Chapter 32 #2
Sadie gulped and moved to the chair the dowager indicated. Nicholas’s mother wasn’t about to interrogate her about where she’d spent last night, was she? Not over supper with other people around, certainly?
No! The angry thought pushed its way into Sadie’s awareness with the force of a shout. She was supposed to sit next to Nicholas, not at the other end of the table. Now what can we do?
Either practice or the sapphire charm allowed Sadie to follow the thought back to its origin, where Abigail silently seethed. But Abigail should be glad that Sadie wasn’t seated next to Nicholas—it meant less competition for his attention during the meal.
She hurried to take her seat and dared to push a little deeper into Abigail’s thoughts, not caring that Madeleine would notice her distraction.
I already added the potion to the wine. How can I get her to trade glasses?
The tenor of the thoughts changed, becoming darker and causing a now-familiar shuddering sensation as the vitriol poured over Sadie. No trade. Drink, death, celebrate.
Images followed the thoughts, horrible scenes of death and pain. Jane lying in what was clearly her deathbed. Helen toppling down the main staircase in the manor and breaking her neck. A heavy tome slamming into Beatrice’s temple making her crumple to the ground.
And then several came that starred Sadie herself. She clutched her stomach in pain and retched. She ran through the forest, a wolf nipping at her heels, her dress torn and blood flowing.
Sadie recognized the shuddering sensation that came with the second half of Abigail’s thoughts.
The demon, responding to Abigail. The demon, who hadn’t been in Abigail the evening before but had previously possessed Jane in an attempt to make a poison.
And Jane had gone to the brewing room last night.
The thoughts shifted again and rather than reveling in the pain and death, they seemed to have an angry and desperate edge.
Sadie saw one final image of herself. This time she sat at the dining table and sipped from her glass of wine.
An instant later, she slumped into her bowl of soup.
At her left elbow, Nicholas calmly turned away and directed his attention to Abigail on his other side.
The thoughts accompanying the image were an impatient wail. But I wanted Sadie to drink it! You promised!
It was all the confirmation Sadie needed. There was a demon, and Abigail was working with it.
“Sadie, are you all right, dear?”
She held up a hand. She couldn’t deal with Madeleine yet. Not when there was poison or a potion of some sort in one of the wine glasses. Luckily, Sadie had seen and heard enough to know it had to be at the setting of one of the two people flanking Nicholas. Abigail had one of those seats.
Helen had taken the other.
Nicholas, the demon is here with Abigail, and they put something in Helen’s wine. You need to make sure no one drinks it.
His eyes widened, and he stared at the wine glass in question. A poison? Where’d she even get a poison? Never mind, that’s not important right now.
Nicholas struck up a conversation with Helen, growing more animated with each exchange.
Within moments, he stabbed his finger through the air as if to make a point, and knocked over the glass.
A shimmering blue ward flashed into existence, saving anyone from getting splashed, and a flurry of apologies and attempts to mop up the wine and calling for a fresh glass erupted at that end of the table.
Abigail watched it all and seethed, but no one except Sadie was paying any mind to her in the furor.
And now that the threat had been neutralized, Sadie looked away before she accidentally brought attention to the woman who had decided to work with a demon to get what she wanted.
Sadie had to pretend—outwardly, at least—that everything was normal, robbing the demon of any extra chances to sow chaos and fear.
“Sorry, Madeleine,” Sadie finally answered the dowager. “I was thinking about something and needed to finish the thought before I got distracted.”
Madeleine considered Sadie, then studied her son with a speculative look in her eyes. When she turned back to Sadie, the slant of her eyebrow said clearly that they would discuss what had actually just happened when they weren’t surrounded by others at the dinner table.
Or maybe that was a hint of what Madeleine was thinking, trickling into Sadie’s awareness.
“Of course, my dear. But now that I have your attention, we have much to discuss.”
Sadie’s trepidation grew. She tried to keep her power focused on Abigail and the demon, monitoring for any more outbursts—besides the demon’s utter rage at the wine spilling—while still participating in the conversation with the dowager. “We do?”
“Of course. The month is a little more than half over. We’re running out of time to talk expectations.”
Monitoring the demon did not leave much room in Sadie’s mind for following what Madeleine was saying. “Expectations?”
“Indeed.”
Nicholas’s mother detailed her expectations, or maybe she quizzed Sadie on her own; Sadie couldn’t be sure. She managed to respond with nods at what seemed to be appropriate intervals, and at one point found herself saying, “I hadn’t thought about it.”
Overall, Sadie had no idea what she actually discussed with Madeleine. She didn’t have time to worry about the dowager’s expectations while the demon was loose. She’d deal with the fallout of not doing her job of making Nicholas want to marry one of the other women later.
After the meal ended, Madeleine didn’t suggest everyone gather in the parlor, which was both a relief and the start to a brand new worry. If Abigail and the demon weren’t with everyone else, what might they get up to? Sadie couldn’t monitor them constantly.
What she could do, however, was make sure Jane wasn’t in the brewing room alone.
I’m going with Jane, she told Nicholas as everyone made their way out of the dining room. Last night when I couldn’t sense the demon because I was focusing on Abigail, it might have possessed her. She was in the brewing room after supper and could have made whatever was in the wine tonight.
Be careful.
I would say the same to you. The demon is in Abigail currently; don’t let her get you alone.
Nicholas held the door open for her as he had each of the women, but as she walked past, his fingers brushed the back of her hand. “I’ll see you later this evening?” he asked softly.
Sadie nodded. Your room. I’ll just have to survive a conversation with Pippa first.