“Matilda?” Anna took hold of her hand. “Are you well?”
Matilda stared down at her friend’s hand in hers. “What? Yes, I am quite well, but I cannot stay.”
It was like a candle flaring into life in a bleak, dark house, her mind snapping out of its panic, prompting her lungs to draw in air again, for if she gave in to that terror, shewouldlose the man she cherished. “I must travel to my father’s estate,” she said, seeking answers to push away the fear. “He has books in his library that will be of use. I cannot delay, not for a moment.”
“Matilda, you are scaring me,” Anna said quietly, gripping her hand tighter. “You have just been informed that your husband has been poisoned, and you are behaving as if it is a trifling cold.”
Matilda met her friend’s eyes. “I must be rational and methodical. If I… dwell on what might happen, I will do nothing, and he will die.” A juddering gasp caught her off guard. “I can save him—IthinkI can save him—but I cannot clutter my mind with emotion.”
Anna was silent for a short while, but eventually, she nodded in understanding. “My carriage is at your disposal. Would you like me to accompany you? Shall I bring my brothers in case your cousin causes trouble?”
“Your Grace?” Jenna raised a hand.
Matilda looked to her. “What is it?”
“Am I to understand that you’re not coming back to Whitecliff?” She sounded devastated.
“I am,” Matilda replied firmly, “but there is little purpose in me returning without any insight into what can help my husband. You can return ahead of me—tell everyone that Iamcoming, but I have to do something first. Something that might make the difference between me being a wife or a widow.”
Jenna trembled, hastily brushing tears away. “Of course, Your Grace. I’ll tell them all that the cavalry is riding hard to reach us.” She paused. “I trust in you, Your Grace. I know I shouldn’t say this when even the physician couldn’t do anything, but if anyone can bring him back to us, it’s you.”
Countless rebukes longed to lash from Matilda’s tongue, to chide the young woman for thinking that male physicians were somehow infallible, but she quickly found that she was not insulted.Despitethe beliefs that Jenna had been raised with, she had faith that a woman was the only one who could fix the situation.
“I will do my best,” Matilda said instead. “I will do everything in my power. I refuse to let him die, for we still have an argument to resolve.”
My friends told me never to part ways angry—they were right.She would never forgive herself if Albion died, not knowing just how much she loved him. Indeed, she would not forgivehimfor dying at all.
“Stay by Albion’s side until I can take your place,” she said to the maid though she neglected to add why it was of such importance: the poisoner was likely still at the manor, watching and waiting to make sure the poison did its terrible job. If Albion showed signs of improvement without an antidote, they might try to harm him again.
“I will,” Jenna promised, sketching a curtsy.
Matilda hesitated. “Who is with him at present?”
“The housekeeper.”
A trustworthy woman, to be sure. Indeed, if the housekeeper was the poisoner, she would not have sent Jenna to fetch Matilda.
Matilda nodded. “Very good. Do not letanyoneinto his chambers, other than yourself and the housekeeper. If anyone tries to disobey or reject these wishes, tell them that they are a command given by the Duchess of Whitecliff.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
With that, the troops set out to divide and conquer. Jenna went one way, back to the carriage that brought her to Anna’s residence. Anna and Matilda went to the stables, where Matilda intended to borrow a horse to ride the relatively short distance between this manor and Montale House. It no longer mattered that she hated horses, and they hated her. It was the quickest way, and she would learn to like it if it saved Albion’s life.
“Going riding?” Max asked, appearing at the opening to the stalls.
Matilda shook her head, anxiously waiting for the stablemaster to finish saddling a silver mare. “Going to save my husband.”
“He has been poisoned,” Anna explained, shuddering.
Max frowned. “Shall I escort you, Tilly?”
“I think you should allow him,” Anna encouraged. “For my sake, if not for yours. Your cousin has been… um… hosting extravagant parties ever since the wedding. I have heard of them though I have not attended. He might be… hesitant to aid you for many reasons.”
Matilda’s lip curled. “I do not need his assistance. I know every way in and out of that manor, and if he attempts to stop me, I shall show him the true violence of a woman’s wrath.”
“I will ride with you,” Max said gently. “Not for your sake or Anna’s but for the poor mare.”
Matilda shot him a look, but her anger was short-lived. Her rational, methodical mind took over, allowing her to see the value in having Max as an escort. If she could not control the mare or the mare bolted or threw her off, at least she would have some mode of transport to take her to where she needed to be.
