Chapter Sixteen
The interior of Sydney Hotel was as elegant and tranquil as the gardens themselves.
The spacious reception hall with its high ceilings offered a warm welcome as their large group stepped inside.
There was a grand staircase with a wrought-iron balustrade which led to the upper floors.
A grand chandelier cast light onto the marble floor from above, giving the room a heavenly glow.
There were other guests mingling and talking, the large room granting a delicate echo of the spirited voices that filled it.
Adelaide had just begun to allow the peacefulness of Sydney Gardens to soothe her after the earlier turmoil as they all entered one of the tea rooms within the hotel. However, the peace was shattered in an instant as two familiar figures rose from their table.
“Heavens,” Lady Beatrice said, beaming at the group with obvious delight. “What a wonderful surprise to see you all here.”
The dowager duchess and Helena seemed equally thrilled to see the woman and her son.
Lord Edwin, however, gave a smile that, as always, did not reach his eyes.
But Adelaide noticed that this time, rather than cool consideration in his medium brown eyes, there was something that seemed almost nervous and unsettled.
Still, his smile remained steadfast under his mother’s expectant gaze as he bowed, gesturing toward their table.
“Please, join us,” he said. “We just took our seats, and it would be a pleasure to share tea with all of you in this glorious place.”
The older women accepted the invitation with warm smiles and embraces.
Edith glanced first at Lord Thomas, then at Adelaide, biting her lip uncertainly.
The Duke looked bitterly unamused and brooding, though he did not object.
With the decision made, everyone sat around the polished mahogany table.
Adelaide tried to dismiss what she thought she had observed during Lord Edwin’s greeting.
However, when she looked up to see him looking at the duke with a mixture of fear and disdain, her heart sank.
The two men were cousins, and yet the tension between them was all at once very clear to her.
Could it have something to do with the death of Mr. Morrison?
The tea was served a moment later, accompanied by Sydney’s famous Sally Lunn buns.
“It is a happy coincidence that you all chose to visit the gardens at the same time we did,” Lady Beatrice said.
Adelaide studied the woman, still unsettled by the manufactured pleasantness of her son.
Lady Beatrice had always been nothing but kind to her.
But she could not help thinking that Lord Edwin must have learned such odd behavior from someone.
She wanted to trust Lady Beatrice, especially since she lacked any reason not to.
But another glance at Lord Edwin’s detached eyes made her shiver, and she forced herself to look away.
“It is such a lovely time of the year,” the dowager duchess said, echoing her sentiment from the previous day. “I could hardly allow us to miss such a perfect opportunity to see such elegant grandeur and beauty.”
The polite pleasantries continued, and Adelaide tried to recover the sense of calm she had first experienced upon entering the hotel.
However, the rich aroma of the delicious buns did nothing to ease the tension between the younger members of the table, which crackled beneath the light conversation.
When the women finished with the polite niceties, Lord Edwin gave the dowager duchess and Marcus a sympathetic look.
“I heard about Mr. Morrison’s death,” he said. “It is such a tragic way to die. He was a wonderful physician to our family. I offer my sincerest condolences.”
The Dowager Duchess gave her youngest grandson a gentle smile.
“Thank you, dear,” she said. “He was a dear friend to your late grandfather. Our hearts are heavy, but I hope that spending the day here might lift our spirits.”
Lord Edwin nodded.
“I was of the same mind,” he said. “In fact, it was my idea to bring Mother here today.”
Adelaide glanced at Lady Beatrice, who was looking at her son curiously, as though she wanted to ask him something. However, she simply nodded with a small smile.
“It was,” she said, giving Lord Edwin another strange look which he ignored.
Adelaide studied the pair, then glanced at Marcus.
His expression was strained, clearly still impacted by his illness, but his eyes held a suspicious curiosity.
Adelaide knew he was right to look that way.
If Lord Edwin and Lady Beatrice had arrived before them, and it was only late morning, how had they received the news of the physician’s death?
How did we receive the news, for that matter? She wondered again. And why does Lady Beatrice appear confused if they heard about the accident?
Lord Thomas dispelled the awkward tension by rising from his chair. He smiled dotingly at Edith, offering his hand.
“Would you share a dance with me, my lady?” he asked.
Edith brightened at once. She put her hand in his, allowing him to help her stand.
“I would be delighted,” she said.
Adelaide watched as Lord Thomas led Edith onto the floor, where other couples gathered for the upcoming dance set.
There was a careful propriety in their movements, though Adelaide could still see their apparent connection.
She smiled softly, thrilled for her friend and the happiness she shared with Lord Thomas.
The dowager duchess turned to her eldest grandson with a knowing smile.
“Marcus, darling,” she said, glancing at Adelaide. “I am sure that Miss Barrett would enjoy a dance, as well.”
Adelaide’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. She should not have been surprised after seeing the Duchess and her aunt exchanging glances before. However, the public encouragement of a match between them was something she had not expected.
The duke looked at his grandmother with uncomfortable surprise.
“Grandmother, I am unwell,” he said pointedly. “Right now, I have a terrible megrim.”
The dowager duchess gave the duke a firm look.
“I am sure that you can manage one dance set, darling,” she said in the tone they all knew well.
Marcus knew the tone, as well. He sighed, leaving his seat to approach Adelaide.
No formal offer was made for a dance, though he offered his hand gently and his expression softened.
Adelaide took his hand, frowning when she noticed how it trembled over hers.
He tried to hide it by quickly tucking her arm through his.
But the visage he presented showed Adelaide how unwell he felt.
She wanted to lean in and offer to terminate the dance of her own accord.
But when he looked at her again, he gave her a warm, almost sheepish smile.
“I apologise that our dance will not be more graceful,” he said softly.
Adelaide blushed as the heat returned to his eyes and her lower part of her body.
“There is no need to apologise, Your Grace,” she said.
The dance began with a proper distance between them.
However, Adelaide could not help noticing that the duke was, indeed, not graceful.
His steps were unsteady and uncertain, and it was clear that he was suffering from more than a mere megrim.
Perspiration beaded on his forehead despite the comfortable temperature of the room.
“Are you all right?” Adelaide asked. Her worry from earlier returned, and she glanced around, hoping to see Edith and Lord Thomas.
The Duke nodded, though he closed his eyes to do so.
“I am well enough,” he said through clenched teeth. “Let us continue the dance.”
Adelaide grimaced as she looked up at him.
“I have no reservations about ending the dance early with you unwell,” she said.
The duke glared at her, but Adelaide did not see anger in his features. Instead, she saw a man who felt most unwell and now grew increasingly frightened by it. His condition distressed Adelaide and it took all her concentration to keep herself moving in time with the music.
“I am well enough,” the duke repeated, even as more of the color drained from his face. “Please, let us concentrate on the dance. You need not worry yourself about my condition.”
Adelaide bit her lip, looking up at him with hurt and confusion.
Does he truly not know that I care for him? She wondered as she watched him grow paler still right before her. Does he believe that seeing him so ill has no effect on me?
The Duke reclaimed the lead of the dance, and they continued twirling around the floor.
Adelaide remained quiet, even as the sweat on his brow slowly rolled down his face.
She tried to think of a way that she could make the dowager duchess understand the necessity of her grandson receiving immediate assistance.
She looked around once more, noticing Lord Thomas and Edith dancing on the other side of the floor.
She silently vowed to speak with him as soon as the dance finished.
When the Duke began struggling with the most basic steps of the dance, however, she knew it was too late to discreetly request help.
She tried to maneuver inconspicuously so that she could wrap a sturdy arm around him from behind and slowly help him off the floor.
However, just as she began to enact her plan, his large frame swayed dangerously, and she was sure he would collapse.
She abandoned caution and discreetness, wrapping both her arms around one of his, which felt as round as her entire body.
The action drew concerned glances from nearby dancers, but she had no time to entertain them.
The Duke was trembling violently, and his body was slowly going limp.
If she did not get him to safety, he could fall unconscious on the ground where dancers would surely trample him.
“Allow me, Miss Barrett,” Lord Edwin said, appearing with a suddenness that frightened Adelaide. “I shall help him.”
Adelaide stepped back, but she would not leave the duke.
She stared at Edwin as he shouted for the physician, wondering how he had appeared so quickly.
Both the dowager duchess and Edith would have needed to struggle through the crowd of dancers, which would have taken several moments.
Yet Lord Edwin appeared as though he had been watching his cousin during the dance he shared with Adelaide.
Almost as if he expected it, she thought, uncertain of the source of her suspicion, but as sure of it as she was sure that her name was Adelaide Barrett. And what was Mr. Fletcher doing already here? Does he make it a habit of following his patients on excursions?
The afternoon ended then, with the quiet chaos of getting Marcus off the ground and in the carriage. Mr. Fletcher rode with the family, making the coach feel suffocating and oppressive. Adelaide sat quietly while The physician mumbled to himself, fussing over the duke.
“Your Grace, I must insist that you take to your bed and stay there,” he said. “I am making this order indefinite, until I tell you otherwise. You must regain your strength before exerting yourself in such a manner, or next time you might not be so fortunate.”
Marcus mumbled something in return, his head bobbing listlessly as the carriage bounced on the road. Adelaide tried not to stare as the physician continued monitoring the duke’s heartbeat. He sounded very concerned, like a good physician. So why was he looking at Lord Edwin with a smug smirk?
***
Back at the manor, Adelaide lingered in the hallway as Mr. Fletcher emerged from the duke’s chambers with Lord Edwin.
She held her breath, hoping for good news.
They did not see her at first, so she waited for them to finish their conversation.
They were speaking quietly, clearly trying to hide the discussion from potential eavesdroppers.
This suspicion was confirmed when they noticed her presence and fell silent at once.
“Miss Barrett,” Lord Edwin said, approaching with a warm, measured smile. “Do not fret. Marcus is sleeping soundly now, and Mr. Fletcher has his fits under control. He will be all right. He simply needs some rest.”
Mr. Fletcher nodded, giving her a sympathetic smile that looked it had been plucked directly from the villain from a storybook.
“I will do everything I can do for His Grace,” he said.
Adelaide nodded, reflexively curtseying to the physician.
“You are a wonderful physician,” she said meekly. She felt terribly uneasy, but she did not wish to cause any trouble.
The gentlemen silently excused themselves and Lord Edwin escorted the physician down the stairs.
The solicitous effort and the seamless way the two men seemed to perform as if they had spent months rehearsing for a stage play, made her shudder.
Her suspicions were mounting, yet she knew she could say nothing.
To accuse anyone of anything without evidence, which she knew she would not garner from them, would make her sound hysterical.
She retreated to her chambers, her mind churning with questions about the strange events of the afternoon.
Something was terribly wrong, she was sure.
However, could she figure out what it was before it was too late?