Blame It on the Duke(94)

Nick was too strong to succumb to poison.

He would wake soon.

Alice leaned back on her heels.

Today was the day her ship sailed. And she wasn’t on board.

How could she be, when Nick lay inside the house, unconscious and dreaming, growing paler every day?

Here in the humid air, with the trickling sound of water dripping from the plants and the scent of vanilla, she listened to the orchids whisper of new beginnings.

Of new adventures.

The duke lifted his head and stared straight at her. “Can you hear them, my dear?”

“Yes.” Alice’s eyes filled with tears that spilled over, streaking her cheeks. She was careful not to drop any tears on the orchid leaves.

“I can hear them,” she whispered.





Chapter 30




When a lover coming home late at night kisses his beloved who is asleep on her bed in order to show her his desire, it is called a “kiss that awakens.”

The Kama Sutra of Vātsyāyana



“Brandy,” Nick croaked.

“Oh my God.” Alice clutched his hand. “You’re awake. Nick, you’re awake! Send for Dr. Forster,” she shouted at March.

March, who had been hovering by the bedside more often than not during Nick’s illness, immediately bolted for the door.

Nick tried to sit up, but Alice laid a hand on his chest. “Don’t try to move. Lie still.”

“Alice?” His eyes drifted open. “Where am I?”

Dr. Forster had told her that it wasn’t uncommon for the delirium induced by belladonna poisoning to be accompanied by a temporary state of amnesia. He’d said Nick probably wouldn’t remember anything about what had happened.

“I’m so thirsty,” Nick said. “I need brandy.”

Alice laughed, so happy to hear his voice, even if it was a croaking shadow of its former bass rumbling. “I’ll find some brandy but I’m going to weaken it with water.”

“Water my excellent brandy?” he said. “That would be . . . a crime.”

He was still weak; she could see by the way he struggled to breathe.

She handed him a glass. “Sip this slowly.”

He obeyed her orders, taking small sips. He fell back against the pillow. “Good brandy.”

“Lear brought you another case yesterday.”

“Good man.”

“Nick, you scared me so much.” Alice squeezed his fingers. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“What did I do?”

“Do you remember going to the Yellow House?”

“No. I don’t remember . . . anything. I remembered your name, though, didn’t I? Alice, have I gone mad?”

She threaded her fingers into his fingers. “No, and you never will.”

“You can’t know that for certain.”

“I don’t have to know it. I feel it.” She brought his hand to her heart. “Here.”

“We went to the Yellow House?”

“We did. You were very anxious and I knew I never should have asked you to go. And then Coleman poisoned you with belladonna and you had a violent delirium with paroxysms. You lunged at Coleman and beat him.”

“Excellent,” Nick said with satisfaction. “At least I landed a punch.”

“Coleman’s being held on suspicion of intent to murder. So we won after all. And Mr. Stubbs has his Annie. Lear helped them book passage on a ship bound for America where they will start a new life.”

“I remember one thing.” Nick smiled. “The scent of lavender, seeping through the darkness. You sat with me, didn’t you? All day and all night.”

“I was so frightened. I didn’t know your fear of going mad ran so deep. You should have told me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to appear weak.”

“You’re not weak, Nick, you’re so strong. Any other man would have died with a dose of poison that lethal. Coleman was trying to discredit you, and perhaps if he’d administered a smaller dose, no one would have been the wiser. People would have thought you had a manic episode, triggered by visiting the asylum, but the dose he used was too strong. Enough to kill an ox, Dr. Forster said. And you survived.”

She kissed his knuckles. “I knew you would wake up.”



He wanted her to keep touching him.

Bringing their joined hands to his lips, he kissed the center of her palm, inhaling her clean, womanly scent.

Lavender. Lemon. A hint of salt spray.

A hint of adventure.

A disquieting thought gripped his throat. “Alice. How long have I been asleep?”

She smiled warily. “Five days.”

“Five days . . . but that means your ship . . . has it already sailed? What are you doing here? You have to go to India.”