Michael tried to move away, to dodge the stab, but he saw he would not be fast enough and only was able to turn enough to keep the blade from his heart. Instead, she buried it into his shoulder. She drew back, intent upon trying again, her breathing labored, eyes wild, hair coming loose from its pins. Her arm was raised, the bloody knife clutched within her fingers, when the room exploded with noise and smoke. Miss Bella’s eyes widened in shock before she crumpled to the floor at his feet.
He looked toward the bed just as Jane fell back, the smoking pistol in her hand.
***
In the hours that followed, he died a thousand deaths. Each time she awakened he was reborn, over and over, hope that she would survive burgeoning in his chest. Then she would cry out in pain and eventually lose consciousness again and he would be dashed to bits, his soul howling with despair.
He wouldn’t allow her maid to attend to her, but instead instructed her to bring clean bedding, a stack of towels, and fresh, warm water. He didn’t like to move Jane. She moaned when he tried, so he asked for a pair of scissors and cut her garments away. He washed her gently, then carefully cradled her in his arms while Rose quickly removed the bedding, discarded the soiled topmost feather mattress, and spread out clean sheets. She placed the towels just so and he bent to lay Jane upon them.
Within moments, the towels were soiled, and it became clear to him they fought a losing battle.
The physician arrived and said there was little he could do, that the best thing was to give it time and keep a close watch on Jane. Two footmen had removed Bella from the room and the physician declared what he already knew, that she was dead, Jane’s bullet having pierced her heart. Michael instructed Dashing to send for the constable and the vicar, and have them wait in the library until he could attend them. He allowed the physician to bind the wounds on his arm and shoulder before he put on a clean shirt and resumed his vigil at Jane’s bedside.
The herbalist, an old woman named Dora, arrived soon after. After inspecting Jane’s teacup, saved and not rinsed due to Mrs. Dashing’s quick thinking, Dora declared it was rife with a powder long used by prostitutes to rid themselves of unwanted pregnancies. Under his watchful eye, she dosed Jane with a concoction she said would thicken her blood, and perhaps lessen the flow. She said Jane was, indeed, pregnant, but when it was done, she wouldn’t be any longer. Her prognosis was good, however, because she’d not ingested very much of the tea.
He set aside his grief over the news that she’d lost the babe and prayed constantly that God would allow her to live, that he didn’t care if they ever had a child, but he couldn’t survive without Jane.
When pressed to reveal how Miss Bella came into possession of such a powder, Dora confessed to Michael that she’d been giving it to her for years upon years, due to her repeated pregnancies, which were the result of her father’s molestation. In a small dose, it would start the process of miscarriage or labor, depending upon how far along the mother was, but if the dose was too great, it would cause severe bleeding, even hemorrhaging, and ultimately, death.
He faced the cold truth that his first three wives had not died of complications in childbirth as all had believed, but were, in fact, murdered by the vicar’s daughter, who thought herself ordained by God to become his duchess. Perhaps due to the horror of her life at the vicarage, the sequestered existence demanded by her rapist father, Miss Bella had formed her own reality, wherein he would rescue her and she would be exalted and hailed as good and worthy. Considering how her life was lived behind closed doors, was it any wonder the woman was mad?
Dora also revealed she had given the same powder to Bella’s mother. She’d married the vicar at a very young age, just fifteen, and as she matured, and after she gave birth to Bella, he evidently lost interest in her. “Mrs. Pool was a pretty woman, but prone to spinning tales. When she came to me and said she was with the child of the old Viscount Radcliffe, I didn’t believe her. She became hysterical, and said her husband would kill her if he knew she was with child, that it could not be his and he would know it. I relented and gave her the powder. She came back to me a year later, pregnant again and very angry, certain the duchess, your mother, was also expecting the viscount’s child. Mrs. Pool claimed she had once been betrothed to your father, but he cast her aside for the duchess, and now she was taking away the viscount as well. I told her she was wrong, that the duchess was a good woman, but she was convinced.” Dora shook her head, her wrinkled face filled with regret. “Would that I had not given her the powder. I’ve only just realized she most likely was not increasing, but lied to get the powder, and gave it to the duchess.”