Page 71 of An Arranged Marriage with a Mad Marquess
A noise from the hall behind her made Patrina squeak in fright and scuttle away.
“Lady Morendale?”
The voice came, not from the servants’ hallway she’d just exited, but from the main doorway.
Agatha stood there, eyeing her curiously.
“I came back to find you,” Agatha said at last. “Lord Morendale’s come round, and he’s asking for you. He’s been put in one of the spare rooms upstairs. I’m afraid he’s still weak though. Where did you go?”
Patrina swallowed thickly. “Neil is in terrible danger. It… It may already be too late to save him. They’re trying to poison him. I know it for a fact. I just overheard… they said that…”
She was gabbling, trying to calm her pounding heart, trying to formulate coherent words, but Agatha raised a hand.
“Aconitum,” she said simply. “I recognized the symptoms almost at once. That herbal remedy is made up of that herb, mixed in with others to disguise the taste and smell. Not quite successfully enough, it seems. Regular intake of the herb would cause the fits, and ultimately, death. Lord Morendale is indeed being poisoned.”
The hairs on the back of Patrina’s neck rose. “And… and are we too late to save him?” she whispered.
Agatha hesitated. “I don’t know. But either way, you had better go up to see him at once.”
