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“It is quite understandable,” Lord Cammish said, waving a hand. “But the King is gravely ill – mad, some say – and I do not believe that he will be able to take on the same role again.”
“You believe the King will die from his malaise.”
In answer to Phillip’s statement, both Lord Cammish and Lord Dayton nodded.
“Which is why we must carefully consider what is to be done,” Lord Dayton said quietly. “If the Prince is to become King, then he will gain nothing but the contempt of his people and will lower the standing of the monarchy throughout the rest of the established world.”
Nodding, Phillip rubbed at his mouth for a moment or two, clearly thinking hard. He wanted to give the impression that he was taking into consideration everything that had been said but also trying to ensure that he did not appear too eager to agree with them.
“What is it you think must be done?” he asked, feeling his heart quicken just a little as he looked directly at Lord Dayton. Was this the moment he would discover that there was a spy within this small group? Were Lord Dayton and Lord Cammish both involved in such a scheme? The information he had been given had not been wrong, it seemed, and with such a sense of triumph growing within his heart, Phillip could barely keep his expression from revealing what he felt.
Again, Lord Dayton and Lord Cammish shared a look. A look that said to Phillip that they were not quite certain about revealing everything to him as yet. They could not be sure of him and—that—he quite understood.
“Let me ask you something, Lord Monteforte,” Lord Cammish said quietly, leaning forward in his chair. “What would you be willing to do in order to remove the Prince from the role he currently holds?”
All the breath left Phillip’s body as he looked into Lord Cammish’s face and saw a calmness about him that did not seem to match his words—words that had basically spoken of treachery and treason. He appeared shocked, but thinking quietly to himself that this would be quite an acceptable reaction to what he had just heard. “It is a very significant question, Lord Cammish, and one that I must consider for a short while.”
Lord Dayton nodded, appearing quite pleased at Phillip’s reaction. “That is a wise answer,” he said, as Lord Cammish sat back in his chair again. “I would ask you not to speak of this to anyone else however. The other gentlemen within our small gathering do not share our views, you understand.”
“Quite,” Phillip answered, holding Lord Dayton’s gaze. “I will say nothing but merely consider what you ask.”
“Very good,” Lord Cammish answered, as Lord Dayton nodded again slowly. “Then, might I suggest, Lord Monteforte, that if you do not wish to hear anything further, you exempt yourself from the rest of our conversation.”
It took a moment for Phillip to realize what was being suggested. Awkwardly, he rose to his feet, bowing first to one gentleman and then to the next. His heart was thumping furiously against his chest, his hands a little sweaty as he began to walk towards the door, hardly daring to believe what he had heard. The realization that he had stumbled across somethi
ng significant, that he had found not only one but two gentlemen who appeared to be willing to remove the Prince from his standing as regent slammed hard into his mind, making his whole body tremble violently for a moment as he stood in the hallway, gathering his thoughts. This was of the greatest importance, and Phillip knew he would have to speak to the League just as soon as possible. They would need proof of what the gentlemen were intending – whatever it was – and that would require Phillip to agree to aid them with whatever it was they wanted to do. He would have to work slowly and would have to be careful with everything that he said or did in the hope that justice would soon be meted out to those who were working against the Crown.
“Astonishing,” he breathed, gathering himself and walking quietly down the hallway, hardly able to take in all that he had learned that evening.
Chapter Eight
“My lady?”
Olivia looked up as Betty came into the room, her hands twisting together as she looked at Olivia with frightened eyes.
“Yes, Betty?” she asked, feeling a knot of tension pull tight in her belly. “Is something wrong?”
Betty swallowed hard, her face still a little white. “It is Lady Margaret,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper as though she were too afraid to speak aloud. “She has become gravely ill.”
Olivia blinked in surprise, looking at her maid in astonishment. “Gravely ill?” she repeated, as though she suspected she had misheard her maid. “What can you mean? Only last evening she was at Lord Entington’s ball and appeared to be in excellent spirits.”
“I am aware that she behaved quite as normal last evening,” Betty said softly, “but she is now as pale as death and has not recovered consciousness.”
Olivia’s heart missed a beat. “She is unconscious?” she repeated, getting up from her chair and feeling a sense of urgency fill her. “Where is she? I must go to see her at once.” Whilst there was no great love between herself and her cousins, Olivia knew that she could not simply allow her cousin to linger in her sick bed alone. No doubt Lady Louisa would be quite fraught with anxiety and Lady Dayton would be sitting by her daughter’s side, and Olivia too would have to join them.
“Lady Dayton is afraid that such an illness is catching,” Betty said, holding out one hand to stop Olivia and betraying, for the first time, the reason for her fear. “It took Lady Margaret so quickly that she is now afraid that the rest of us might also succumb.”
Sitting back down slowly, Olivia looked into her maid’s face and felt her heart begin to pound furiously. There was no need for her maid to explain why she was afraid, for such a dreadful, swift illness might take a hold of anyone else in the house, given that they were in close proximity to Lady Margaret.
“She has asked both yourself and Lady Louisa to remain away from Lady Margaret’s rooms,” Betty finished, appearing a little less shaken now that she had told Olivia everything. “I thought it best to tell you at once, Lady Olivia.”
“I thank you,” Olivia murmured, pressing one palm lightly against her forehead as she attempted to think clearly but still felt herself overcome by shock. Her head rose sharply. “Do they think she will die?” She looked steadily at the maid, who had gone back to wringing her hands. “Betty, do they think that my cousin is close to death?”
Betty shook her head, bit her lip, and then closed her eyes. “The doctor has been sent for,” she explained. “Lady Margaret was only discovered less than an hour ago. Lady Dayton thought that she was simply tired and had chosen to stay in bed a little longer.”
“I see,” Olivia whispered, one hand over her heart as a sense of dread overtook her. “Then the doctor will see what is to be done, I am sure, but Lady Margaret did look so very pale, and I fear that she may…she might…” Betty closed her eyes tightly and shook her head, clearly unable to finish the sentence.
“I must go to her still,” Olivia said, trying to set aside her fear and do what she knew was her duty. “She should not be left alone.”
