given. That would eliminate the plants that are immediately fatal.”
Catherine nodded and looked down at the list again. “Some of these will make one very ill but are not fatal unless administered in a large quantity.” Her eyes were hopeful when she looked up at Nicholas again.
He thought back over the course of what he’d thought was his illness. “I believe we are looking for a plant that can be administered in small quantities to produce changes in perception. It would cause dizziness, forgetfulness, and bring about a fever. And yes, it would also cause death with a large dose,” he said, thinking about his brother.
Catherine swallowed visibly. “Do you think Louisa…”
“I hope not,” he said, sending up a silent, fervent prayer.
Her hands shook, but she reviewed the list again carefully. “I’m not certain. It could be the Datura, but I am not sure of all the symptoms.”
Nicholas took a deep breath before asking the next question. “Is there anything we can do? Louisa was only upstairs fifteen minutes before I found her.”
The little color that remained in Catherine’s face seemed to drain before his eyes.
“For it to have this effect, the dose must have been a large one.”
Nicholas’s mind spun with the implications. He looked down at his wife again. Her color was high and her breathing still shallow. He’d become well acquainted with feeling helpless over the past months as his own illness progressed, but this was so much worse.
Catherine broke into his misery with a sound of exclamation. “The poison hasn’t been in her system long. We may be able to flush the rest of it before it is fully absorbed.”
Nicholas turned to her, momentarily confused.
“How…?”
Catherine was the picture of efficiency now. She reminded him of her sister, which made his heart hurt.
“If she only drank the poison a little while ago, it will still be in her stomach. We can induce her to empty its contents—”
“Which would lessen the size of the dose she received,” he finished for her. Of course. He should have thought of that.
He moved swiftly to the washstand and returned with the basin.
“Would you like me to do it?” Catherine asked.
“I’ll do it. Go and fetch some water from the kitchen. Bring up a large pitcher and a glass. After I finish here, making her drink water may help to dilute what has been absorbed into her system.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if it will be useful at all, but there’s nothing else we can do, so we must try.”
Catherine turned to leave, but he stopped her, adding, “Make sure you do the pouring yourself. We have no way of knowing who else may be involved in this plot.”
Catherine nodded and without a word fled from the room.
Nicholas turned toward his wife and squared his shoulders.
“Time to wake up, Louisa,” he said, the time for gentleness past. “We need to get this damned stuff out of you.”
* * * * *
It was a long night, but at some point in the early hours of the morning Louisa opened her eyes and looked at him. “Was I imagining things, or did you…?”
She brought a hand to her mouth and mimed the motion.
Relief more powerful than anything he’d ever experienced swept through Nicholas.
Louisa frowned. “And why are you not in bed with me?”
He climbed onto the bed beside her, dragged her into his arms, and just held her. It was a full minute before he could find his voice.
“You scared me to death last night.”
Louisa struggled to sit up. “What happened? Why am I still in my clothes?”
“Do you remember what happened last night after dinner?”
She stared at him blankly. “After dinner? Nothing happened.”
“You told everyone you had a headache and came upstairs.”
She brought a hand to her head.
“My head does hurt.” Her frown deepened. “But it didn’t hurt last night. I only said that because I wanted to speak with you privately.” She dropped her hand. “Speaking of which—”
He cut in. “Before we get to that, tell me what happened when you reached my room.”
“I already told you, nothing happened. I came in here to wait for you.”
Nicholas had to know if Harrison had laid a hand on Louisa. If he’d forced her to drink the tea.
“Was my valet here?”
“Harrison? No, the room was empty.” She looked up at him, her expression curious. “Since when have you started having tea before bed? I found a freshly brewed pot of tea and two cups on your nightstand.”
“And you had a cup?”
“It was a little cool, but I thought it would calm my nerves while I waited. I was most put out with you. Catherine told me you’d had a brief episode in the conservatory. Have there been other episodes you’ve kept from me?”
The time for shielding his wife was now over. With Harrison gone it was likely they were safe from any immediate danger, but Nicholas couldn’t take that chance. Until this matter was at an end and everyone involved apprehended, they were both going to have to be careful about everything they consumed.
He told her what he knew and about his suspicion that his cousin was poisoning him. He’d expected her reaction to be similar to Catherine’s the night before—shock and disbelief at first. What he didn’t expect was the sudden understanding and compassion that lit her eyes.
“Oh, Nicholas,” she said, reaching for his hands. “It goes far beyond just you, does it not?”
He should have known that her first concern wouldn’t be for herself, but for him. A lump formed in his throat. He’d been trying not to think about his parents and his brother. He’d felt their loss keenly, but had managed to maintain a façade of composure whenever he spoke of them. And after learning about the poisoning, the emotion he’d been predominantly experiencing whenever he thought of them was anger. Anger for the person who had caused their early deaths—his cousin Edward—and an almost overwhelming need to avenge them. Faced now with Louisa’s compassion, however, that anger receded.
He buried his face in his wife’s neck and clung to her as a wave of grief swept over him. He couldn’t say how long they remained that way. What he did know, however, was that God had given him a gift when his path had crossed with that of Louisa Evans. He’d almost bungled their relationship with his absurd scheme to have her beget an heir with another man, but somehow he hadn’t succeeded in pushing her away. He vowed that he would do whatever it took to keep her safe, even if it
meant killing Edward himself.
Chapter Nineteen
The Earls of Kerrick and Brantford arrived shortly after breakfast. Nicholas had them shown into his study where he joined them after tearing himself away from his wife’s side.
As he entered the dark-paneled room, Nicholas wondered, again, at Kerrick’s choice of person to call in to help them investigate the poisonings. Brantford was a few years older than he and Kerrick, but the fair-haired, blue-eyed man seemed younger. There was an air of serene calmness about him, and Nicholas couldn’t help speculating now about how much of that was a façade.
He filled in the two men on everything that had happened, ending with the previous evening’s events. William Tate had learned that Harrison had, indeed, left the house while the family was at dinner and was last seen traveling north. Instead of returning to give Nicholas that information, however, the footman had sent him a sealed note and had ridden out after Harrison himself.
“Does the man have any experience in situations such as this one?” Kerrick asked.
Nicholas shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. He does know the area very well, though. Better than Harrison, who grew up in London. That should give him an advantage.”
“Let us hope that Tate thought to bring along a weapon,” Brantford said, his expression grim. “Desperate men are, as a rule, dangerous when confronted.”
“I want to confront my cousin as soon as possible,” Nicholas said. “After all the commotion of the past day, it won’t be long before word of Harrison’s flight reaches Edward. He’ll realize we know about the poisoning when he hears that the lady of the house is personally overseeing the preparation of all meals.”
Brantford nodded. “I think it best for Kerrick to go after Tate and assist him in tracking down your valet. I will keep a watch on your cousin’s house to make sure he doesn’t leave. We need to gather as much information as we can from your man before we confront Edward Manning. After all, we have no evidence he is involved. A confession from Harrison, along with an examination of the tea you had the foresight to keep, should go a long way toward proving his guilt.”
Loving the Marquess (Landing a Lord Book 1) Page 22