I thought for a moment and then shook my head.
"No, no, I didn't. Why?"
He looked off into the dark woods for a minute, then turned to me.
"After interviewing some of the maids after your, er—husband left, they were most insistent the only thing Mariam took from the table was the remains of your tea."
"My—tea? But why should that make her sick?"
"Deliverance, you signed on my palm for help?” he asked, not answering my question. “Why?”
I hesitated, and replied with a question of my own. “Tell me, do you know if men dislike virgins? Are repulsed by them? Horrified?”
Bartholomew seemed startled, and a little flush rose on his cheeks.
“It is my—understanding that it is—mostly—a desirable quality to a man. Please excuse my bluntness.”
Hell and godsdamn it! Gideon had taken advantage of my innocence and naivete to perpetrate a depraved deception. And I had fallen for it.
“My husband, he–is not a good man,” I said. “I want to escape him, but I cannot figure out how to. And I-I’m pregnant.”
Bartholomew looked at me for a moment, then said.
“Your tea was poisoned. I was able to get close enough to sniff the contents of what remained in your cup, and I recognized the scent of a powerful poison.”
"But—why should there be poison in my drink?" I cried. “Surely you must be mistaken!”
Bartholomew looked sad.
“In my training as a priest, I often aided an apothecary, so I don’t think I am mistaken. I wish I was.”
“An accident of some kind?”
"It may be an accident," Bartholomew said. "But?—"
He stopped. Mariam—poisoned! It seemed unbelievable!
"How did anyone even know how to get a hold of such a thing?" I ran on.
The monk hesitated for a moment and then said, "Perhaps it is not fit that I should speak, but I must tell you that your husband is a—well-known purveyor of poisons."
"Ofpoisons?" I cried, stupefied. "You must be mistaken, or—maybe this is a cruel joke!"
"It is no joke," he said. "And I never would have spoken such a thing to you if I wasn't worried, Deliverance, for your safety."
My name in his gentle voice almost brought tears to my eyes.
"Who—does he poison?" I asked indignantly.
"Anyone who has the means to buy one of his concoctions may take it and use however they choose. An inconvenient father who hangs on to life too long when a son is in debt. A husband who stands in the way of a wife marrying another man. . ."
That blonde woman!I thought instantly. I had assumed she was a secret lover, but she was likely just another customer.
"I am sorry to bring you distress,” Bartholomew went on as I began to pace back and forth. “I wanted to caution you to be careful. Perhaps after all Mariam was the target. Perhaps she knew too many secrets. She must see all the people who come to Gideon for their poisons."
But I did not think so.Someone at Grayspires Manor wanted me dead.
Was it Gideon, to clear the way to marry his mistress? Was his care for our baby just a ruse? Or was it Ada, out of jealousy for any attention Gideon gave me, or the fact that my husband was visiting my room now more than ever. . .
