The authorities, at the suggestion of the Bow Street magistrates, had contacted his clinic in London to see if they could shed any light on what had killed the girls, or who….
So close, right in this neighbourhood. And the dates. He checked, and checked again.
No. Surely it wasn't possible…
It was a coincidence. It had to be. He wrote back and asked Dr. Herriot to find out from any of the other large free clinics around London if they had had any cases, and to warn doctors in the meantime of the deadly poisoning. He could only hope whoever was doing this either ran out of the drug, or poisoned himself first.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
A messenger at the library door a few moments later interrupted Blake's alarmed cogitations. "If you please, sir, Mrs. Davenport says it's time."
"Time?" he repeated blankly. A moment later his eyes widened. He had only just seen her yesterday…. "Time! Oh Lord, it's time!"
He ran to find Arabella. "Sarah's sent for me, my dear. I have to go," he told her hurriedly as he flung on his coat to protect him from the bitter February winds.
She ran after him. "I'm coming with you."
"Oh, no-"
"I want to. You might need me, and I admit to being, well, curious. I want to help. Please."
Blake threw one arm around her and hugged her, relieved she wanted to be with him, and had not had her head turned completely by the endless round of pleasure she had been engaged in ever since they had left London. "Thank you."
She loved the feel of his arms around her, his hard body pressing into hers. Unable to resist, she turned her head.
Before he knew it, they were kissing so passionately he grasped her around the waist and began to slide his hips against hers…
He yanked his lips away from her, his eyes wide, appalled at what he had done, yet longing to see an answering response in her gaze.
"Arabella," he groaned.
Before she could say a word, the coachman shouted through the portico that he was ready.
Blake grabbed her cloak, thrust it at her, and hoisted her into the vehicle, all business once more. They hardly dared look at each other on their trip to Brimley, shaken to the core by the ardour of each other's response.
Sarah was in full labour by the time they got there, and they had a busy ten hours with little leisure to reflect upon the kiss and what it presaged for their relationship.
Sarah was very stoic, and her husband Alexander never left her side. Her brother Jonathan and his wife Pamela were in the next room, ever at the ready should they need help.
Arabella could hear the vicar praying incessantly. She was glad of the words of comfort, for she was frightened for her new-found friend. She knew how high the mortality rate was for women in child-birth. Even if all went well with the labour and delivery, there was still the aftermath of the birth to cope with.
Once again Arabella found herself wondering about her own future as a wife and mother. The thought had frightened her when she had first contemplated it, when she had observed Blake being so solicitous of the Elthams' infant.
But if Blake loved her, he would never let anything happen to her. He was a doctor, for heaven's sake. He had saved her life ten times over the night of the coach accident. If she wasn't safe with a man who knew all about women's health, who could she be safe with?
Rosalie's accusations still stung though, even after all this time, even knowing that she was so vindictive she would say anything to damage Blake.
Love was all about trust. He had kissed her this afternoon. The raw desire that he had shown her demonstrated that he'd been lying to her all the time. Wanting only to be her guardian indeed. The feelings which had sprung to the fore at the inn were still there. Why then had he allowed her to spend so much time with other men? Why had he never spoken up?
She sighed. It was all too confusing. And not likely to be resolved at the moment.
Arabella turned her attention to the more practical matters of daily life. The Jeromes had decided to have a ball in their honour; it was rather too soon after their grievous loss, but Mr. Jerome had insisted that he wanted to introduce his new heir to all their friends, and so it had been set for tomorrow, the first of March.
It had been a little over two months since she had met Blake. Yet her feelings for him had only grown, not diminished. Perhaps tomorrow night might be the best chance she would ever have to tell him how she really felt.
She went over her wardrobe in her mind as she sat holding Sarah's other hand. She felt as if she were being selfish, but in truth she wanted to take her mind off her friend's suffering.
Sarah's face was pasty and covered in perspiration. She lifted her cool compress and bathed her brow with it, and then turned back to her niggling little concerns.