CHAPTER TWELVE
“EDWARD!” VIVIENNE SCREAMED, kneeling at his side after he collapsed.
She lifted his head into her lap, her fingers fluttering uselessly over him as he struggled to breathe, each breath quick and seemingly painful when his expression contorted with agony.
Moments later, Barnaby and Edward’s personal servant, Cedric, dropped beside her. Cedric lifted Edward at the waist, propping his arms in the air as if to expand his lung capacity. Edward’s head drooped to the side, each of his limbs limp.
“He’s never been unconscious for one of these,” Cedric grunted, sharing a worried look with Barnaby. But then he turned his attention toward her. “He needs a doctor. Is there one at the palace?”
“Yes!” she gasped, launching to her feet as terror for Edward nipped at her heels. “Get him inside one of the infirmary rooms. I’ll fetch the physician.”
She sprinted away, ignoring the alarmed looks she received from servants and other members of the court. Each footstep pounded a frantic rhythm across carpeted hallways and stone corridors until she burst into the infirmary.
Doctor Clark startled upright from his desk, a paper stuck to his face as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. He swiped the paper away and stood, his attention honing in on her. “Lady Vivienne.”
He dipped into a bow.
“Do you have available rooms?” she gasped. “Lord Beaumont has collapsed.”
The man’s eyes hardened like a doctor with years upon years of experience dealing with patients. He gestured for her to follow him into a room with a small window lighting up a bed within a tight space and a table next to it. He grabbed several medical items and set them atop the table just as Cedric and Barnaby entered the room carrying unconscious Edward.
Her hand flew to her mouth as they laid him on the cot, still struggling to breathe. She clutched her hands to her chest as she stood in the corner, watching as the doctor barked out orders to the nurses. He spouted terms such as scalpel, thoracic drainage, and medications.
The doctor spoke to Barnaby, likely because he was a titled man who seemed to have his head on the straightest in that room. “If he doesn’t respond to this medication, I will have to perform emergency surgery.”
With help from the other men, they lifted Edward into a sitting position and forced a vial of liquid down his throat. Edward coughed and spluttered, wheezed and choked. Most of the medication splattered over his shirt, but whatever he did consume seemed to help calm his frantic lungs enough for them to try again with a second vial.
Thankfully, he responded to the medication, his breathing easing and his body slumping exhaustedly against the stack of pillows on the cot.
Vivienne cupped her face inside steepled fingers, thankful that Edward was recovering from the frightening ordeal.
“What happened?” she asked in a small voice, never once taking her attention off the man she loved.
“I believe one of his lungs collapsed,” Doctor Clark answered. “Though, I can’t figure out for the life of me why.” He lifted his head and addressed Barnaby. “I know nothing of this patient. Tell me more of his medical history.”
But Cedric answered, telling him of his severe heart condition and the symptoms associated with it. She found it difficult to hear just how much Edward had struggled with this for so many years, especially in the past year alone.
“Has he tried any remedies for his condition?” the doctor asked.
“Many. There is only one that has seemed to help, but I don’t believe it works anymore other than to help him sleep.”
“Where can I acquire a sample?”
Cedric reached into his breast pocket and produced a vial filled with translucent yellow liquid, handing it to the doctor. The man carefully inspected its contents, even pouring a small portion onto a piece of glass to view it closer. When he smelled it, his eyes hardened once again, He sniffed the contents several times, only managing to draw out the tension in the room when he said nothing for the longest time.
“What do you smell, Your Lordship?” Doctor Clark held out the vial.
Barnaby took it from him and swirled the liquid before bringing it to his nose. “It smells…acidic. A little bitter. And perhaps a hint of garlic.”
Doctor Clark nodded. “Garlic is used in many herbal remedies. But I also caught the faint whiff of almond.” Vivienne didn’t know how the man’s eyes could have possibly hardened any further, but somehow, he managed it as he crossed the room and closed the door between them and the nurses waiting outside.
“Doctor?” she asked. Unable to stay away from Edward for any longer, she pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the bed and rested her hand over his wrist.
“From how it sounds, Lord Beaumont’s illness has worsened in the past year alone, while it has remained somewhat consistent in the years prior.” He held up the vial again and frowned. “Arsenic poisoning produces many of the same effects as his heart condition. I reckon it would be easy to hide the symptoms behind his other symptoms.”
Her jaw hung agape as she stared at the doctor, not believing her ears. “You believe he’s been poisoned?”
“That is my guess, yes. A slow poisoning to make it unnoticeable.”
She closed her eyes, a hand over her mouth. “Who would do such a thing?”
When she opened her eyes again, she found the two other men turning their heads in Cedric’s direction.
The servant held up his hands in a show of peace. “I would never.”
“We’re not blaming you,” Barnaby said in a frustrated growl, kicking the edge of the table. “You are one of the only people with access to the poisoned elixirs. Who else has access?”
“I don’t know.” Cedric ran a hand down his face. “Clara does. She often administers them herself. She gives them to me to give to Lord Beaumont.”
“And…” The physician leaned forward in his chair with his elbows resting on his knees. “Has his current doctor not picked up on the change of ingredients?”
Vivienne gasped. “You’re not saying his doctor…”
The man pressed his lips together. “I’m not casting blame at anyone. We’re only finding ourselves a list of suspects.”
“I told you,” Cedric protested, “I would never harm him. He’s my friend. I never questioned him once when he skipped his last few doses. Wouldn’t you think I’d be more insistent if I were to blame?”
“When was his last dose?”
“This morning,” Barnaby answered this time, running a hand along his jaw. “He wanted it to help make him sleepy because he was in a lot of pain.”
Oh, my dear Edward.
The doctor nodded gravely. “To be unnoticeable, the dosages would have to be increased in small increments. If his body has been accustomed to higher and higher amounts of arsenic, consuming it again after a short break would have more dire consequences.” He gestured to Edward’s unconscious form. “This accounts for his most recent episode, more severe than the others.”
She clasped her fingers together, praying to the Mother Goddess. “Will he live?”
“It’s…hard to say right now. His lung needs to heal, and I hope it will be able to heal on its own with a bit of rest. We’ll take one day at a time. Keep him out of his home until we find out who is responsible for the poisoning.”
Finally, the man opened the door. “My staff will take good care of him. No one will enter the room without my permission. No one will administer anything to him without my permission.” He looked at her as he reassured, “He is safe here. But he needs rest and medical care. Everyone needs to leave. Especially you, Your Ladyship. It isn’t appropriate—”
Vivienne shot to her feet and interrupted him. “I’m his fiancée!” she cried, only wishing she had a ring to show a commitment to him. “He proposed right before his episode, and I have accepted. I will not leave his side.”
Doctor Clark frowned, appearing unconvinced.
“It’s true,” Barnaby said, backing up her claim whether or not he actually believed it to be true. “I was witness to it. Let her stay with him.”
“Very well. It would do him good to have a loved one by his side while we rid his body of the toxins.”
One at a time, everyone filed out of the door, but Barnaby stopped in the doorway, glancing back at her and lowering his voice. “We need to find out who did this. I will involve the authorities, and I hope to investigate the matter quietly to prevent the one responsible from covering their tracks before we find them.”
“What can I do?”
He smiled, though it didn’t cover the worry in his eyes. “Keep him alive. I know firsthand how a beautiful lady can keep a man’s heart pumping on his deathbed.”
She stared at his retreating back, recalling the gossip she’d heard around the castle. Barnaby’s horse had thrown him off a cliff and he’d hit his head, losing his memories at the time. Ivette, his now wife, had nursed him back to health and helped him recover his memories.
Two nurses entered the room and tended to Edward. Taking his vitals. Checking his breathing. Ensuring his comfort even in unconsciousness. Vivienne continuously held his limp hand, keeping a finger over his disjointed pulse to reassure herself he still lived.
And when what seemed like hours later that Edward stabilized enough for nurses to check in periodically rather than constantly, Vivienne finally released a long, slow breath filled with relief. The doctor had reassured her that if he stabilized and didn’t worsen, he had a high chance of surviving the attempted murder.
Finding herself alone with him for a few minutes, she braved the action of stroking his dark hair down to his stubbled cheek. She caressed his skin over the coarse texture, admiring how handsome he looked with a bit of scruff, as she’d only ever seen him clean shaven.
The dim light of a cloudy afternoon fell on his pale face, illuminating the way his chest rose up and down, uneven as if one of his lungs could only take in so much air compared to the other.
She scooted her chair closer and took his cold, limp hand in hers, pressing a tender kiss to his palm. “Don’t you dare leave me, Edward. Stay for me. For us.” She rested her other hand over her belly, hoping with all her might that they could one day be a family.
But he remained silent, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling with each disjointed breath.
She recalled his episode and the terror of watching it unfold. It had been an extreme case. She knew that. But to watch helplessly as someone she loved suffered? Should Edward survive the attempt on his life, she would subject herself to watching him suffer for the rest of her life.
The thought created a pit of heartache within her, but she would stay by his side always. And she would suffer with him. Because she loved him.
And if he doesn’t love you? an anxious voice whispered in her mind.
Vivienne swallowed the accompanying grief of unrequited love. He’d had several opportunities to confess if he returned her feelings. But he’d only proposed out of obligation. Not love.
“What is it?” she asked, frowning. “Am I too young for you? Am I too much like a friend? Are you interested in someone else?”
To distract her distressing thoughts, she eased Edward out of his stiff jacket and spread a blanket over him to keep him warm. A white handkerchief peeked out of the breast pocket of his vest, and she reached to tuck it back in.
But then her fingers paused their task as she spotted a flicker of brown against the white cloth.
Carefully, she pulled the handkerchief out of the pocket and gasped when she found a lock of hair threatening to fall out. No, not just any lock of hair. Her hair. From when she’d gifted it to him on the night of the masquerade.
“You’ve carried it all this time?” she murmured, unfolding the square cloth to find the lock of hair well-preserved, a faint golden sheen in the small strands of brunette. Perhaps he truly did care. Unless he told her differently, she refused to give up hope.
“Stay with me,” she whispered one more time as she leaned over him, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
She swore she felt his hand twitch in hers, and she hoped more than anything he would hold on. If not for himself, then for her and the child she was growing in her womb.
She glanced toward the door just as another nurse shuffled in with more blankets, but no one else lingered outside the door from what she could tell from her vantage point.
If necessary, she would guard Edward from whatever threat wanted him dead. If they dared to try again…
They would have to get through her first.