AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Roxanne can only break you if you allow her to,” she said before she left. “You are not the only one bearing wounds here, and you can either use them to gain strength as you have done with your father’s words, or you can cower behind them."
Albert's fist came down hard on his table after she had left. Every damned word she had said was true. He cursed again, then went to find Steven. He found him sitting by himself in the game rooms. "Race me," he requested.
"Why are you challenging me to a horse race?" Steven regarded him carefully. “You look like you have not slept in weeks.”
"Are you going to race me or not?"
“Well, I could use the distraction.” They donned their gear, and Albert had two thoroughbreds saddled for them. After mounting, he waited for a grumbling Steven to follow suit before taking off, tearing across the fields as though he could find salvation in the speed. Soon, Steven was lost to him.
He pushed his horse, oblivious to all but his pain and the air that burned down his lungs. When he spurred his mount again, the horse gave a wild neigh before darting to the side and turning around before stopping. Albert tried to regain his control, but the horse would not yield. It was in this struggle that Steven finally caught up with him, panting.
"Do you have a death wish, Rowan?" he shouted. Steven only called him Rowan when he was angry. "What the bloody hell do you think you are doing pushing that horse like that? You should thank God he did not throw you off!"
"What do you want me to do?" Albert bristled. "Nothing I do is good enough. Nothing I am doing is changing anything!"
"You should not kill yourself, for a start,” Steven said in a calmer tone. “You do not need to change anything. You told me to accept. Take your own advice. If you love her, show her.”
“She does not feel—”
“Perhaps you misunderstand her feelings.”
Hoof beats turned their heads, and they spied a rider in the distance. He jerked to a stop before them. "Your Grace, you are requested back at the Mansion at once. The Duchess was found unconscious. They have just sent for—”
Albert heard no more, for he was galloping back toward the Mansion again.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
When the doctor informed him that his wife had been poisoned, Albert's world further fell apart. In the last conversation he had with Edwina yesterday morning, he had accused her of something he did not have proof of.
He had refused to listen to her. Now he was staring at her unconscious form on the bed, her life hanging on a thread because of him. He had done this to her.
"There is not much I can do, Your Grace. It is belladonna," Dr. Palmer said gravely. "We must wait for her body to fight it now.” A horrified Miss Mathews let out a pained whimper. She was standing with her mother in a corner. A rueful Lord Mercer also stood a few feet from them.
"Albert," Elaine put a hand on his arm. "She shall be all right," she tried to reassure him.
"I have given Mrs. Edlund all necessary instructions. I shall return this evening." Dr. Palmer picked up his bag and bowed. "Oh, and the room should be emptied, Your Grace. Ventilation is necessary for her recovery."
As Elaine and Lady Mathews saw to the Doctor’s last instruction of having fewer people in the room, Albert turned to Chessman at the door. "Find the Dowager Viscountess Mercer and send her to my study immediately," he instructed.
"At once, Your Grace." Albert had begun investigating the poisoning as soon as he had been informed the day before. He could not think of anyone with a motive to harm Edwina but her stepmother. He knew Roxanne, and her bark was worse than her bite. She would not go so far as to make an attempt at someone's life. John could not do it either.
Albert kissed Edwina’s hand before marching to his study to meet the Dowager.She swept into his study with her usual air of arrogance. She had not even bothered to visit Edwina since she had taken ill, and that fueled his suspicions.
"Why did you do it?" Albert asked her without preamble. His anger was at a level he never thought was attainable until now.
"Do what, Your Grace?" she asked, seeming surprised.
"You did not visit her," he bit out. "You cannot even pretend to care, can you?”
"Goodness!" She opened that confounded fan and began to fan herself. "Are you in the habit of always going about in circles before making your point, Your Grace?"
"I am in the habit of getting to the root of injustice in my Mansion," he replied.
"It is a pity what happened to your wife. My condolences, Your Grace."
"She isnotdead!" Albert exclaimed angrily.
"Well, I heard the Doctor said there is nothing he can do."
