twenty-eight
Poisoned. Samuel’s brain was stuck on that word.
Silence dropped in the sitting room for a charged moment.
“Poisoned?” Vivienne clamped a hand over her mouth.
Dobkins gasped and sat back in her chair.
Samuel’s first thought was to throttle Dr. Tucker, whoever the man was. His hope had been vindicated. Vivienne wasn’t sick and dying.
Captain Jackson selected an empty vial from his bag and compared it to the one Vivienne had given him. He repeated the process until he found a vial identical to the one with the purple liquid. “Dobkins, please take this to Mrs. Foster and ask her to fill it with blueberry juice.”
Dobkins took the vial. “Is it poison?”
“It’s belladonna, mainly, but I think Dr. Tucker gives Lady Vivienne other drugs.”
Vivienne didn’t flinch. “Isn’t belladonna frequently used in medicine?”
“In small doses, yes, but this potion isn’t meant to make you feel better.” The captain pocketed the full vial. “I’ll examine it and let you know what I find, but I don’t have any doubts.”
Vivienne leant back onto the sofa. “You don’t think Dr. Tucker made a mistake, do you?”
“Mistake, my arse. Pardon me.” The captain gestured at her. “Do you have itchy red spots similar to nettle rashes?”
“On my back.”
“You have all the signs of poisoning. I would bet Dr. Tucker asks you to take another potion, a yellow one, and to replace it with the purple one for a week or two every month.”
Her eyes widened. “Yes!”
“What’s the second potion for?” Samuel asked.
“To make sure Lady Vivienne doesn’t die.” The captain rubbed his face. “Dr. Tucker is certainly a fraud, but he knows how to use potions and poisons.”
She gasped. “Did he keep me sick all these years on purpose?”
“I’m sure at first, after the ice-skating incident, you were truly sick,” Captain Jackson said. “People who contract a severe bout of pneumonia do suffer from permanent damage to their lungs. But you aren’t one of them. I don’t believe your lungs are damaged, or that you didn’t recover from the pneumonia. Once you stop taking Dr. Tucker’s potions, all the symptoms will disappear.”
Vivienne blinked a few times. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Dobkins returned with the vial of juice and sat next to Vivienne. “Is Lady Vivienne going to be fine?”
In a flask, Captain Jackson combined a powder with a liquid he took out from his bag. “I’m optimistic. From now on, until the wedding, you’ll drink only the blueberry juice in the vial I give you. Do not take anything else Dr. Tucker gives you.” He handed her a glass with the mixture. “This is an extract from a fruit that grows in North America. A good antidote for poisons similar to belladonna.”
Vivienne’s hand trembled, spilling a few drops of the drink. Samuel held her hand and helped her sip. Anger burned his chest and the back of his throat. She’d suffered for no reason.
She drank with small sips, shaking.
He knelt next to her and caressed her cheek. “You aren’t dying,” he signed softly.
The good news soothed his anger but not his desire for justice.
Tears slid down her face, and he hugged her. The moment his arms were around her, she sobbed on his shoulder.
Dobkins cried as well, hiding her face in a handkerchief.
Captain Jackson rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s shocking. But look at the bright side. You don’t have any fatal disease.”
