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PARTI
CHAPTER1
Miss Marilee Pelletier pulled her hood forward, both as protection from the rain and in preservation of her identity. The sun would rise in less than an hour and the shadows that now covered her features would make it impossible not to be recognized in the small town where she was as well-known as her lady.
The byway that gave access to the village had drained enough to be passable only the evening prior, and Marilee had to act fast to get a hold of the poison before the wedding. Miss Caroline Graves, both her mistress and her dearest friend, would soon be wed to the most odious man in all of England, His Grace, George Bennington, the Duke of Manchester. If anyone were to discover their plan… Marilee dared not even consider what might happen.
She gave a soft rap on the back door of the physician’s darkened home. She prayed that either he or his wife were awake at this hour. Marilee had not a moment to spare if she were to get back to Gravesend Manor before anyone noted her absence. Miss Caroline, she knew, would be pacing in her chamber as she awaited her maid’s return.
Upon her knocking, there was no answer. Marilee looked over her shoulder to ensure that no one else was about at this hour and cracked her knuckles upon the wood louder. She had just raised her fist to pound in earnest when she heard the latch on the other side click and the door swung inward to reveal the bleary-eyed Mrs. Harding.
“Is the Baron Wickham unwell?” the woman asked with immediate concern. “Or, his daughter?”
Marilee pushed into the house and closed the door at her back. “They are well,” she promised. “I need to speak with your husband.”
“Marilee, he is still abed at this hour.” Mrs. Harding reached for the door handle, but Marilee pressed herself against the frame, blocking her path. “Unless it is an emergency, he needs his rest. He only returned a few hours ago from delivering Alice Crovin’s twins. Only one survived. Poor little mite.”
Marilee’s heart sank at the news. She knew most every person in the small town of Northwick, and many of them were her friends. Alice Crovin was the local seamstress who had tried for many years to bear children without success. News that she had carried a pair had both been a blessing and a cause for concern. Multiple babes never boded well for success, especially for a woman of her years.
“I am sorry to hear that,” Marilee said in earnest. “But I must speak with your husband. Please.” Mrs. Harding was an intelligent woman who often served at her husband’s side. Her eyes narrowed, and Marilee could see that she was about to ask for an explanation. “It is a private matter, and I must beg your discretion.”
“The less I know…” Mrs. Harding nodded. Her shoulders sagged and her eyes, though only for an instant, drifted southward to Marilee’s stomach. Though her pride rebelled against it, Marilee lowered her chin in shame and allowed the woman to think that she carried an unwanted pregnancy. Such an occurrence would lose even the best lady’s maid her position, though Marilee doubted Miss Caroline would be so unkind even if it were true. Mrs. Harding would not know this.
Marilee was a maiden, but it was not unheard of for a maid to find herself in need of a tonic after a dalliance. With the duke and his men in Northwick, it would be easy enough to assume that she had found a fleeting romance with one of the guests that had been trapped on the far side of the byway for more than a fortnight. Had not already one marriage been procured from that same event? Miss Caroline would be furious if she found out that Marilee had put her own reputation on the line for her secret, but Marilee stayed the course. Miss Caroline was more than her mistress.
She was her friend. It was not as if she expected they might ever find themselves returning to Northwick again. Miss Caroline had not spoken to her father, Baron Wickham, in days. When her Lady became Duchess and they moved to the duke’s entail, she would be far from her father, but Marilee thought she would never forgive the man who had forced her into such a terrible union. It was not as if the baron and his daughter were close. Or, at least, they had not been in ages, Marilee mused. This wedding would be the final blow in the already flawed relationship.
Mrs. Harding lit the fire within the stove and set the kettle to boil before she settled Marilee into a creaking chair at the kitchen table. Then she slipped from the room to retrieve her husband and make herself scarce. Marilee found herself twisting her fingers to the point of pain while she waited. If she were not able to convince the doctor to help her, or if he did not have immediate access to whatever they needed, then the plan would be doomed to fail. In short, the plan was doomed to fail, anyway. All they could hope for was a brief reprieve.
Doctor Harding appeared a short while later. The expression on his face told Marilee that his wife had explained her assumption, and he had prepared himself for a very serious discussion with the young miss at his table.
“I’m not with child,” she said, just as he had opened his mouth to speak. Marilee did not have the luxury of prolonging this conversation any more than was necessary. Dr. Harding was a kind doctor, and she knew he was not the sort to provide such tonics lightly. She watched as his eyebrows drew together in confusion. Then, he tilted his head to the side, the only indication for her to go on with her explanation. So, it was that she began. As best she could, she explained Miss Caroline’s situation with the duke. The exchange of vows was unavoidable, but as it was the result of blackmail, the source of which Marilee did not know herself, and therefore could not explain, the women hoped that they could delay the consummation long enough to find a way to free the lady from her obligation. In doing so, there was a small hope that the marriage would be dissolved in the future.
“My Lady understands that success is not likely and she will have to provide an heir at some point,” Marilee pressed onward when the doctor began to shake his head. Of course, he would know that many unions were made unwillingly, and that did not give cause enough for the female to take such drastic measures. “You must know that we wish to cause no harm. Only to buy what little time we can. I came to you in the hope that you might have a tonic of sorts that can achieve such a goal without causing any true damage. You have my word that no harm will come to the duke and my lady has no intention of taking her own life.”
The doctor was shrewd, like his wife, but he could hear both the urgency and the honesty in Marilee’s plea.
“I’ve long been in the service of the baron and his family,” the gentleman began. “You know I would do anything to protect them. Still…” Marilee heard the words, though they remained unspoken.Still, Miss Caroline would be the wife of the duke and therefore his to demand whatever he wished, including access to her bed.
“Doctor Harding,” she begged. “You have known Miss Caroline for much of her life. If fate would have it that this is her lot, then she will accept it. But…” she stood and approached him, grabbing his hands in hers to let him feel the need. “But if there is a chance that she can be free of this monster, then we must take it.”
“The duke is not to be taken lightly,” he murmured, as if searching his memory for any hint of what he might have heard of the gentleman. “I’ve heard tales of him from my brothers in London. He is ruthless and has terrible connections. If he were to find out what you were about, his vengeance would be swift and brutal. More to you even than Miss Caroline. You must know this.”
Marilee bowed her head. Both she and Miss Caroline were well aware of the danger this enemy posed. They had spent long hours discussing any alternative to the wedding and could think of nothing else.
If Miss Caroline could get access to the duke’s possessions, a feat that would require becoming a constant presence in his multiple homes, then perhaps the evidence being used against her father could be destroyed. It was her friend’s only hope. Miss Caroline was so afraid of the duke that she had even offered to release Marilee from her position, to send her to London to work for a lady in safer circumstances, but Marilee had refused. She would stand by her friend’s side until the bitter end if that was what it took.
“We understand the risks,” she told the doctor. “That is why I am here and not the lady herself.”
“If the duke should find this tincture…” he began, his eyes pleading her not to put this danger on herself.
“I shall say that the tonic is my own,” Marilee explained. “No one need know Miss Caroline ever knew of it.”
He sighed. He could see that Marilee would not be dissuaded.
“What is it that you wish?” he asked.
“Only something to make Miss Carolineseemill without causing any real harm,” Marilee whispered. She dared not allow herself to hope that he had been convinced.
