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“Especially for traveling?”
“Yes.”
“What about when Mrs. Farraline is at home?”
“It still comes from the apothecary separately, sir. It has to be very exact, or it could be”—she swallowed hard—“fatal, sir. But we have to add the liquid to make it palatable—at least …”
“I see, yes, that is quite clear. And this was a new supply, a full dozen vials for Mrs. Farraline to travel with?”
“Aye sir. If she were gone more than six days then it would be simple enough to get an apothecary in London to provide more.”
“A very practical arrangement. She took the prescription with her, of course?”
“Aye, sir.”
“So there was no anxiety if she ran out?”
“N-no …”
Gilfeather stirred restlessly in his seat. He was impatient, and had his adversary been a lesser man, he would have dismissed the line of questioning as time-wasting.
“Mr. Argyll,” the judge said irritably, “have you some purpose in mind? If you have, it is more than time you arrived at it.”
“Yes, my lord,” Argyll said smoothly. He turned back to the witness stand. “Miss McDermot, would it have mattered had you been a little hasty in your care for Mrs. Farraline and, instead of sending her off with a full complement of vials, used one to give her her morning dose on the day she traveled, rather than make one up. I simply ask if it would have mattered, not if you did so.”
She stared at him as if she had suddenly seen a snake.
“Miss McDermot?”
“You must answer,” the judge informed her.
She swallowed. “N-no. No sir, it would not really have mattered.”
“It would not have placed her in any danger?”
“No sir. None at all.”
“I see.” He smiled at her as if he were totally satisfied with the answer. “Thank you, Miss McDermot. That is all.”
Gilfeather rose rapidly. There was a stir of excitement around the room like a ripple of wind through a cornfield. Gilfeather opened his mouth.
Miss McDermot stared at him.
Gilfeather looked at Argyll.
Argyll’s smile did not change in the slightest.
Rathbone sat with his hands clenched so hard his nails scarred his palms. Would Gilfeather dare to ask if she had used the first vial? If she admitted it, his case was damaged, severely damaged. Rathbone held his breath.
Gilfeather did not dare. She might have used it. She might not have the nerve to deny it on oath. He sat down again.
There was a sigh of breath around the room, a rustle of fabric as everyone relaxed, disappointed. One juror swore under his breath, mouthing the words.
/> Miss McDermot had to be assisted at the bottom of the steps when she stumbled in sheer unbearable relief.
Argyll’s lips still curved in the same smile.
Rathbone offered up a prayer of thanks.
