“Belladonna.” She barely breathed out the word. “The poisonous berry.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Jarvis!” a cry went up from Alexander as he stood to his feet. A footman appeared in the doorway to the house but a second later. “Get the physician here from the village. Fast, man!”
Timothy looked down at the cup in front of him. The tea had tasted odd, unusually sweet, but he had barely thought on it. His mind was whirring too much with what he and Rebecca were discussing to have taken much notice.
“You have poisoned him.” Catherine was on her feet, reaching for Lady Esther. “You could kill him with belladonna. It is highly poisonous!” She reached out toward Lady Esther as a wild woman would, barely stopped by the Countess of Elkins who stepped in her way.
“No, this is all wrong. My daughter would not do such a thing,” the Countess was insistent, yet Lady Esther didn’t deny it.
Timothy looked down at the cup again.
Have I just swallowed something that could really kill me?
There was a sharp tug on his arm. He turned his head to Rebecca at his side, her eyes so full of fear they were practically glacial.
“You must make yourself sick.”
“What?” he asked, barely processing her words. She jumped to her feet, urging him to stand too.
“You must be sick!” she said, louder this time. “Eject it from your body before it has chance to work.”
“She is right.” George was speaking now, pushing Timothy hard in the back, trying to urge him into the house.
Timothy found Rebecca’s hand was in his and he had no desire to let it go.
“Alexander?” he called to his friend, though he still didn’t look away from her. “How poisonous is this plant?”
“How much of a sip did you take?”
“A gulp,” Timothy confessed.
“Bloody hell!” There was outcry, from so many people that Timothy couldn’t tell who was even speaking anymore. “Get that physician!”
“Timothy, you must be sick,” Rebecca said again. She at last used his Christian name, yet Timothy couldn’t celebrate. With one hand she held onto him, the other she tugged at his jacket, pulling him toward the house as fast as his uncle was shoving him in that direction. “You must get rid of the poison. Now.”
“What if it is too late?”
“Do not give up yet!” She pushed him in through the door, following him only a step before George took him from her hands.
“Rebecca?” Timothy called back to her. She let him go, with her hands outstretched in his direction. What he would do to keep her with him, to not let her go!
What if this is it? What if I cannot see her again?
“Now, Timothy! Stop dallying! Do you want to die?” George’s panicked question was enough to stir Timothy into darting action. He took off, sprinting through the house as fast as he could to find a privy. Once he was inside, he knew what he had to do. He had to find a way to be sick.
* * *
“How could you!?” Lady Esther was crying out as Rebecca stepped back onto the terrace, her hands shaking. She launched herself in Rebecca’s direction, stopped easily by Lord Herberton who pushed her away by her shoulders.
Rebecca was suddenly protected by people. A wall made of her mother and her sister went up between her and Lady Esther.
“It was meant for you! You were the one supposed to drink it.”
“Esther? What are you talking about?” One of Lady Esther’s sisters asked, shaking her head back and forth in disbelief.
“This is a dream. It has to be, some mad dream,” the Countess said, pulling at her daughter’s arm. “Tell me this is madness, Esther. Tell me you have not tried to poison Lady Rebecca.”
