“My mother made me promise never to tell anyone beyond my Set of my twin’s crimes. Therefore, it is not commonly known. His atrocities have been attributed to a false name, an alias of his,Harlington.”
“Can you not just tell the truth now? Can you not reveal all?”
“Thereby condemning my mother to yet more suffering?”
“So if you were to die without an heir, this man would return and become the new viscount?” Maeve asked. Her belly flipped and twisted with the information, as if she were about to throw up. Silverton had lied to her. Kept her ignorant of the truth. “This is why you kept my father away from the wedding? Because he knew the truth about your twin?”
“Yes, that is why I did not wish your father to know of our union.”
The romantic, sweet bloom of affection Maeve had thought existed between the two of them started to rot and crumble. “And what brought out this confession today?”
“I received word he has committed another murder. I knew he was recently in London, but I finally know where he is located.”
“And would you have ever told me? Or would you rather have kept this a secret until your death? What happened if I did become pregnant, and the child’s uncle came after the pair of us?”
“I would never let that happen.”
“You would be dead!” Maeve shouted, and her outburst seemed to shock them both. He had brought her into a hideous situation, beyond her imagining. Only now did she truly realise how much danger she was in, and precisely what kind of fool she had been to trust him.
Silverton went to the table and drew out his medicine, taking a hasty sip. Maeve had not seen him do so for at least ten days. She had reminded him to take it, but Silverton had dismissed her concerns, saying he felt much better. Clearly, the news of his brother was motivating him to resume his medical regime. “I am taking all the precautions I can to ensure that you are safe. That is why I must leave here today. Why we must cease this—”
“Charade?”
Lowering the medicine vial back to the table, Silverton moved closer, bending at the knee as he crouched down on the floor before her. His hands took hold of hers, and he tried his best to capture her gaze. “It may have started as such, that may have been my intention, but I—”
Unable to look at him, Maeve gazed at the carpet pattern instead, feeling utterly humiliated. “It is no good pretending to feel something that was always a manipulation on your part. That—”
“No,” he croaked, his hand going to his throat, but the words did not come. He gasped as he dropped farther to the floor, pulling and yanking at Maeve’s nightdress as he landed heavily on the ground, sprawled out. He seemed to have fainted.
“My God.” Maeve leant over him, but Silverton’s eyes had rolled back in his head, and he was unconscious. Almost dead to the world, it seemed. “Fischer. Fischer!” Maeve shouted for the manservant.
The side room door fell open, and Fischer rushed in.
“Find a doctor, immediately. The first one you can locate. Please.” Fischer had been left up in London when they had gone originally to Brighton, but he had obviously brought the recent bad news and waited for Silverton to return with him.
The manservant jumped into action. “At once, my lady.” With that, he hurried from the suite. Within moments, the chamber was full of servants who helped to lift and carry Silverton onto the bed.
Watching from the sidelines, Maeve awaited the return of Fischer with the doctor. She could not bear to look at Silverton, so instead, she moved to the side table where he had left his medicine. The small, innocuous-looking little vial with its bilious grey liquid inside. She had only seen him take it once or twice during the last month and never had he had such a strong reaction to the contents. Perhaps he had taken too much of the stuff?
When the door of the suite open and Fischer entered, Maeve could not stop herself from gasping, for in Fischer’s wake was her own Dr. Copeland.
Her one-time, abandoned fiancé. Dr. Benjamin Copeland gazed around the room, then in stunned amazement at the sight of her. The contrast between the two men could not be starker. Copeland with his pale-blue eyes and sandy-coloured hair, was around Maeve’s own height, whereas laid on the bed, despite being unconscious and unwell, Silverton seemed twice the man.
The doctor stared at Maeve in shock, and it was only then she realised she was wearing just her dressing gown over her shift. Hurriedly, Dr. Copeland turned away and rushed to the bedside, his eyes firmly fixed on Silverton. How had he been the one who Fischer had found? Perhaps Benjamin had finally gotten that job in Brighton he so desperately wanted. That would explain his presence here. Although, how she was to explain hers to him was an entirely different matter.
“Betty,” Maeve said, pulling her maid closer. “Find me a dress immediately. Whatever is available.”
The maid vanished and Maeve followed her, grateful to be in a lilac day gown within the next ten minutes, her hair under a cap when she hurried back into the main chamber. When she re-entered the bedroom, it was to see Silverton on the bed, and the gaggle of groomsmen gone.
“Can you explain to me what happened?” Dr. Copeland was questioning Fischer.
“My master was with his wife when she called out for me. Here is my lady now.” Fischer indicated Maeve with a bow of his head.
Dr. Copeland turned, and his gaze swept over Maeve with a questioning look of deep confusion. The guilt at her betrayal swept through her, but Maeve knew it would need to wait.
“My husband took his medicine, although not with the care he normally does. He almost immediately collapsed, seemingly in response to the dose,” Maeve said, bringing forth the vial and handing it over to Dr. Copeland. “Can you please tell me how he is? What is his condition?”
Dr. Copeland gazed down at the vial before lifting off the stopper and sniffing the contents. He pulled a face at the smell before replacing the stopper. “Your husband was very weak when I arrived, but he already appears to be recovering.”
