“Have you gone mad?” Lady Weavington hissed, turning from the window and addressing the Earl. “How could you have been so stupid?”
“What would you have had me do, allow that rogue to ruin everything? Do you know what will happen if my dolt of a sister ever learns of this?” Weavington demanded, still stalking the length of the room.
“If you had not been such a cad in the first place, there would have been no need of murder!” She turned away from her husband and fell into a nearby chair, overcome with fright.
“Lower your voice, woman!” he ordered through clenched teeth, casting a nervous glance at the door in case they’d been heard. “No one has been murdered, at least not yet. Should Bellton die from this, then there is already a criminal who stands accused. It will work out, you’ll see!”
“If you are so certain, then why are you the color of a garden beet and sweating like a racehorse? It’s because you know that your latest scheme will come to no good! But do know this, dear husband,” she said, rising up from her chair and striding to the door, “should this come to light and you bring ruin on us all, I will make certain that you alone suffer for it. I will reveal all to anyone who needs listen!”
* * *
“You rang, miss?” Lloyd asked softly when he entered the room. Beatrix looked up gratefully.
“Yes, I was wondering if you might be able to help me send out these letters.” She rose from her chair beside Lord Bellton’s bed and retrieved the letters she’d left on the desk. “I know not where my father may have been taken, but one of Lord Bellton’s men offered some possibilities. The authorities must know the truth of what occurred, not just for my father’s sake, but for that of justice against that cursed Earl.”
The butler smiled, taking the letters from her. “I know precisely where these must be sent, and if it eases your mind any, Sir Williams came down from his room several hours ago. He has also written his account of what he discovered and bade me have it delivered. The stable hand was right about the location, and these will be carried to the magistrate in Chelmsford at once.”
“Oh, thank you! You’re right, it eases my mind tremendously!” Beatrix said, breathing a deep sigh. “I only hope we’re not too late to speak for my father.”
“And to prevent that horrid man from fleeing, though he may have traveled far in this time,” Lloyd agreed before dropping his voice. “Between you and me, I’ve never liked that Earl. His son is always polite and cheerful, if a bit unserious, but there’s something conniving about the father.” He straightened up and gave Beatrix a reassuring smile. “It is very late, but that’s of no matter. I’ll dispatch one of the men to carry these out right now.”
Beatrix thanked the butler and returned to the bedside. In the darkened room, the lamp’s shadows falling across Lord Bellton’s face gave him a deathly look. Feeling his forehead with her hand, Beatrix grimaced at what she perceived to be a flare of fever. She retrieved the basin of water and dabbed at his forehead with the cool cloth, just to be sure.
As she placed the dampened cloth, a low moan of pain escaped the Marquess’s dry lips. Beatrix removed her hand and waited, unsure of what she’d heard. Was he waking? For a moment, she considered sending for Sir Williams, but was loath to disturb the man if she had not heard correctly.
There was another soft moan, this time most certainly of utter discomfort. She watched Lord Bellton’s face and thought she saw a flicker of his eyelids, a wince of pain.
She hurriedly reached for the bell cord and rang, then returned to his side and waited.
“Can you hear me?” Beatrix asked softly. It was met with another soft cry. “I’ve rung for the physician, he’ll be here soon. He’ll have something for the pain.”
“No,” Lord Bellton whispered, his eyes still shut. “No more…”
Sir Williams arrived shortly after Barclay looked in on them, and Beatrix told him of the patient’s brief utterance. He grimaced but nodded thoughtfully.
“That is actually reassuring news,” Sir Williams said. “He is in his right mind after all, though badly injured, and refusing the morphine. Some people do not find its effects pleasant at all, and they would rather endure the pain. It’s a sure sign that he’s waking, so perhaps some of the herbs we requested would be better for him.”
Rather than disturbing anyone else needlessly, Beatrix nodded and hurried to prepare a tea herself. When she finally returned, Lord Bellton was able to open his eyes only briefly, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a weak attempt at a smile.
“You’re here…” he breathed, then closed his eyes once again. Sir Williams made some pretense of inspecting the contents of his bag, much removed from the bedside. Beatrix took Lord Bellton’s hands and held them tightly.
“Yes, I am. And I shall be for as long as you wish it,” she said.
Afraid that she was only imagining it, she shuddered when she felt his hands close on hers, his fingers gripping hers weakly.
“Always…” he answered, then closed his eyes again to rest.
“We must give him this tea while he is still awake,” Sir Williams said gently, wishing not to intrude.
“Of course, how silly of me,” Beatrix stammered, taking the cup the physician held out to her. She clasped the Marquess’s hand once more to wake him, then held her hand beneath his head. Sir Williams supported him on the other side as they bade him drink.
When they’d managed to feed him a healthy dose, Sir Williams inspected the sewing for any signs of infection once more, then returned to his room, the look of relief on his face encouraging Beatrix greatly. She settled into the chair once more and slept lightly, though her dreams were filled with the image of her father caged like a wild animal.
“What was that he’d been trying to inform me?” Beatrix thought, waking from another fitful bout of disturbing dreams. “And why was the Earl talking about my mother?”
In the silent darkness, Beatrix repieced the entire scene in the stable. It had all begun when the Earl mentioned her mother, demanding that her father look her in the face and speak the truth. He had not wanted to at first, but why?
“What secret has Father been hiding from me, and for how long?” she wondered, a cold chill running through her. Her shiver caused her to check on Lord Bellton again, and she was relieved to find that his skin felt of a normal temperature.
