Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Voices, muffled but not distant, crept into Emily’s awareness. She turned her head, pressing her cheek against the raised texture of an embroidered cushion. She shifted, her legs caught in too much fabric. She blinked several times but everything around her was smudged red and gold firelight.
Where was she? She tried to sit up and barely raised her head before everything spun. Closing her eyes hardly made it better. She groaned softly and lifted her hand, which was heavier than usual, to her forehead. It ached, terribly.
Since she could not move or open her eyes, and she had no idea where she was, Emily put all her effort into listening to the people speaking in the next room. They were agitated. Both men. One of them was softer than the other.
Lyness. His was the voice she could barely make out. His words were catching terribly, too. More than she had ever heard. It took her a moment to make out that he was speaking to his brother. About her?
The baron’s answer was louder and clearer. “I have every intention of hunting him down and finding out!”
Finding out? Finding out what?
Why was she somewhere listening to the Eastwood brothers argue?
Then there was a woman’s voice. “I know it may not seem like it, but bringing her here was the right thing to do. I only wish I had been with you in the carriage.”
“There was not time, Mother—” The baron’s voice cut short when a door opened. She heard quick, heavy footsteps.
“Where is my sister?” That voice she knew well.
“Jack.” And that was Juniper. Trying to sound calm. “You need to take a moment to steady yourself. We do not know—”
“I want to see Emily at once,” Jack snapped out, and Emily’s eyes flew open in surprise. She had never heard him use that tone of voice before. And interrupting Juniper? It was not at all like him.
A particularly sharp pain went through her head, from temple to temple, making her wince and close her eyes again.
A soft, firm response followed. “She is resting on the couch in the next room. The doctor is on his way.” The baroness this time. “If you will excuse me, I will see to it there is tea.”
Heavy footsteps, then a door opening, then a rush of clomping steps to her side. Her head made everything sound unpleasant.
“Oh, Emily.” It was Jack. She opened her eyes the barest amount and found him staring at her, his face half in shadows and half revealed by the orange glow of firelight.
Candles? Lamps? A fireplace? She did not know, but the way the light painted his face made him look heartily unliked himself.
His large hand was on her forehead. Ungloved. “Can you hear me?”
She blinked at her brother and opened her mouth to speak, then made a face. Her mouth felt dry. And unpleasant. As though she had stuffed wool in it and spat it out again. But she managed at last to say, “Jack. What happened? Where am I?”
His hand on her forehead moved slowly, stroking her hair back. The gentleness of it startled her. Jack had not touched her with such care since her childhood. The look on his face, his brows drawn together, his eyes wide, made her heart drop.
“Jack, I am all right. I am only a little dizzy. And I have a headache. And there is this feeling in my mouth…” The crease in his brow went deeper, and she added quietly, “I am so sorry to be a bother.”
“You are the furthest thing from a bother.” A smile that did not look quite right appeared on Jack’s face. “I imagine you feel terrible, and you do not need to reassure me when you are the one who is ill.”
It finally occurred to her what was wrong with Jack. Worry had drawn his features, his eyes too wide and the rest of him too taut. And perhaps a little sad. Two emotions she had not seen on his face at such intensity before.
“You are at Lord Hartwell’s house in York,” he explained to her, hand still resting on the top of her head.
It was quite nice. Rather like when she had a cold, just before he left to fight Napoleon.
He had sat with her then, talking nonsense to her about her dolls.
“It is past midnight. We were all at the ball. Do you remember anything?”
Movement behind his shoulder made her adjust her gaze, and she saw Juniper standing behind him. Her gloved hand on his shoulder. Juniper appeared even more distressed than Jack. That was not a good thing.
Emily pulled her focus back to her brother’s probing stare. “I remember the ball. But…” She winced and closed her eyes again. Thinking backward. Which was an odd thing to do. And everything felt strange. Like ribbons running through her hands while she tried to grasp at them.
“It is all right if you cannot remember,” Juniper said, and she moved closer. Kneeling beside Jack. Why were they kneeling? “We can ask Lord Hartwell for more details. And the doctor is coming.”
“No. No, I can try.” Emily swallowed, the dryness in her mouth making the effort unpleasant. “I remember dancing with Lyness.” Heat rushed into her face. She hastily corrected herself. “Mr. Eastwood. It was pleasant. Calm.” Her brow furrowed. “I felt anxious. But the dancing helped.”
Jack didn’t speak. Neither did Juniper. Thank goodness. She was already having a difficult time keeping her thoughts ordered.
“Afterward, everything pressed in upon,” Emily continued softly, her eyes half-closed as she chased the ribbons of memory through the fog in her mind.
“The room was so warm. And the crowd louder. Closer.” She winced.
“Mr. Eastwood asked if I wished for lemonade. Or perhaps I asked him. I am not certain.”
She lifted a hand weakly, as if brushing aside smoke. “Then we went to the refreshment table. Lord Hartwell was already there. I think.” Her eyes squeezed shut.
Juniper’s hand found hers. She smiled at her sister-in-law, hoping it reassured her. Then she swallowed again. Her stomach turned. Too much swallowing. Did she need something to drink?
What had she had to drink at the ball? “Lemonade. I remember that. After… everything is strange. Like it has been smudged or lost.”
For the first time since he arrived at her side, Jack took his gaze off her, turning it to Juniper. His jaw went tight. She knew that look. She had seen it before. In London. When that horrid man had started nasty rumors about her. At a ball.
“I hate balls,” Emily whispered to no one.
Jack rose and walked away, and Emily tried to follow him with her gaze, but then Juniper was there. Still holding Emily’s hand and wearing a reassuring smile, her gaze assessing as it flicked across Emily’s features.
“Everything will be all right, darling. Lord Hartwell sent us a message that said you were ill. He brought you to his home, since it was nearer than ours, and sent for a doctor, too. We will solve this mystery together, and I am certain you will be put to rights in no time.”
There were voices speaking again in the other room. But they were no longer muffled. The door stood open still.
“We believe it was laudanum. Intended for me,” Lord Hartwell’s deep voice said. “I hold the blame for handing the draught to Lady Emily without knowing what was in it. A servant passed it to me.”
“We must return at once to the Assembly Rooms and find that servant.” Jack sounded as though he were issuing a command.
Something he should not do, since he was the son of an earl and Lord Hartwell was a baron.
Or did Jack outrank Lord Hartwell? For a moment, she could not remember.
It was one of the first things she had learned.
Or relearned when she became the daughter to an earl rather than the daughter of a gentleman so poor they learned order of precedence without thinking they would have need of it.
Why were her thoughts all tumbling over one another?
“He will not have lingered,” Lord Hartwell said. “After putting the cup in my hand, whoever it was likely vanished to report the deed done.”
“Would you recognize him again? If you saw him?” The frustration in Jack’s tone made Emily and Juniper wince at the same moment.
“Perhaps. But…I hardly paid attention. He was only another servant.” The baron sounded as resigned as he was frustrated. All this fuss because someone wanted to do him harm?
Emily winced up at Juniper. “Was I poisoned?”
“It certainly seems that way.” Juniper stroked her hair back as gently as Jack had a moment before. “My poor Emily. I regret that I was not beside you in that moment to offer comfort and advice.” She released a soft sigh, and her shoulders drooped as though a heavy burden rested upon them.
The headache thudded with greater rudeness against Emily’s temples, and she squeezed her eyes closed again.
“The doc-doctor is here.” Lyness. She lifted her head to see if he was within sight, but he spoke from the doorway, as though held there by some invisible boundary.
When his gaze found hers, she wanted to offer some reassurance to him.
At least a smile to let him know she was all right, and that she certainly did not blame him or his brother for her predicament.
But he looked away too quickly for her to even attempt it, and then disappeared into the shadows.
The baron took over from there. “Doctor Garrett, here is your patient, Lady Emily.”
The physician stepped forward, bowing briefly to the room at large before addressing Emily herself. He was a tidy man of middle years, his coat brushed and his cravat immaculate, and he immediately gave her the impression of someone who valued order above all else.
“Lady Emily,” he said briskly, “may I ask you a few questions?”
Emily blinked at him. “Yes, of course,” she murmured, though her voice scraped unpleasantly in her throat. She glanced up as Jack circled behind the couch, taking up a position that looked rather as though he meant to stand guard over her.