A Lady Never Tells(69)

He looked again at the girls. “They don’t seem to be having any trouble breathing.”

“True. And their color is good.” She paused. “But how could they all—it must have been in our food tonight!”

Royce nodded. “I can think of no other way so many of us could have been drugged.”

“But who—how—”

“There must have been some dish that all the others ate that you and I did not. Or something we did not drink.”

“I had no pudding. Rose did, but I’m not sure about the others.”

“I had none of that, either. And I didn’t eat the soup.”

Mary nodded. “Nor I. I ate a spoonful or two, but the turnips made it bitter—” She stopped, her eyes widening. “Do you think it was that? Perhaps that was why the soup was bitter.”

“It’s quite possible.”

“What should we do about them?” Mary asked, turning back to her sisters.

He shrugged. “I think we will have to let them sleep.”

“I suppose so.” It made Mary uneasy to leave her sisters in this state, but she had no idea how to wake them. Nor did there seem any purpose in doing so. “I will look in on them again later.”

“We’d best check on Miss Dalrymple. Do you know which chamber is hers?”

“The one on the other side of mine.” Mary led the way down the hall and knocked on the woman’s door.

There was no answer, and she knocked again more loudly. Finally, Mary opened the door and put her head in. She could make out the chaperone’s form on the bed, and the room was filled with the sound of her stentorian snoring.

Mary sighed and closed the door. “She apparently is in the same condition.”

As they turned away, the landlord came huffing and puffing up the stairs. A voluminous dressing gown was wrapped around his ample form, and a nightcap covered his bald head.

“Sir. Miss. Is there some problem? There was a complaint about the noise, you see, though I’m sure there must be an explanation. If I could be of help to you—”

“A fellow broke into Miss Bascombe’s room and tried to abduct her sister,” Royce told him bluntly.

The man’s jaw dropped. “I … I … I beg your pardon? Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I have a large bump on my head to prove it,” Mary replied somewhat crossly.

“There is also the problem that several people in our party were drugged here tonight,” Royce added.

This statement had the effect of rendering the man speechless. His eyes bulged, and he wheezed out a few incomprehensible noises. He waved his hands in front of him as if frantically wiping something.

“No, no, I assure you,” he said at last. “Drugged? How could they be? We would never—no one in this establishment would do such a thing! I swear it.”

“It must have been put into our dinner,” Mary told him.

“No. No. Impossible. My wife herself cooked your meal. My daughters brought the trays to your parlor.”

“Then it would seem that it must have been done by one of them.” Royce took a step closer to the man, who immediately backed up, his eyes widening in alarm.

“No! No, I swear it. Why would we wish you harm? Perhaps they were not drugged. Perhaps they are merely …” He trailed off helplessly.

“We cannot awaken them. I smelled laudanum on their breath.”#p#分页标题#e#

“Perhaps they, um, took it themselves. For pain or—or they felt ill.”

“All four of them?” Royce asked skeptically. “It seems most unlikely.”

“We don’t even have any laudanum.” Mary looked the landlord in the eye. “You might not have thought it would do any harm. Just a little something to make a person sleep soundly. Perhaps someone paid you?”

“No!” The landlord’s head swung toward her, and he looked even more disturbed, if that was possible. “Never. This inn has an excellent reputation. I would never do anything to damage that. Not for any amount of money.”

“Then how did the laudanum get into the food?” Royce asked.

“Perhaps it did not happen at the inn. It was earlier.”

“We were in a closed carriage for several hours before we got here. It had to be done at supper.” Royce crossed his arms and regarded the man.

The landlord wilted, reluctantly admitting that the food, after preparation, was set on trays on the far side of the kitchen, waiting for the man’s daughters to take it up to the guests in the private dining room. So, apparently, were the pitchers of cider and milk. It had been a busy evening, and it was possible that the food had sat there for some minutes.