Page 72 of The Icy Duke Claims a Bride

Hugh took his uncle’s arm and gripped it firmly. “For now, you must keep her locked up. I suggest you find three doctors to have her certified insane as soon as possible and send her to a secure country retreat with qualified keepers capable of guarding such a dangerous woman. If I were you, I would tell Andrew that his mother was very sick and had to go away to stop her sickness from affecting others…”

Suddenly, the sound of a carriage drawing up outside the house drifted in throught the open front door.

“Christ! It’s Lord and Lady Crewett,” Edwin said. “I can’t let them in here.”

Hugh nodded and moved swiftly to intercept the elderly Lord and Lady Crewett as they alighted from their carriage, knowing them both through his grandmother. “Excuse my disheveled appearance,” he greeted with a quick bow. “I’m afraid that my aunt and my wife have both been taken seriously ill very suddenly this afternoon, and we’re now busy arranging physicians and medication. It would be unwise for you to enter this house. My uncle gives his apologies, and regrets that he was unable to send a message earlier.”

Edwin peered out anxiously at the group, his face a mask of genuine distress that backed up Hugh’s story, eliciting little sounds of sympathy from Lady Crewett.

“Think nothing of it, Your Grace,” Lord Crewett said, handing his wife back into the carriage. “Maud and I shall go to my sister’s musicale instead. We wish your ladies a speedy, full recovery.”

As their carriage pulled away, Hugh returned to the front door for one more word with his uncle.

“Whatever happens, Uncle, and whatever she says to you tonight, you must not release her. The body of evidence we’ve assembled frames you almost perfectly, and few men would believe a woman capable of such awful deeds or the level of competence with which your wife handled your legal andbusiness affairs. If she goes free, she will see you hang for her crimes.”

If it were possible for Edwin to turn any whiter, he now did. He loosened his stock and sank to the top step—a broken man. “I understand. Thank God that Andrew is at the seaside with his governess…”

Leaving his uncle at the front door, Hugh swung himself back onto his horse and rode hard for Redbridge Hall under the light of a bright gibbous moon, praying that they would not arrive too late.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“That makes perfect sense.” Dr. Vernon nodded as Hugh breathlessly relayed what he had learned about the poison. “If it’s a strong opiate, then no stimulant is too strong.”

The physician began to rifle through his bag and stack bottles and vials on the table next to the bed. Hugh looked anxiously at Catherine, who was almost as pale and still as a marble statue, her skin frighteningly cold as he touched her forehead. He put his head on her chest to reassure himself that she was still breathing and heard the slow, faint thumping of her heart.

“Prepare an ice bath,” Dr. Vernon instructed Mrs. Kaye, who was hovering in the doorway with the three dogs. “Stoke up a big fire in here, and make the strongest coffee you can. Your Grace, can I ask you to help me hold Her Grace in a sitting position so that I can get some of this tincture down her throat?”

The strong-smelling purplish tincture appeared to have no immediate effect, only staining Catherine’s lips and the front ofher dress. On the physician’s orders, Hugh chafed Catherine’s hands and called her name. When Catherine remained unconscious, Dr. Vernon packed a small amount of white powder against her gums.

Hugh thought he felt one of Catherine’s hands twitch, and he looked at the physician again. Dr. Vernon laid his head on Catherine’s stained gown to listen to her heartbeat.

“Her heart is beating a little more strongly,” he said, allowing himself a slight smile, but clearly not wanting to be too optimistic yet.

“What can I do?” Rebecca, who had been sitting silently beside the bed, lost in her thoughts, asked. “I must do something to help, or I shall go mad.”

“Rub her feet?” Hugh suggested.

Dr. Vernon nodded his permission. “Yes, do whatever you can to stimulate her circulation until the ice bath is ready.”

Pulling back the covers from Catherine’s legs, the Dowager Duchess followed Hugh’s example and chafed Catherine’s feet for some minutes as further buckets of ice were brought up from the cellars and dropped into the bath in the washroom.

“The bath is ready,” Dr. Vernon announced at last, swirling his hand in the water. “Stoke that fire up, please. We must get Her Grace warm again quickly after the ice bath.”

At the physician’s prompt, Hugh discarded his jacket and waistcoat and then removed Catherine’s dress, leaving her in her shift. He then lifted her limp form into his arms and carried her to the copper bathtub filled with blocks of ice and water.

“Now, gently lower Her Grace into the water, but only for a moment, and do not let her head go under. The purpose is to induce a cold shock response, and we do not want to chill her or get water in her lungs. Both of those things could cause more problems.”

Hugh followed Dr. Vernon’s instructions precisely, lowering Catherine into the cold water that stung his own skin through his shirt and holding her face above the water. To his delight, he heard her take a loud, gasping breath, and he quickly lifted her out of the water and carried her back to her bedroom.

Two maids were waiting with large towels by the fire and wrapped them speedily around Catherine as Hugh knelt and continued to support her on the hearthrug. The maids rubbed her wet limbs and hair as he called her name again, seeing her eyelashes flutter.

“Catherine!” he called out again. “It’s me, Hugh. Please, come back to me, Catherine. I need you.”

Catherine’s eyes opened slowly as though her eyelids were made of lead and lifting them was a tremendous effort. “Hugh…” she croaked.

“Thank God!” Hugh cried out, holding her close. “Thank God!”

“Give her the coffee now, please,” Dr. Vernon instructed, coming to kneel beside her and peering into her green eyes. “Abnormally dilated pupils, difficulty focusing… Try to drink this, Your Grace.”

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