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Boot thuds in the hall save me from needing to blather more, stalling until Gray comes out. The men are passing the open doorway when McCreadie seems to sense Isla and turns with a smile that lights up his eyes.
“Isla, you are home early,” he says.
Addington reverses course into the drawing room to join us. “Mrs. Ballantyne. You may wish you had not returned home quite so quickly. I fear young Mallory here has volunteered your services for a case of poisoning.”
“Poisoning?” Isla turns to me. “Is that what this is about? I am certainly happy—nay, delighted—to help, Dr. Addington.”
“Excellent. I will leave you to it.” He starts to leave and then pauses. “Oh, and my condolences on the passing of your brother-in-law. I met him once or twice, hunting. An excellent chap. Most excellent. I am sorry, and also for your sister. A nasty situation. Quite nasty.”
McCreadie lunges forward to strong-arm Addington down the hall. “Time for you to be off, sir. We do appreciate your efforts. As always, they leave us quite speechless.”
Isla turns to Gray, blinking. “Duncan?”
“Come in and sit down, Isla.”
“I’ll fetch tea,” I say, and scurry off.
TWELVE
When I bring a tea tray, McCreadie is hovering in the corner while Gray talks to Isla. I slip in, and I’m ready to leave the tray and go, but Isla motions for me to stay and McCreadie shuts the door. I sink into a chair as Gray explains while Isla sits, stunned, trying to process.
When they finish, Isla says, “I should go to Annis.”
McCreadie steps forward. “Of course. We’ll take the coach. I will accompany you.” He pulls out his pocket watch. “Does half-past give you time for whatever you need to prepare?”
“I need nothing to prepare. I am quite ready to fly to my sister’s side now. As for when I will go, that is another matter, and I fear the answer is: when she summons me. Which may be never.”
McCreadie frowns. “But if you wish to go to her…”
“I want to go. Ineedto go. Yet she will not wish me there.”
McCreadie bristles. “You are her sister, running to her side in her time of need.”
She smiles softly for him. “I appreciate the defense, Hugh, but if she does not want me there, the only person I would be helping is myself.” Isla inhales and rises. “I will ask Simon to take her a message and let her know I am at home and would love to see her. I suspect, if she answers at all, it will be to tell me that if I feel the need to be of assistance, do so with my ‘silly beakers and potions.’ That is what I shall do. Do I dare ask Dr. Addington’s findings?”
“Best not,” McCreadie murmurs. “Unless you fancy heavy drinking at eight in the morning.”
Isla sighs. “That bad, is it? Please tell me he didn’t try to say it was gastroenteritis.”
There is the briefest of pauses here, as if everyone is torn between wanting to tell Isla to take a moment to digest the news… and knowing that would be the worst possible thing to say. Yes, she’s had a shock. Yes, she may be too quick to jump into action. But you can’t tell a woman to chill and insist she deal with her emotions before taking action.
Gray nods to me, my cue to explain.
I bring the tray over, and pour her a tea. That lets me give Isla a moment to collect herself.
Once she has her tea, I settle in beside her and tell what Addington said. When I finish, she holds out her cup to McCreadie.
“Brandy, please, sir,” she says. “I fear you were quite correct. Heavy drinking is required.”
He opens a cupboard and takes out a bottle.
“I was joking,” she says.
He lifts the brandy. “So you do not want it?”
She hesitates and then holds out her cup again. “A little, along with more tea.”
She takes that and then sits back to sip the fortified brew. When she’s done, she says, “I will focus on the poison. Yes, that may not be what killed Gordon, but it would have killed him soon enough. It is almost certainly not arsenic, or at least not arsenic alone.”
