Chapter 12
SUNSHINE PERMEATED ALEX’S bedchamber and warmed his face to stir him awake early the following morning. He could not have managed more than three or four hours of sleep, but it was enough for him. However, the solid eight hours Tulip had received appeared to be not enough for her.
It troubled Alex that she seemed groggy even after he gently shook her awake.
He had grown used to seeing her bright smile and having her reach up to kiss him when she awoke, but she appeared to have trouble even lifting her head this morning.
He shook her again gently.
“Tulip,” he whispered, kissing her lightly on her warm, pink cheek.
She finally cast him an achingly sweet smile. “Is it time to wake up already? I feel as though I have just closed my eyes.”
Even her movements were sluggish as she drew the covers over herself to bargain for a few more minutes of sleep.
“Love, we need to get an early start. I thought you wanted to come with me.”
And after reading his grandfather’s journal, was there a doubt he needed to keep her close to him today on the chance she was also in danger?
“I did want to, Alex. I do want to. But I can hardly lift my head. Why don’t you go on ahead with Mr. Carver?”
“No, Tulip. I need you with me.”
She snorted. “Weren’t you the one who originally suggested we divide and conquer? You heading off to the farms while I inventory the household silver and work out the weekly menus with Mrs. Granger? This will occupy much of my day.”
Oh, sure.
It would occupy her for about five minutes.
He frowned, but spoke gently to her. “And weren’t you the one who insisted on joining me in touring those farms? If memory serves me correctly, you were quite vocal about it. Come on, Tulip. This isn’t like you.”
Indeed, her lethargy was concerning and nothing like her usual behavior.
True, they had only been married a week, so how was he to know what was usual and what was not?
But every morning since their wedding day, she had bounded out of bed all smiles and chatty, and eager to kiss him.
No, this was not his Tulip at all.
“Love, come on,” he insisted, drawing the covers off her.
She groaned and tried to tug them back over her head. “Why?”
“I’ll tell you as we ride to the farms.”
“All right.” She finally sat up with a gaping yawn. “Give me a minute and I’ll ring for Mrs. Granger.”
“No, let me help you dress.”
“And style my hair?”
“Yes.” He gestured airily with his hands. “I’ll help you pin it up in a simple…I don’t know, that thing ladies do with their hair.”
She rose and shuffled into the duchess quarters.
Alex was already washed and dressed, so he followed her in and went straight to her wardrobe. “Here, this looks like a sturdy gown.”
It was a bluish-gray muslin that would suit her to perfection.
“Not that one, Alex. It will show all the mud stains.”
He hadn’t thought of that. “Or better, this one then.”
He drew out a dark brown muslin for her.
He must have looked perplexed, for Tulip was grinning at him. “Yes, that one’s a much better choice. Give me a moment and I’ll get myself ready. I’ll call you in when I need help with the laces.”
“All right.” Since she was obviously asking for privacy, he retreated to his own bedchamber but kept the door slightly ajar between them because he could not bear to actually shut that door.
It was stupid and nonsensical to want no barrier between them even for something so innocent as getting dressed.
He supposed it was foolish to equate a shut door between them as being shut out of her heart.
“Idiot,” he muttered, and went to the pot of cocoa that sat atop one of the small tables in his bedchamber.
Was it possible Tulip had been drugged?
He lifted the pot’s lid and inhaled, but his nose did not pick up the scent of anything other than cocoa.
He next gave Tulip’s cup a sniff and found nothing odd there, either.
Not ready to give up yet, he poured a little of the cocoa remaining in the pot into Tulip’s cup and took a careful sip.
The cocoa tasted fine, just cold.
What in blazes?
Why was she so lethargic this morning then?
And why had that exhaustion come on so rapidly last night?
He set aside the cocoa and spent the next few minutes examining his bedroom walls for a secret entrance, but he noticed no tell-tale crevices to indicate a discreet opening.
Nor was there a servants stairs since this was part of the old fortress built at a time when defense was most important and not the ‘inconvenience’ of seeing servants moving from room to room as they cleaned.
Perhaps there was a passage hidden in the fireplace, he mused.
He took hold of one of the fire irons and used it to press along the brickwork on its back wall. Despite the ashes having been properly cleaned out, the fireplace was far from spotless, so he did no more than poke at the bricks.
Nothing.
He wanted to step into the massive fireplace and check it out more thoroughly, but he had just washed up and could not risk getting covered in soot.
A more thorough inspection would have to wait for another time.
“Alex,” Tulip called to him in her sweet voice. “I’m ready for help with my laces.”
He strode into her bedchamber, turning breathless at the sight of her standing there with a smile on her face and her gown slipping off her shoulders. She had done up her hair herself, simply drawing it back and pinning it in a braided bun at the nape of her neck.
Gad, she was a pretty thing.
He’d be a happy man if she smiled at him this way each morning.
But how many mornings would he have if there was a killer on the loose determined to dispatch him as efficiently and cleverly as he had done the prior dukes?
Would the killer harm Tulip, too?
Or had she been purposely drugged to keep her out of the way?
Yes, that was likely.
Why else bother putting her to sleep?
Blessed saints.
Perhaps he was meant to be drugged, too.
But he hadn’t taken any brandy last night, instead eager to read his grandfather’s journal while lying in bed with Tulip. Had his remaining awake reading the journal into the wee hours thrown off the killer’s plans?
What irony that his wretched grandfather might have saved his life.
“Tulip, did you have something other than the hot cocoa last night?”
“No, nothing more after our supper. Why do you ask?”
He shrugged. “You were unusually slow to wake up this morning. I thought you might have eaten something or had a drink of something that upset your stomach.”
“No,” she repeated, so he let the matter drop.
She might have taken something during their meal then.
He easily recalled what each of them had eaten because the meal was a single course and rather simple.
Delicious, too.
But they ate the same thing.
They even drank the same wine at supper.
Alex had investigated hundreds of crimes in his relatively short career, succeeding in solving many of them because of his cool demeanor and ability to concentrate on the facts instead of getting caught up in his emotions concerning the crime.
How was he to dismiss all feeling and think with cool clarity in this situation?
“You are frowning,” Tulip remarked as he stood in front of her.
“Just a little distracted, that’s all. Turn around, love.”
Her eyes lit up and she cast him a devastatingly beautiful smile.
Oh, gad.
He had been calling her ‘love’ ever since their wedding night, accidentally having it slip out a time or two because it felt so natural and appropriate.
She was taking to it like a kitten given a bowl of sweet cream.
And now, she smiled every time he used the endearment.
Well, she was becoming his ‘love’ wasn’t she?
“Stop tempting me and turn around,” he said with a chuckle, kissing her on the nose and then taking her by the shoulders to turn her away from him.
He gave her a hot kiss on the neck because he simply could not resist.
She giggled as he tied her laces and took his time about it. “Alex! Are you lacing me up or undressing me?”
His knuckles kept grazing sensitive spots on her body, but who could blame him when she looked so delicious and he genuinely adored being married to her? He readily admitted to working at cross purposes in getting her dressed.
Finally, with a silent chiding to himself, he tied the last of her laces. “There.”
“You are very good at this, Alex.”
“Am I?” He was not about to comment further since he refused to discuss his previous intimate experiences.
He had gained this skill by assisting other ladies back into their clothing after romantic assignations, often in the dark, and when all due haste was required.
There had been nothing romantic about those encounters.
They were merely convenient releases of lust for both participants because he did not choose ladies of sterling character.
They were usually married, unhappily so.
Or widows who enjoyed their independence and intended never to remarry.
These were casual liaisons.
Nothing permanent and certainly no hearts involved.
But that was before he’d met Tulip.
He had not been with another woman since setting eyes on her because there was nothing casual about his feelings for her.
He wanted her.
No one else would ever do.
“Mr. Carver will be along soon,” he said, giving her a softer kiss on the neck before releasing her.
She donned her walking boots, grabbed her bonnet and a shawl, and walked downstairs with him just as a clock in the hall bonged the eight o’clock hour.
Alex was pleased to find their breakfast salvers set out in the winter dining room.
Tulip inhaled deeply. “Oh, my. That’s heavenly.”
“Yes, for certain.” He quietly tasted everything Tulip had served herself, piling a spoonful of each of her choices onto his own plate.
Nothing tasted amiss.
He also pretended to take an interest in the tea poured for her by a footman, taking a sip out of her cup before she’d had the chance to drink it herself. “Ah, that’s good.”
“Alex,” she said, laughing. “You could have asked for a cup of your own.”
“Would you care for tea, Your Grace?” the footman asked, holding out the teapot in his hand.