Chapter Fifteen #2
Fabric rustled, and when Charlotte sneaked closer, she discerned that Mrs. Sherrington had a pen her hand. The light glanced off the nib. How very odd. Even odder, she was dressed as a shepherdess, with a full shirt and a bonnet with an exaggerated brim.
“What do you want?” William asked again as he crossed his arms at his chest. “I need to return inside.”
“The one thing you would never give me,” the woman responded in a conversational tone.
“Just tell me. I grow weary of this game.” Clearly, he wasn’t having whatever nonsense his ex-mistress was invoking.
Mrs. Sherrington huffed. “God, I should have killed you like I did all the rest.”
Charlotte stifled a gasp. Did that mean there had been more than two men she’d murdered?
William asked the question she couldn’t. “There were more than two?”
“How do you know about them?”
“Your damned book, Francine. You published it anyway even though I asked you not to.”
“That’s because you didn’t give me what I demanded from you.” The mistress slashed out with the pen, causing the earl to jump back.
“And what would that be? I refuse to guess and I won’t feed your ego.”
Another slash of the pen. “Come now, Wolcott. We had such fun together, and games used to be how you got your jollies, or don’t you remember now that you are engaged?”
“You had a specific place in my life, but that’s over.” A sound much like a growl came from him as he worked to dodge the woman’s advances. “Is that why you’re here? Surely, you can’t be jealous of my engagement.”
“Ha!” Mrs. Sherrington lunged again, but William danced away. “Of course I’m not. Your drab and fat fiancée can have you, but we both know she’ll never satisfy you sexually as well as I was able to do.”
Silence reigned in the garden after the statement while Charlotte died a thousand deaths in the shadows waiting for his answer.
Finally, William grunted. “You know nothing about her.” He circled his former mistress, no doubt wary of her motives. “Miss Primrose is your opposite in every way, thank goodness. In fact, she might just be the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Mrs. Sherrington scoffed. “Your engagement was forced.”
“It matters not. We’ve spent enough time together that I’m beginning to know her on a level I never did you, clearly.”
Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek. Warmth spread through her chest from his praise.
“I never thought I’d see the day when the charming and lusty Earl of Wolcott went tip over tail for a nobody of the ton. A viscount’s daughter with nothing to offer.” She slashed with the pen once more, but came up empty, for William sidestepped her attack.
“Everyone is someone, Francine. Just because Miss Primrose isn’t blatant or overblown, doesn’t mean she doesn’t have aspirations.” He shrugged. “It is early days in our engagement yet. There is more to discover.”
“Unfortunately, you won’t have the time.”
“How do you figure?”
A laugh escaped the other woman’s throat, but there was no mirth in the sound. “There is poison in this nib, Wolcott. Deep scratches will have you in and out of consciousness for days, but if I stab you and inject it into your body? You’ll be dead in ten minutes.”
Fear played icy fingers down Charlotte’s spine as her heart squeezed. Good heavens, what exactly is happening?
William gasped. “Why the hell do you want to kill me?”
“Oh, let me count the reasons, but first and foremost, you threw me over.”
“That is what happens to mistresses. You are not immune, and you only wanted me for the gifts I might give. It was a fair exchange.”
“Perhaps not, but I aspire to other things beyond bringing a man to pleasure.” When she jabbed again, William sprang back. “I want your signet ring as payment for my time with you.”
“What?” Surprise rang in William’s voice. “That’s what this is about? You want the diamond? So what you wrote in that damned book was true?”
“Yes, of course. Why else do you think I chose you as a protector?”
He blew out a breath. “It was never my skill in bed?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Mrs. Sherrington snorted.
“You are good, I’ll give you that, but you were easily bored.
However, that isn’t why most mistresses choose their men.
We require many other things in life that we can’t have because we’re either illegitimate or perpetually shunned due to our status within society. ”
Charlotte could imagine the confusion on his face. For all William’s faults, he was a relatively simple man.
He cleared his throat and the sound blended with the nocturnal insects and birds in the garden around them. “But you knew that all along, even when you first approached me, so there’s no use in complaining about it now.”
This time it was Mrs. Sherrington who retreated. “It’s not a fair life. Why should I just accept it because a group of people have decided it is so?”
Drat it, but she had a point.
A surprised burst of laughter escaped him. “That may be so, but that is your life.”
“Oh, you are impossible!” The former mistress lunged at him with the hand holding the pen extended. “And I am done with you!”
“Shit.” William tripped over something on the ground and landed hard on his backside. While Mrs. Sherrington loomed over him and yanked his head back by his hair, he said in a pained voice, “That existence won’t change even if I give you the signet ring.”
“Perhaps not, but you’ll be dead and I’ll have the diamond regardless.”
Cold tingles went down Charlotte’s spine. It was past time to act. She couldn’t continue standing in the shadows while the man she loved was in peril.
“Let me go, Francine.”
“I can’t do that.” A tinge of desperation went through Mrs. Sherrington’s voice.
Another curse left him. “Why did you write that book?”
“To get even with all the men who thwarted my plans.”
“To what end? At least two of them are dead.”
“This is true, and there are a couple of others who are living difficult lives because I didn’t yet know how to perfect the poison.
” The other woman shrugged as if she didn’t particularly care.
“I want people to remember my name and fear it. I want power, and this is the only way I could think of to get it.”
William laughed, but the sound was strained. “Oh, they’ll remember, but not in the way you want, and only because you are a murderess.”
“Pig!” In the shadows and while William’s throat was exposed, Mrs. Sherrington raised the hand holding the pen.
“No!” Charlotte uttered a cry, a noise she had no idea she was capable of creating. As her heartbeat pounded, seconds later, she ran over to the pair. Without thought, she tackled the other woman, knocking her to her knees, but at least the former mistress released her hold on the earl.
“Get off me, you stupid thing.” Mrs. Sherrington huffed and puffed as she and Charlotte wrestled for dominance, but also for control of the pen.
No doubt in desperation, the mistress shoved Charlotte to the ground.
She then scrambled over her and reached William’s side before he could gain his feet.
The pointed end of the pen scraped along the side of his neck before Charlotte knocked her away.
It was difficult to tell in the darkness, but she didn’t think the nib punctured deep, even though a thin line of blood welled on his skin toward his clavicle and shoulder.
“Damn.” William wiped at the blood, ripped the belt off his shoulder and used part of his tunic fabric to try and stem it.
“No!” Out of her mind with worry, Charlotte removed one of her sandals.
She slammed her body on top of Mrs. Sherrington, knocked the woman onto her back as she straddled her waist. “If he dies, there is nowhere you can hide that I won’t find you, you…
you… wrinkled, painted tart!” Then she took her sandal and beat the mistress about the head and shoulders with the footwear.
Tears slipped down her cheeks as the woman beneath her screamed profanities and tried to dislodge her.
“Stay away from the earl, do you hear me?”
“While we all feel the same sentiments, Miss Primrose, perhaps someone with more authority can take care of Mrs. Sherrington?” It was the Duke of Scarborough who spoke and pulled Charlotte off the woman.
“She was going to kill William. Even now he has poison in him.” Frantic, she tossed away her sandal as she ran over the grass to fall to her knees at the earl’s side as he lay, shaking, in a beam of illumination from the open library door.
“I’m aware, Miss Primrose.” The duke snapped his fingers, and two footmen came into the garden.
“I’d wondered where you two had gotten off to, and was fortunate to come outside just as Mrs. Sherrington made her admission.
That plus her attempt on Wolcott’s life gives us enough evidence to pique Bow Street’s interest.” He pointed at the woman still on the ground.
“Take our party crasher inside. Lock her into the butler’s pantry then one of you needs to run to Whitehall and bring back a principal agent.
I’ll write a quick missive for you to carry. ”
With her heart in her throat, Charlotte listened with half an ear, for her whole attention was on the earl.
He was coughing, and he curled into a ball on his side, clearly in pain, his breath coming in pants.
Dear God, she couldn’t lose him, not when she was beginning to care for him so very much.
“Talk to me William.” She brushed a shock of hair from his forehead, caressed her gloved fingers along his cheek.
Then she peered into his face the best she could while he writhed.
“Don’t you dare leave me, not when I’ve done the stupidest thing and fallen in love with you. ”
“Char…lotte…” He reached out a shaking hand, and she grasped it tightly.
“I need you, William. Please hold on.”
He didn’t answer, but his eyes opened and widened as he recognized her. Horrible Gasps and gurgles escaped his throat.
“Scarborough! He’s dying! Please get help!
” Tears coursed down her cheeks. “Someone do something!” Frantic, but feeling helpless and small, Charlotte maneuvered his head into her lap.
“Strive for calm,” she crooned in a soft voice while she finger-combed his hair.
“All will be well, and I’ll wait for you…
for as long as it takes.” When she realized it was true, she cried all the harder. “Fight this, William, for us.”
Guests poured out of the house into the garden, but she ignored them all. William clutched at the skirting of her tunic, opened his mouth, yet spoke no words.
A few minutes later, a man who said he was a physician ran over to them. “What happened here? Scarborough told me his friend had been poisoned.”
“Yes, with this.” When the duke had left and returned, she had no idea, but he held up the pen wrapped in a handkerchief. “The poison is in the nib.”
“I see.” The doctor brought it to his nose and took a sniff.
“Ah.” Then he examined the scratches on William’s skin, which was angry and red.
“The wounds are superficial. They didn’t cut deep, so there can’t have been much poison delivered.
” He took a glass vial from his bag, uncorked it and put it to William’s lips.
“Drink, Your Lordship. It will help you to expel any of the poison and will give us a bit more time.” He helped Charlotte to lift William’s head and seconds later poured the amber liquid into the earl’s mouth.
She gazed at her fiancé, and knew a moment’s uncertainty when nothing happened. Was it too late? Had the poison worked and misfortune would claim him just as he’d always feared? “William?”
“Patience, Miss Primrose,” Scarborough cautioned, as he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.
While she watched William’s far too pale face, his body jerked.
Within the space of a heartbeat, he heaved.
Then he vomited. Copiously. All over her, on the doctor, nearly on the duke’s legs.
Scarborough darted away from the mess before any real harm was done.
Finally, he emptied the contents of his stomach onto himself.
Groaning, he rolled onto his side, gained his hands and knees as he continued to vomit. Eventually, it calmed to dry heaving.
Finally, the earl collapsed onto the grass and lay still.
“William!” Charlotte sobbed as she reached for him, would have crawled over to him, but the doctor stayed her with a hand on her arm.
He put his fingers to the side of William’s neck. “He lives, but his pulse is slow and weak. I’m confident, though that whatever remains of the poison will leave his system.”
“She said it would make him unconscious for days.”
“Mmm.” The doctor nodded. “It is possible, of course. I’ll need to examine what is in the pen, but I shall monitor the earl and see whatever it is to the end.”
“If you will pardon me, I’ll take Wolcott inside and away from prying eyes.” With a soft glance at her, the duke lifted William into his arms then carried him inside the house. Presumably he would bring him upstairs to his bed. The doctor gathered his bag, then trailed behind them.
“You should go inside as well, Miss Primrose.”
She turned at the sound of the duchess’ voice. With a nod, Charlotte allowed the other woman to help her to her feet. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted in a whisper, as the other woman put an arm about her waist and helped her inside.
“There isn’t much to do but wait.” A chuckle escaped the duchess. “And perhaps ring for a bath. You’re rather a mess.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Charlotte managed a chuckle. “True.” William was unconscious or perhaps merely exhausted. It was difficult to tell, but she refused to leave the house until she knew if he would live or die.
Upstairs, she was comforted by the flurry of activity in the earl’s suite as Scarborough carried him into the bedchamber, but the duchess led her to the other end of the corridor and escorted her into the countess suite.
“Rest, Charlotte.” The duchess offered a small smile.
“Ring for a bath and then rest. Someone will wake you if the situation changes.”
“But I have to be with him…”
“Hush now.” She patted her shoulder. “Scarborough will sit with him. And I won’t leave Scarborough. Save your strength. You’ve been through much tonight.”
“But—”
“I know.” The duchess’ eyes were kind as she held Charlotte’s gaze with her own. “Your love is strong, dear. It will wait until he’s come back to himself. Then you can tell him everything.”
I hope to God it isn’t too late.