Tiffany sank down on a stool beside the table. “I’m completely useless, Grace. I don’t even dare try to carry a tray up to the servants’ dining room for fear I should drop it.”
“Do not worry,” Grace said. “I’ll take it up. You just sit there and collect yourself. I’ll come back down and bring you a cup of tea.”
Tiffany sat and stared across the kitchen. The roast was turned away from the fire so that it would not burn. The yeast bowl emitted a warm, rich odor of hops and grain. The spit dog was lying down in his kennel. Someone had thought to relieve the beast since its services were not just then wanted. All was still. Far too still. She was the only one in the room, which was unusual, for this was a bustling, busy place at nearly any hour.
I should get up. I should do something.
But it was as if her limbs were locked in place. She stared into the smoldering embers of the big fireplace, and felt as if her whole world was going up in flames.
Chapter 31
Percival bit down on the leather strap the physician provided, and tried not to cry out as the fellow cut the knife out of his back. After what seemed a long time, but was probably a relatively short while, the fellow stepped back from the desk where Percival lay face down, his feet supported by a board laid across two chairs.
“There we are,” he said. “Good thing the knife does not seem to be rusty. It has been a while since I have seen one of these old hunting blades. Not near so nice as some of the cutlers, but they do well enough to gut a fish or a hare.”
“Or a man,” Percival grunted.
“Well, as to that,” the physician said, rinsing his hands in a bowl presented by Mrs. Twitchel, “You were in greater danger from the knot on the back of your head. It would seem that the intent was to knock you out, then stab you. Although why they chose this old thing when nearly every wall in this place is decorated with better cutlery, and you’ve a new stiletto of a letter knife on your desk, I’ve no idea.”
“What kind of knife is it?” McClellan asked.
“It is an old clasp knife,” the physician replied. “Quite the thing more than twenty years ago, before ways were found to make better knives. The case on this one is quite unique, and it is unusually large. The point is notched to make it easier to get a fishhook out of your catch’s mouth.”
“Could I look at it?” Sophie asked, looking up from where she was bundling soiled linens into a basket.
Wordlessly, the physician held it out on his palm.
“Why, that’s the knife that Tiffany keeps under her pillow. Says it belonged to her pa, or some such.”
“You must be mistaken,” Lucas put in. “Miss Tiffany isn’t big enough or strong enough to do this.”
“Maybe someone helped her,” Sophie shrugged. “How should I know? But I know that’s her knife.”
“Something’s not right,” Percival said.
“It’s the laudanum,” the physician commented. “Now that I am not actively carving on him, it will have a chance to take effect and dull the pain.”
“Clear the room, McClellan,” Percival muttered, clutching at that worthy’s sleeve. “You and Lucas stay.”
The physician packed up his kit, Mrs. Twitchel and Sophie took the bloodied rags and bucket with them, leaving only the butler and the footman.
“I don’t know why she did it,” Percival said. “I don’t even know if I believe she did it. But tell Tiffany that I forgive her, but to get out, take the knife, and go far, far away.”
Then his jumbled mind, dazed by pain and the drug, fell down into darkness.
Chapter 32
Lucas came clattering down the stairs, with Grace close upon his heels. “Tiffany, Tiffany, I think you are in trouble,” he whispered loudly as he drew near to where she sat in the kitchen.
Grace hurried to Tiffany’s other side, and put an arm around her. “Lucas, what is going on?”
“His Lordship was kind of out of his head, but just before he passed out from the physician’s pain medicine, he said for Tiffany to take her knife and to leave. He said he forgave her, but to go.”
“What?” Tiffany shook her head. “But, what about house arrest? Won’t I be in trouble?”
“Since that was Lord Northbury’s idea, I don’t think so,” Lucas said. “He sent everyone out of the room but me and Mr. McClellan, an’ his exact words were, ‘Tell Tiffany I forgive her, but she should take her knife, and go far, far away.’”
“But I didn’t do anything,” Tiffany cried, “I found him. That’s all.”
