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“I couldnevermarry you, Nick,” she said, “a solicitor. Or is it a poor apothecary who cares nothing for his own comfort, or the comfort of his wife?”
His face blanched, suddenly devoid of all emotion and she knew she had silenced him at last.
The coolness of her voice was a surprise even to herself, though his shock was not nearly so well concealed. How she managed the words, she would never know, for they were the exact opposite of what she really wanted to say. She wanted to cry out that she would and race for the door hand-in-hand. Not only for her freedom but also for a future with him. But that was not to be and in order to save his life, because shedidlove him, she would have to take the chance that he might never forgive her. That she might never be given the chance, in some distant future, to explain what had occurred this very night. A night that she would remember with both regret and relief if it meant that he would live. “Did you honestly believe that I would want anything to do with you once I had what I wanted?”
“What you wanted?” he repeated.
“First, you lied to me,” she counted off on her fingers. “But more than that, you had a wife. Do you keep her still?”
“No!” he blurted.
“Ahh, but how can I believe anything you say? Besides, you will always be poor. Lady Lydia has given me the means to lift myself out of this hovel.”
“There are horrible strings attached to that offer,” he blurted. “Do not believe her promises.”
“Lady Lydia has not promised. She has already given me what I want,” Marilee lied. “She has finally has recognized my worth.”
Again, she laughed in such a convincing manner that she could not help but feel a surge of disgust at her skill. He would hate her. She nearly hated herself except that it was only her love that allowed her to press on. “You were a means to an end, my dear Mr. Harding, nothing more.”
She paused letting the meaning of the words sink in. She knew his name. She knew he had a wife at least at one time.
“I have convinced Lady Lydia that she needs me, which means, she will pay me. I’ve gotten what I wanted, no thanks to you, and your sanctimonious do good attitude, so please,” she rolled her eyes with the exaggerated annoyance that she had seen Lady Lydia display on more than one occasion, “stop pretending that you ever thought this would continue outside of these walls. I enjoyed you, while it was necessary, to fulfill our needs.”
“Our? But whose?”
“Is it not clear?” she said. “Oh, you stupid, stupid man. I can have anyone now. And I shall. I have money. Some indebted nobleman will have me. Why should I settle for a lying, broke apothecary?”
“Marilee, this is not you,” he said. He took another sip, drinking rapidly, she suspected, to cover his discomfort and heartache. He did not wish to believe it, but Marilee could see that he was not far off. He was still confused and trying to make sense of her actions. Once the purgative took effect there would be no room for doubt.
“Lady Lydia offered me everything I have wished for these past weeks,” she said with a grin. “I shall be free to do as I please and I no longer need you. You can go away,” she made a shooing motion with her hand. “It is all sorted we don’t want you around to muddy it up.”
His eyes widened. She had saidweand, as intended, he had taken that to imply that Peggy was in agreement. “What about Peggy?” he asked. “She is your friend.”
Marilee bit her lip. She could not answer. She was afraid a sob would come up into her throat and reveal her true feelings. She walked away, and he gulped the last of his tea and then followed her. The deed was done.
* * *
“Kate,don’t do this. I love you,” he pleaded. He set his teacup down on the ledge of the window and took her hands in his own. “You love me. I know it.” He was either the best actor in all of London or his heart was truly breaking. Yet she could still see the resolve in him not to abandon her. Not because he wanted to disobey her demands but because he was convinced, rightfully so, that she was doing this against her will and yet could not comprehend what would make her do so. The moment hung on a knife’s edge and all she needed was a little push to set the knife to the hilt.
Then, it happened.
He was pleading in hushed tones for her to explain, while she resolutely refused to give him her gaze when all of a sudden, his hand flew to his mouth, and he made a strangled, gasping sound. Finally, Marilee looked up at him to see that all of the color had leeched from his skin and his forehead had begun to take on an uncomfortable sheen.
Marilee forced herself not to reveal an ounce of concern. Instead, to her everlasting shame, she pursed her lips and raised a single eyebrow in challenge. “Kindly do not be sick on the carpet,” she said coldly.
“What have you done?” he murmured all while attempting to swallow the sudden discomfort that he must be feeling in his throat and midsection.
“Whatever are you talking about?” she asked and took a long draw from her own cup.
His eyes darted to his empty teacup on the sill and then back to her face.
“Kate…” he murmured, but it was all he could manage before he bent over and clutched at his stomach.
Marilee blinked back the tears and willed her voice, one last time, to take on that cold and calculating tone.
“Lady Lydia has made me quite the offer,” she gloated. “As I said, we won’t be needing your services any longer. You will be dispatched. Permanently.”
“You wouldn’t,” he said but his voice held little of its usual certainty. He was questioning her character, questioning all that he had thought that he had come to know, and the pain in his stomach, the bile rising in his throat was overwriting everything he thought to be true.
