Chapter Seven #2
A smile flitted across Dr. Oakley’s face, then vanished.
He stood, addressing Mark. “I am leaving the laudanum, just in case. You know the dangers, so no more than twice a day, and for no longer than three days. I showed His Grace the dosage. After that, willow bark tea will help with the pain. Mostly you need a great deal of rest, preferably with no movement for a few days.” He packed up a few instruments that had been spread across the foot of the bed, then left the room, leaving the three Rydells to stare at each other.
After a moment, Matthew took a deep breath. “I’ll see the doctor out, then bring the servants up to date and ask for some of that tea to be sent up.”
Phyllida scowled. “Why tell the servants?”
Matthew patted her arm. “Because rumors flow in both directions. Although I suspect the tale of his innocence will not be as enticing to spread along.”
As Matthew closed the door, his mother moved closer to the bed, something akin to compassion and curiosity in her eyes.
“Do you believe me now?” he asked.
“It is not about belief—”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” She stepped closer. “But probably not for the reasons you might think.”
Mark studied her. As always, the two of them circled each other, with their banter, their thoughts, their devotion to the family. “So not because you think me incapable of killing?”
“You are a soldier. I know you can kill.”
“And not because of what the doctor said? Or my alibi, which you so calmly brushed aside.”
She shook her head. She moved to the side of his bed and slipped her hand in his.
“You did not kill her because you did not love her. Nor hate her. To strangle someone takes a great deal of strength and anger. That kind of anger only comes from a deep love or consuming fear or blistering rage. You have shown none of those toward her.” She paused and looked away a moment.
When she looked back at him, her eyes glistened.
“I think I knew that. I was worried about your reputation with her but not your heart. For a long time now, I have thought you would never love anyone, with your insistence on never marrying.”
“Now you have seen why.”
She shook her head. “You may think so, but that is not why. You did not call out for her in your anguish. Instead, your heart belongs to another. And not Lady Sculthorpe either, even though you did ask for her in your delirium.”
Mark felt as if everything about him froze. “I did?”
Phyllida nodded. “You did.”
“I—I thought you were her.”
His mother’s mouth twitched. “Well, we will discuss that later. For now, I have a different question. About the one whose name you called out most often.”
“Which is?”
“Who is Olivia?”
*
Tuesday, 19 July 1814
Sculthorpe Manor
Quarter past seven in the morning
“Mummy!”
William dropped a wooden horse and scurried toward Judith. She knelt and welcomed him into her arms for an enthusiastic squeeze.
Behind him, Nanny sauntered toward them. “You are definitely spoiling him, my lady.”
Judith dropped a kiss on the top of William’s curls, then brushed her fingers through his hair.
“Good. Then he will think of me fondly when he goes off to join his brothers at school. He will not dread coming—” Judith chewed her lower lip a moment, squinting back the tears that suddenly brimmed over.
He would not dread coming home the way Daniel does.
“My lady?”
Judith shook her head—not a concern for this moment—then kissed William again and turned him back to his toys. “Go on. Go back to whatever Nanny had you doing.”
He grinned. “I was playing stable master!”
Her eyebrows arched. “Stable master?”
He nodded. “Mr. Robins was showing me. They are taking some of the cattle to the big auction place next week.”
Judith glanced up at Nanny. “They are? Why—”
“Yes!” William pointed to a row of wooden horses. “So he said they had to figure out which to keep and which to sell. So I’m looking at all my horses to do the same.”
“I see.” An odd suspicion began to build in Judith’s gut. “And how do you do that?”
William tugged at her hand. “Come see.” As she followed him, he continued to talk. “With mine, as they are not real, I’m checking for chips, breaks, and splinters and such.”
“Clever boy.”
“Mr. Robins said if I tell him what I have done, then he will show me why he picked some of the horses over others.”
“My! That is quite the”—He’s not quite four!—“undertaking.”
William nodded. “Mr. Robins says I have a—a good eye”—he glanced at Nanny for confirmation, which she gave with a nod—“for horses. And that I have, um, I have—” He looked up again at Nanny.
She bent slightly at the waist and whispered, “A fine seat.”
“Yes! A fine seat! He showed me how one horse was going lame, although it was just beginning.”
“Poor thing.” Why was Edmund selling some of their livestock?
“I know. Mr. Robins said she would probably go to some farm to rest her leg, with big fields full of sweet grass and fresh hay.”
“That would be a kindness.” And probably was a lie to save William from knowing the real truth of what happened to lame horses. Judith had always had a fondness for the groom—now she remembered why. He had been equally kind with Robert and George as they learned to ride.
“I know. I want to go to where they sell them. To see all of them. I begged him!”
Judith stared at him. My baby boy at the auction yard at Tattersall’s? Over my dead—
“But Mr. Robins said no.” His pout returned. “I hate being too young.”
Judith bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Thank you, Mr. Robins! My baby! She sniffed. “I am sure Mr. Robins knows best.”
He tipped over one of the horses. “It’s not fair.”
Judith took a deep breath, knowing she might regret what she was about to say. “Would you like to go to the park to see the geese and ducks? We could ride.”
Nanny turned pale. “Oh, my lady!”
William turned a startled face up at her. “Truly?”
Judith chewed her lip again, then nodded. “I will talk to Mr. Robins—”
“Mummy!” He threw his arms around her legs.
Judith struggled to stay upright, then stroked his head as she mouthed at Nanny, “I know. Spoiled.”
Nanny merely shook her head. “Indeed, my lady.”
Judith chuckled, then peeled her son away. “All right. Let me see what I can work out. I cannot promise anything, but I will make the effort.”
He peered up at her, eyes gleaming and his bow-shaped mouth pursed, as he nodded furiously. “You will do it. I know it. You can do anything!”
Good Lord, this child is going to be trouble.
Judith did not care. She would do whatever she could for her boys. She had already seen what happened when she did not.