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“Evander resting midday in midweek?” She smiled. “You are a poorer liar than I gave you credit for, Verity.”
“You will watch your tone when speaking to my sister, Datura!”
At his voice, I turned to see him dressed and descending the stairs as if nothing were at all amiss.
What are you doing? I mouthed to him.
He ignored me. Slowly, I turned back around and smiled pleasantly.
“Did I not warn you never to come to my door unannounced?” he stated coldly, staring down at her. “Do we not suffer enough of you in society? Must we now return to suffering in private?”
Datura frowned, her evil eyes scanning the length of him. “I merely wished to see if you are well.”
“Quite well, in fact,” he lied, “or as well as one can be in your company. Is that all, or have you burned through your allowance?”
“If I did, would you increase it?”
“Not even if doing so would stop the sun falling out of the sky,” Evander sneered. “You have what my father allowed and nothing more. Now remove yourself from my home, or I shall have you removed.”
“Very well. I shall see you both at the queen’s garden party then—”
“You shall not.”
She paused. “I beg your pardon?”
“Invitations to the queen’s garden party were sent to the nobility and the nobility only.”
“I am Dowager—”
“You are…forgive me, for I cannot use the language I wish to before my sister. Let me say instead. You may have married my father, you may cover yourself in any number of jewels you desire, but that will not cover the situation of your birth—as the queen knows. Her invitation was clear. It was addressed to the fourth Duke of Everely and the Lady Verity. Spare us any further disgrace to our family name if you please, and stay the hell away. Now I have told you as my godmother has told you.”
The rage upon Datura’s face was no match for his words. She clenched her fist and then, like a dragon, she swallowed the fire in her, turned, and departed.
“Brother, you must return to bed.”
“One moment longer,” he said, watching until her carriage was gone. Only then did he reenter the house. Within a second, he collapsed onto the floor.
“Evander!” I screamed, grabbing hold of him. He was hot to the touch. “Help!”
“I have him, my lady,” our butler said, with a footman standing nearby.
“Take him to his rooms. Have you found that doctor?” I followed them up the stairs.
“No,” my brother grumbled even as they carried him. “I will receive no treatment except from Dr. Cunningham!”
“Dr. Cunningham is in Everely. It shall take him days from there, and by such time, you will be overcome with fever!”
“I…I…trust no one…else.” He gasped as they put him upon the bed. “The doctor may have been the one to tell her.”
“I highly doubt that she would have used the doctor to gather information and not to kill you,” I replied. He groaned, rolling onto one side. “Hurry, take off his clothes! Why did you dress so much?”
“She…would…suspect.”
“Your fever has gotten worse. I already instructed them to call the doctor again as you have been sick all morning. If he should be a spy, let him at least heal you first,” I said, turning to leave as they began to undress Evander.
Just as I stepped out, a very young-looking man with short, curly hair came up the stairs with a bag, accompanied by the maid.
“My lady, this is Dr. Darrington. He first saw His Grace,” the maid said.
