As he passed Thea, she gazed up at him, her concern showing only in her pale brown eyes, but her lips turned upward in a warm smile. “We will fix this, Liam.”
“I know.”
The footman had half rolled off his cot, semi-conscious, and Liam found the maid struggling to lift his heavy weight back into the bed. “Here, let me help.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Hefting him back into place, Liam rested the back of his hand on the man’s brow, finding it much too warm. He glanced at the maid. “Is everyone this feverish?”
“Yes. Nothing I am doing seems to help.”
“How long have you been here, caring for them?”
She gestured toward the other footman. “That is my husband, Gerald. Since he got sick, I have stayed by his side.”
Liam rubbed his cheek. “So you have been here, among them, since they all fell ill?”
The maid nodded, frowning slightly. “Yes, of course.”
“And you do not feel ill?”
“I am perfectly fine.”
A knock on the door heralded a servant with the pots of hot broth, and Liam opened it to find Jack standing well back from it and a fearful kitchen maid with a laden tray. Liam took it from her and met Jack’s eyes. “Will you send for Mr. Noonan, Jack? Ask him for herbs that combat fever and request he looks for poisons in Lord Willowdale’s medical books.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “Poison?”
“Yes, please hurry.”
Liam nudged the door closed with his boot as both Jack and the maid bolted down the hall and set the tray on a table. The maid stared at him, slack-jawed. “Poison? You think my husband was poisoned?”
“Perhaps. What is your name?”
“Anne.”
As Liam poured broth into cups, he asked, “Before Gerald fell ill, what did he eat or drink?”
Anne’s eyes shifted as she frowned, obviously pondering his question. “Let me see. He fell sick shortly after the midday meal in the servants’ hall. I believe he had ham, cheese, bread, and stewed apples.”
“Did you eat any of that?”
“No.” She shook her head firmly. “I was not very hungry and only ate some salmon.”
He handed her a cup of broth. “As you get them to drink this, ask them what they had for their meal.”
“I will.”
Taking a cup with him, he went into the bedchamber to find Thea still cooling his mother’s face with her good right hand. Mary’s eyes were closed and he thought she might be sleeping. Thea stood up, moving to the side as he stepped toward the bed. “Is she asleep?” he whispered.
“Nay, lad,” Mary answered for her, opening her eyes.
Liam put the warm cup in her hand. “Mum, I must ask you. What did you eat before you started feeling sick?”
Her brows furrowed. “Ham,” she replied, gazing at him curiously, and drank from the cup. “A wee bit ‘o bread in the hall.”
Thea stepped into his line of sight. “What are you thinking, Liam?”
He frowned. “Anne, the maid in there, has been with these people since they fell ill. She is fine. Her husband is one of the sick, and she told me he had ham, bread, cheese, and apples before he started feeling ill.”
