Chapter 28
“We need to act now,” Dr. Ludley said, placing a hand firmly down on the mantlepiece as he looked around the room.
“Lord Christopher is growing impatient. He keeps asking me if the duke is improving, and each time, when I tell him that he is only getting worse, he looks at me as if I am lying to him.”
Cassandra placed a hand over her stomach as nervousness fluttered there. Beside her, Lillian also stirred.
Cassandra, Lillian, Alaric, Dr. Ludley, and Lady Pembury were all gathered in Lillian’s sitting room. It was the one place that was safe for them to talk in the house, as Christopher would never enter. He considered such a womanly space, fit only for a servant, to be beneath him.
Which made it the perfect place for the five of them to plot their next move.
“Do you think he suspects we know it is him?” Alaric asked sharply.
His face was hard and lined, there were dark circles under his eyes, and he seemed to have aged several years in the space of the last few days.
But Cassandra still saw the fondness in Lillian’s eyes whenever she looked at him.
Even now, Lillian gazed at Alaric with rapt attention and adoration.
“I do not know,” the doctor said, sighing and brushing a hand across his brow. “But when I spoke to him this morning, he did not seem to believe me that the duke was worse. He seems less feverish to me than he did yesterday, he said. I felt his forehead, and it was no longer hot or clammy.”
“What did you say?” Cassandra asked, her heart stuttering.
“I told him that the illness seems to have reached the next phase of its life,” Dr. Ludley said, spreading his hands wide. “But I cannot say if he believed me. He is smart, after all. And he may know that the disappearance of the fever after prolonged arsenic poisoning is unusual.”
Cassandra and Alaric looked at one another from across the room.
“Very well then,” Cassandra said, as Alaric nodded in agreement. “We must act. As soon as possible. Before he becomes suspicious of us. Alaric, you know where he keeps the letters and arsenic?”
“Yes,” Alaric said. “After searching his room thoroughly, I was able to locate the rest of the letters from the doctor in Edinburgh. These conclusively point to the procurement and use of arsenic, but I did not want to take them until we had all the evidence, in case he noticed they were gone. They are in a small drawer in a box at the very back of his trunk, underneath several large blankets.”
“I will get them,” Cassandra said. Alaric tried to object, but she held up her hand. “It must be me. You have already been searching the family quarters too much. It would make more sense if I were there.”
“But, Cassandra, it is dangerous,” Lillian said, her eyes wide.
“I will be stealthy,” Cassandra assured her.
She needed to do this, she knew. For herself and for Ewan.
“You, Lillian, will stay with Annabelle and keep her safe. If things become desperate, he may try to harm Annabelle, or threaten to harm her, in order to win his own escape. We cannot allow that to happen under any circumstances.”
“Of course,” Lillian said, her jaw hardening with determination. “I will keep her safely here with the door locked. There will be no way for him to get in, other than breaking down the door.”
Cassandra turned to her mother. “And you will be distracting Christopher, yes?”
“I can continue to do so,” her mother said, nodding.
“In truth, I think Lord Christopher is quite taken with my company. I had not thought an old woman could charm a young man like him so easily, but it turns out, all one has to do is flatter him, appeal to his ego.” She snorted. “I should not have been surprised.”
“I am sure that he finds you very charming,” Cassandra said, a little amused.
“Anyway, he will remain polite as long as he possibly can, in order to lull us into a false sense of security. Remember: He cannot appear to be involved in his brother’s death in the slightest, or risk being disinherited by the courts, even if Ewan were to die. ”
She turned to the doctor. “You ought to get back to the duke. Christopher is out riding, but he will be back soon, and I do not want Ewan to be alone while Christopher is in the house. He may try to force-feed him.”
“Very well,” Dr. Ludley said. He grimaced. “It is a dangerous game that we play now, but it is almost over, and I believe that very soon, we shall have our man behind bars.”
They all parted ways, but Cassandra remembered too late that she had left her reticule. She had returned to the room when she heard voices from inside and paused.
The voices belonged to Lillian and Alaric.
“I am scared,” Lillian was saying, in a voice so vulnerable and tender it cut Cassandra to the quick. “What if Christopher cannot be stopped? What if he harms you while you are confronting him?”
“I will not allow that,” Alaric said, his tone reassuring and determined. “But I do need to know that you are safe. As long as I am sure of that, then I will be able to face him without fear.”
“I will be safe,” Lillian assured him, and Cassandra heard the swish of skirts as Lillian took a step closer to Alaric. “Annabelle and I will be safe. The door will be locked. Barricaded. And I would rather die than let him touch the child.”
“You are so brave,” Alaric murmured, and Cassandra blushed at the intimacy of his tone. “So brave when it comes to defending Annabelle. And yet, when it comes to your own life, you run away from what you truly desire.”
“Alaric…”
“No, I must speak plainly, Lillian.” Cassandra was frozen, her hand still outstretched, not daring to move. She knew that she should leave, that this conversation was none of her business, but she could not.
“I love you, Lillian,” Alaric declared into the silence.
“I love you with every fiber of my being, with every inch of my body, with the entirety of my soul. And I know that a life together is terrifying. I know we will be poor and dependent on others for shelter and income. At least in the beginning. But I am industrious, Lillian. Together with the duke, I have helped design drainage systems that are revolutionizing farming in the Highlands. He and I will keep inventing things. Eventually we may patent them and sell them. Or I will invest my portion of the money in a worthy endeavor. Anything I can do to give you the life you deserve.”
“Alaric—”
“But beyond that, Lillian,” he continued, overriding her objections, “I know that we would be happy together. Perhaps we will never be rich, but we will continue to take care of your family in any way we can, and we will be happy. We will have children. We will love one another fully. And I do believe that in the end we will not regret having shared our lives, even if we did not live like kings.”
“Alaric.” Lillian spoke more forcefully now, and Alaric quieted. When Lillian spoke again, there was a trace of laughter in her voice. “I turned down the position at the other house several days ago.”
There was a long silence, and Cassandra wondered, with a smile, what look of shock must be registering on Alaric’s face.
“You did?” he said at last, the hope evident even from the hallway.
“I did,” Lillian said, laughing slightly.
“I realized, after the duke’s illness began, that I could not leave.
And not only because his fate was uncertain, but because he is family.
He is like a brother to me. Cassandra is like a sister.
Annabelle is like a niece. And you…” there was a short, loaded pause.
“You are the man I love. I cannot leave you all now, not in the hour of your need. I want to band together and fight this evil that has pervaded the house. And then—then I want to marry you.”
Cassandra’s eyes were filled with tears as she turned away and made her way silently away down the corridor. Lillian and Alaric deserved privacy as they promised forever to one another.
Just like Cassandra would want privacy when, and if, she was able to tell Ewan how she felt.
That was the other reason she was crying. Not out of envy, exactly. She was happy for her friends, overjoyed for them. But she wanted that, too. To tell the man she loved how she felt, to feel his astonishment and joy and gratitude at hearing those words from her.
She wanted a real marriage, one of love and tenderness, affection and children, all the things that Alaric had spoken of.
But she had no idea if it was possible. Christopher might still thwart it. And even after, there was no guarantee that Ewan would want to have a real marriage with her.
His words the other day had seemed to indicate that he did, but he had been feverish with an illness that had nearly claimed his life. Perhaps he had spoken out of desperation, or fear or his impending death, or else he had said words that in wellness he never would have dreamed of.
There was no way to know. Not until Christopher was safely removed as a threat and she was able to speak to Ewan outside of the fog of illness.
She made her way upstairs to the nursery, where she found Annabelle painting with watercolors.
“Is Papa any better?” Annabelle asked, and Cassandra felt her heart break.
She had been forced to tell Annabelle these past few days that her father’s condition had not improved.
They were all afraid that if Annabelle knew the truth, she would accidentally let it slip to Christopher.
But it was a dagger through the heart every time Cassandra had to lie to the little girl.
“He is the same,” she said gently, crouching down next to her.
Annabelle’s eyes filled with tears. “Every time a grown-up comes to see me, I am afraid they are about to tell me that Papa is dead.”
Cassandra’s eyes widened in shock. “Your father is not going to die!” she said, as fervently as possible. “Where did you get such an idea?”
“From Uncle Christopher,” she said, blinking slowly. “He said that sometimes, people do not recover from sickness. And he said that Papa’s sickness was one of those.”