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For the first time Caroline knew for certain that her husband’s death had been no random accident. It was far too coincidental that the second duke should be eliminated now. She shuddered to think what her fate might have been if the marriage had been known at the time of the attack. She looked back upon the fateful evening of the robbery with fresh eyes. Not robbery, assassination. The carriage ought not to have been on that road. So how was it that the murderers had found them? She then recalled the overturned carts that had blocked the main way into the town, the safe route. Like a bell chiming in her mind, it all made sense. The carts had not collided by accident. Their carriage had been diverted with a neat ruse. The vagrants had known that the duke was impatient, that the carts had too few horses to be moved. They had offered the secondary pass as a solution, but in truth it had been nothing more than a trap. The highwaymen had lain in wait, in the darkness, on a road upon which they had no fear of discovery by a random passerby.
Caroline had another recollection from that night, a piece of the puzzle that she had never thought twice on, certain that it was irrelevant. Their attackers had asked if she were linked to the duke, not by acquaintance or happenstance. No, they had inquired specifically if either of the females might have had intimate relations with the man. She recalled them specifically asking if there was any chance that one might be carrying the duke’s child. Her hand went unbidden to her stomach, and she felt ill all at once. Had she carried an heir it would have meant her death. Had there been any chance that the duke’s line would continue through her they would have disposed of her without a thought, as they had her husband. Had her marriage been consummated, it would have been the ticket to her own demise. The duke had been hunted, and now his son was being poisoned. His line was being exterminated.
The duke had hinted on several occasions that he had many nameless, faceless enemies and she wondered who could want his entire line deleted. Perhaps now it made sense that he was so thoroughly obsessed with his heirs. Caroline wondered if Lord Edward were even safe at this moment. She could not say, nor was there anything that she could do for him at present. What she could control was the health of the present duke. She would be damned if she let one more bite of food that she had not filched herself, pass by his lips. She wanted to hurl the soup at the wall but that would not do. Mrs. Reilly and her cronies needed to believe that it had been consumed. They needed to believe that the duke was on his deathbed so that she had time to make a plan.
Caroline carried the tray into the room just as she had for every other meal. She could hear the duke and the young servant, Matthew, in the adjoining room. Her cheeks reddened when she recalled that the large bathing basin resided only on the other side of the door.
“Get ahold of yourself,” she scolded.
When the men appeared, they saw only the picture of feminine ease. Caroline was reading in her chair by the fire as if she had had no untoward thoughts about their business.
Matthew was attempting to help the duke to the bed, but he was having none of it. He walked for himself although she could see that the exertion cost him greatly. He had abandoned his nightclothes and chosen to wear britches and a linen shirt. It could not be considered fully dressed, but she wondered if he had decided to be slightly presentable on her behalf.
Rather than sink back into the bed he crossed the room and took up the chair opposite Caroline.
“I’ve brought your meal,” she said in the hope that Matthew would report that all was as suspected. “Cook said that you should finish the broth for your strength.” She made a show of bringing the tray over to the small table at the duke’s side and setting it before him.
The duke thanked her and ripped off a piece of the bread, chewing slowly. When he picked up the spoon Caroline’s heart leapt into her throat. She had just turned intending to tell Matthew that he could leave to please fetch more wood when the door clicked shut signaling his exit.
“Good heavens don’t eat that!” she cried slapping the spoon out of the duke’s hand. It went flying into the hearth with a clang.
“Beg pardon?” he said in shock. “You just told me…” He was looking at her as if she were a wild woman. At least his eyes were clear, and he seemed himself for the moment.
“I know what I said,” she snapped in a low tone so that if by chance anyone were listening at the door, they would not hear. “You cannot eat another bite. It’s been poisoned.”
Lord Robert stared at her in disbelief. She held one finger to her lips and looked over her shoulder at the door. On silent footsteps she moved to the fire and fished the spoon out of the flame with a pair of large metal wood tongs. She then dropped the silver into the washbasin where it hissed to cool.
When she returned to his side, spoon in hand, she breathed a sigh of relief. He was shocked but did not argue with her declaration. With a wave of her hand, she gestured that he should remove his elbow from where it rested on the arm of the wing-backed chair. When the space was free, she perched herself upon it so that her back was toward his lap but their heads where close enough for a whispered conversation.
“I only just overheard Mrs. Reilly and the chef discussing the additive,” she informed him. “They are both complicit but I cannot say who else in the house may know.”
“Mrs. Reilly?” he pondered the potential. Then, to Caroline’s utter relief he nodded. “Most of the staff are new since I left. She was brought in only a year ago I’m told and the chef only a few months.”
“The only one I can vouch for is Lizzy,” Caroline added. “I cannot be entirely sure but she seems innocent.”
Again, he nodded. “Her family has been with us for generations. I would think her loyal.” He made mention of Lizzy’s mother at Heatherton Hall and how the old woman had always been very kind. He looked down at the bowl of soup at his side with amazement. “Is it really poisoned?”
Caroline offered a grave nod. “I saw them add it myself although they have no idea that I was spying.”
“Then I am glad that you were,” he moved as if to place a hand on her own in thanks but thought better of it and withdrew. No, he did not remember what he had said, she realized. He was back to being proper.
Caroline pulled the satchel that she had hidden beneath the curtain of his chair and placed it in his lap.
“Eat this instead,” she instructed. “It isn’t much, but it is safe. If we can get a few good meals in you, then you should be strong enough to take charge.” She was worried that he would rush to action too soon, while he was still weak and susceptible to an attack.
He pulled out two small hand loaves, an apple, and a length of dried beef. He laughed. “This is more the sort of meal I am used to.” She had forgotten that he had spent many months aboard ships that would have needed the basic, preserved foods. “What are we to do with that? They will know if it has not been eaten.”
Caroline bit her lip and looked around the room. They could not pour it in the chamber pot for that would be discovered. Even if the maid who did so were not in league with the housekeeper, it would certainly make for a comment that might get back to someone who wished the duke dead.
While she thought she reached over and ripped a hunk of bread off for herself. Lord Robert seemed to suppress a smile, happy that she was comfortable enough to share his meal without asking. Still, she remained perched at his side. They ate in silence. The duke’s vigor seemed to be coming back. She could not say if it was the food or merely the fact that he had always functioned best under pressure, but she was glad to see his determination take hold.
“Spoon it into the fire,” he said after a few moments of staring into the flame deep in thought. “A little at a time will burn off and go undetected.” He reached for the spoon in her lap and laughed again. The sound was still weak, but she was glad to hear it.
“I never thought I’d have a maid slap something out of my hand like that,” he rumbled again. Or a Lady, Caroline thought to herself.
Instead, she shrugged and allowed herself an apologetic smile. “I acted impulsively. I did not expect it to go flying so,” she admitted. “I suppose it was a bit much.” Perhaps in her fear she had been too exuberant.
“You saved my life.” He looked up at her with a solemn expression, all joking aside. “I shall be forever in your debt.” She wondered if he would feel the same when he knew all. She supposed that would negate the debt when he realized that, despite saving his life, she was a liar. Not only that but she had been in situations with him that no Lady ought. In his bedchamber no less! Her reputation would be ruined. There was no doubt of that. She could not help the miserable groan that escaped her. Thinking she had responded to his words he put a warm hand on her forearm. “I mean it, Emily,” he repeated. “I can never thank you enough.”
