A Momentary Marriage(41)

She shuddered with revulsion at the thought of James lying here ill the last few days, all the while breathing in the fatal poison. How could anyone be so cold-blooded?

Even worse, the would-be murderer must be here in the house. A stranger sneaking into James’s bedroom with a pan and a bottle of mercury would have been noticed. Of course, it could have been done by an earlier visitor to Grace Hill. One of Tessa’s admirers, for instance. Laura had several times seen Mr. Netherly pacing up and down the entire length of the hall, apparently lost in communion   with his muse. He could easily have slipped in and out of James’s room. But why would he—or any of Tessa’s swains—want to kill James? It would hardly endear them to Tessa.

No, the obvious killer was someone in the family.

What was she to do? How could she fight this? Laura was alone. James was too ill to be of any help, and she had no idea whom she could turn to. However awful the idea was, any of the people around her could be the very person trying to kill James. Not his mother, of course, but Tessa would be of no help in a crisis. Graeme’s home was not far away, but Tessa had said that Graeme was still in London.

No, it was up to her to protect James. Laura shivered. The house seemed dark and cavernous, looming all around her. She had never felt so small and cold. So alone.

James stirred on the bed, muttering. She pushed herself to her feet and leaned over him. He moved his head restlessly on the pillow. His black hair was damp with sweat from his intermittent fevers, and it clung to his skull, making him appear even more gaunt. A saving anger rose up in her. She was not going to let James die.

“James.” When he didn’t respond, she shook his shoulder, saying his name again. Finally his eyes opened. He blinked at her uncomprehendingly.

“James. Listen to me.”

“Laura?” The word was a mere whisper.

“Yes, it’s me. This is very important. I don’t think you have a tumor or brain fever or any of those things.”

He frowned, watching her intently, but in a puzzled way.

“Someone is trying to kill you. You have to help me.” She took one of his hands between hers. “You understand? You have to hang on. Don’t give in, no matter how hard it is. Because I’m not going to let them have you.”

In the light of the lamp his eyes flashed with silver, and his hand tightened on hers.





chapter 16


“We need to get you out of here.” Even if she removed the pan from the bed, the fumes might linger. Opening the windows to air out the room wasn’t an option in a sick man’s room. It was spring, but the nights were still cool.

James nodded and pushed himself up and out of the bed. He had to grasp the bedpost to keep from wobbling, but his face was set in an expression Laura was coming to know well. All he said was, “Where?”

“My room. It’ll be easiest.” She slipped an arm around his waist and they started forward.

Demosthenes jumped up when she opened the door. Seeing James, his tail began to wag and he pressed against him. With the mastiff on one side and Laura on the other, they walked down the hall to Laura’s bedchamber. Their progress was slow and slightly weaving, but they made it to her door without running into anything along the way.

Laura left James on the chair just inside her door, Demosthenes beside him, while she returned to his bedroom to set up the scene. She intended to keep her discovery of the poison secret. If the would-be killer realized his trick had been discovered, he might try something else or get rid of evidence. But if he thought this was a temporary move and James would return, he would simply wait. He might even be complacent enough to give himself away.

She removed the evidence of the shattered bottle, wiping up the liquid and wrapping the broken glass in the towel with the mercury, but she left the pan hanging beneath the bed. She had a moment’s pause, concerned that others might be exposed to the fumes. But if James was no longer there, no one would go to his room except for the brief time maids might come in to dust.

Next she poured a cup of water from the jug and tossed the contents onto the bed, artfully leaving the cup on its side on the covers. It would be perfectly reasonable to move James if she had clumsily spilled a drink, soaking the mattress.

Casting a last glance around the room, she repacked her medical bag and carried it and the towel containing the ruined bottle back to her own room. Dog and man were waiting patiently by the door, James leaning back against the wall, eyes closed, and Dem sitting with his great head resting on James’s lap.

James levered himself up, and they made their halting way to the bed. As she reached out with one hand to whisk down the bedcovers, James said, “Dear Laura, if you wanted me in your bed, you had only to ask.”