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CHAPTER27
Eleanor felt as if every ounce of energy she had ever possessed had been slowly wrung from her body. Even opening her eyes, felt like an enormous feat. When she finally coaxed both eyes open, Eleanor was surprised to see her mother seated at her side.
“Mother?” Eleanor said, her voice coming out in a low whisper. She could not recall the last time she had spoken and based on the excruciating pain that stung her throat, she guessed it had been several days.
“She’s here, Eleanor,” Henry said, and Eleanor slowly swung her head in search of her husband. She knew it was his voice, but she could not see him. “I’m over here, darling,” Henry continued, and he squeezed Eleanor’s left hand. She took a slow breath and then turned toward him.
It took a moment, but her eyes finally focused on him, and she smiled. “Henry,” she breathed.
“I’m so relieved to hear you say my name again,” Henry said, running his hand up and down her arm.
Her mother produced a cup of water then and held it right in front of Eleanor’s face. Eleanor placed her lips on the rim of the cup and drank gratefully. When her mother removed the cup from her field of vision, Eleanor sank back against the pillows. “Thank you. I feel much better now,” Eleanor said quietly.
Henry gave her a smile, which she could see even in her cloudy haze. “What happened?” Eleanor asked.
Henry cleared his throat, as though he meant to answer, but before he could begin speaking, Eleanor’s mother began rattling away all at once.
“First, you had a headache. Then the doctor came, and he closed off this room. He said you had a horrible fever, and I couldn’t blame you, poor thing. It was so very hot in here. Don’t you agree, Your Grace?”
“Yes, it was very hot in here,” Henry replied.
“But I don’t feel hot now,” Eleanor stated, swiveling her head very slowly, noticing that the windows were all wide open and the curtains were billowing luxuriously in the breeze.
“Well… you didn’t have a fever,” the Dowager Countess of Barrow started to explain, but then she caught herself. “Actually, you did have a fever. But that was not the source of your troubles. It seems you ingested a great deal of arsenic.”
“Arsenic?” Eleanor questioned. She might not be feeling her absolute best, but she knew she would never willingly ingest poison.
Henry nodded and then he leaned forward. “We are not sure how you got hold of the mixture… we have a number of suspicions.” Henry stopped talking and he stood and strode to the window.
“What? Who?” Eleanor asked, eager to know who would wish to poison her.
“We can’t be sure,” her mother supplied when Henry did not return to her side.
“But everything’s all better now?” Eleanor asked, looking first at her mother, and then turning hopefully to Henry.
“No,” the Dowager Countess of Barrow wailed. “Everything is not all better! You shall be fine, my dear girl, but your brother… your brother has…”
“What? What has Frederick done?” Eleanor wanted to know. She tried to pull herself up into a proper sitting position. The flurry of movement must have caught Henry’s eye because he returned to her side and began busily fluffing the pillows behind Eleanor’s head. “Was it Frederick? Did he do this to me?” Eleanor asked as it seemed the only possible solution. Frederick had always hated her, and she knew he would not hesitate to do something drastic.
“Frederick,” the Dowager Duchess clung to Eleanor’s hand. “He did not do something like this. He would never hurt you.”
Eleanor wasn’t so sure. She looked to Henry for confirmation, but she could tell, he wasn’t convinced either.
“Frederick was so worried about you, Eleanor. We all were. He will be so relieved to hear that you have recovered. We will send word at once,” Eleanor’s mother said, and then she raised her handkerchief to dab at her tears.
“Send word? Is Frederick not here anymore?” Eleanor looked from her mother to Henry. He shook his head minutely.
“Frederick and Lady Clay disappeared sometime last night. Somehow someone from Lord Clay’s household must have contacted them and let them know Lord Clay had uncovered their scheme. This morning, very early, a messenger appeared on our doorstep. He was representing Lord Clay and he said Lady Clay must be made to return home at once.”
“But Rosalin and Frederick were already gone?” Eleanor gasped.
Henry nodded.
“They’ve gone. Yes, they’ve gone,” the Dowager Duchess shook her head mournfully. “I cannot believe Frederick would do something so irresponsible. And Lady Clay—she has always been such a winning creature. I do not know what they must have been thinking.” She choked on a sob and then reached out toward Eleanor.
“Mother, I know this is all very discomforting, but take heart. Frederick is very intelligent and…”
“Frederickisvery intelligent,” the Dowager Duchess echoed the sentiment. “I would have thought he would have known better than to do something like this!” She gestured wildly around the room. Then her face fell, and she looked at Eleanor with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Please forgive me, Eleanor. I have done you an injustice. I never should have spoken so harshly to you before. I put Frederick on this pedestal, and I refused to see what was right in front of me. You must forgive me for my callous ways.”
