Page 73 of The Icy Duke Claims a Bride

Rebecca had brought over the cup of warm coffee, eschewing the help of the maids. She helped Catherine swallow at least a few small sips of the hot beverage.

“Hugh,” Catherine breathed, laying her head on her husband’s chest. “Hugh…”

Suddenly, happy barking sounded outside the door. Hugh thought of bringing in the dogs but remembered the doctor’s distaste and decided it could wait.

With her wet hair and soaked shift, Hugh had the feeling that he had somehow rescued his wife from drowning and held her tightly against him as though the sea might drag her back into its depths.

“More coffee,” the doctor ordered sternly, ignoring the dogs entirely. “And swallow a little of this tincture, please, Your Grace.”

This time, the bitter purplish liquid made Catherine wince as it ran down her tongue, and she managed to take a larger sip of the coffee afterward to wash the taste away.

A second dip in the ice bath had her heart beating strongly enough that Hugh could feel it as he held her close.

This time, after being rubbed dry with warm towels before the fire and dressed in a dry shift, Catherine managed to finish the coffee and sit up by herself, although still leaning against Hugh’s chest.

“What happened?” she managed to ask, her voice still very weak.

“You were poisoned,” Hugh said. “One of the maids was paid to poison you.”

“I remember… Elsie… Where is she?”

“She ran away—” Hugh began but then caught the look Mrs. Kaye and his grandmother exchanged and paused.

“Elsie is dead.” The Dowager Duchess sighed. “She drank the remainder of the poison, and the gamekeepers found her out in the woods shortly after you left for London, Hugh. We decided not to tell you until… Catherine was on the mend.”

Hugh shuddered and pulled his wife closer to him, thinking of how close he had come to losing her today, just as he had lost everyone else he had loved in the past. All because of Lady Georgina and her bloody ambitions for her husband and son.

When the physician and servants were gone, he must tell his grandmother and Catherine the full story, but right now, he wascontent simply to have his warm, breathing, conscious wife in his arms.

Despite the others’ presence in the room, Hugh kissed her lips gently and was awarded the most wonderful smile.

“How are you feeling now, Your Grace?” Dr. Vernon asked.

“Much better, but very tired,” Catherine answered. “I could sleep for a week.”

“Well, you mustn’t, I’m afraid. I want you to stay awake until dawn, when I’m confident that enough of the poison is out of your system. It kills by putting people into a sleep so deep that they cannot wake up.”

“I will talk to her until dawn,” Hugh promised. “I won’t let her sleep until it’s safe.”

“Any headache? No? That’s good. Vision problems? No? Excellent. Nausea or sickness?”

“A little, maybe, but no more than normal recently.”

“What do you mean?” the physician asked thoughtfully.

“It has been coming and going for weeks. Some mornings I am sick, but other times I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

Dr. Vernon put down the paper on which he had been scribbling with a quill. “Can I ask everyone to leave the room for a few minutes while I examine Her Grace? It’s only a precaution, but I do require privacy—Yes, including you, Your Grace, I’m afraid.”

If there hadn’t been the reassuring hint of a smile in Dr. Vernon’s eyes, Hugh might have refused to leave. If there was anything wrong, he wanted to be at Catherine’s side, but she seemed unbothered, and he did not wish to interfere with her treatment.

Hugh walked his grandmother to a window seat on a nearby landing while Catherine was being examined by Dr. Vernon. “It was Lady Georgina, not Uncle Edwin,” he said quietly after ensuring that no servants were nearby. “All of it, from start to finish, from Fitzroy and the others to poisoning Catherine. She wanted the duchy for Edwin, and ultimately for Andrew.”

Surprise, relief, and anger followed one another across the formidable old lady’s face as she took in this news, unable to speak for a few moments.

“Thank God, it wasn’t Edwin,” Hugh continued, and she nodded and let out a sigh of relief. “It wasn’t your son.”

“I never liked that woman,” Rebecca said with a grimace. “I should have trusted my instincts, and I should have listened to your father. He felt the same way and wanted us to oppose the betrothal. But I said it didn’t matter whether he and I liked her,it was Edwin who would have to live with her. What a fool I was all these years!”

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