“I have plenty of your remedies to give me strength. Isn’t that what they’re supposed to do?”
He smiled, but the result chilled her blood. There was no joy in that smile, only machination. “How comforting for me to know you’ll take care of yourself with my remedies.” He took another step closer.
Her breathing became more erratic. Curse the purple potion. She hadn’t drunk a sip of it since that morning, but as Captain Jackson had said, her body would take a while to get rid of the poison.
Dr. Tucker stared into her eyes as if aware of her fear, as if he relished in it. “I think your decision to leave the house is too hasty. You aren’t ready.” He closed his clammy hand around her wrist. “I think you need to be taken care of in a proper clinic for a few weeks. I know one, a lovely place out of the chaos of London, immersed in nature. Plenty of rest and my constant visits will do you good.”
A clinic? She shrugged her arm free, hurting her wrist. “Leave me alone.”
Her words didn’t come out as strongly as she wanted. She sounded small and weak, and she hated that.
“But I can’t. I promised your mother I would do everything to save you. Apparently, icy baths and flagellation are the latest frontiers of medicine.”
“You mean torture.”
He seized her arm again. “Then tell Mr. Lyon you changed your mind and that you don’t want to marry him anymore.”
“Why do you care?”
“I’m afraid you don’t leave me any choice.” He gave her a yank, making her wince.
Dobkins stepped between them, seemingly coming out of nowhere. She shoved Dr. Tucker with one strong push. She towered over him, and his bad leg wasn’t in his favour.
Dr. Tucker staggered a few feet back, his beady eyes growing wide with anger.
“Lady Vivienne needs to go to her room.” Dobkins put an arm around Vivienne’s shoulders.
“I’ll come with you.” He insisted.
“Absolutely not.” Dobkins used a growling voice Vivienne had no idea she could produce.
“But see…” He fished out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “I have a formal request to escort Lady Vivienne to a clinic, signed by her mother, who is very concerned about her daughter’s health.”
“I don’t care if it’s signed by the queen. Mark!” Dobkins called the footman who arrived promptly. “Escort the doctor out immediately.”
Mark stretched out an arm towards the front door, but Dr. Tucker didn’t move.
“The countess sent for me. I won’t leave until I see her,” he said. “I’m sure she wants to know if her request to hospitalise her daughter is going as she wants.”
Vivienne shouldn’t be surprised, but the news hurt. Mother would rather see her locked up in a clinic than married and happy.
“Fair enough,” Dobkins said. “Go and see Her Ladyship. Lady Vivienne will retire now.”
Mark stopped Dr. Tucker from going upstairs. “This way, sir.”
Vivienne avoided glancing at him. The fright had robbed her of the last ounce of energy.
Dobkins helped her up the stairs, half-supporting, half-dragging her.
Vivienne panted by the time she arrived at her bedroom. “He wanted to take me away.”
“Over my dead body. Your father wouldn’t have allowed that.”
“Why can’t I breathe?”
“You’ve been taking that poison for a while, and that monster gave you a fright. I guess your body is too weak to endure too much excitement.” Dobkins shut the door and released Vivienne. “I apologise for not having understood the truth earlier. I feel like an idiot.”
Vivienne took deep breaths. “I didn’t understand it either. It’s not your fault.”
