Page 96 of The Defiant One
He nodded, watching as she refreshed his beverage. She turned away to address a footman, and it was then, while she wasn't looking, that Gerald discreetly tapped a few drops of the potion into her own cup.
He had it back in his pocket before she returned her attention to him.
The footman approached. "Miss Madden — "
"Not now, Perkins."
"But Miss Madden, I must have a word with you — "
"Later, Perkins!" Irritated, she turned back to her guest. "So, as I was saying," she babbled, taking a few sips of the brew and setting the cup down in its saucer, "this is my very first Season, and Mama was determined that I should be dressed in the very finest that Madame Boulanger had to offer. She thought that I might set a new style with this particular style of sleeve. What do you think, Lord Somerfield?"
"It is charming," he said, far less enamored of her sleeve than he was of her money — which, if things went according to plan, would soon be his.
How long did it take for the damned potion to work?
Perkins was still trying to get her attention. Fed up, Miss Madden waved him away, her face pinched and annoyed. "I rather think that this sleeve will be all the rage in London this year, too. And this lovely shade of blue . . . Mama says it sets off my eyes to their best advantage, would you not agree, my lord? Do you remember when Lord Charles de Montforte's wife, Amy, made her debut last year wearing that brilliant peacock gown? And how everyone was wearing peacock after that?" She gave a twittering, grating little laugh. "Well, I was thinking that if Lady Charles could set a fashion, then so could I. In fact . . ."
She trailed off, her face going suddenly white.
"What is it, my dear?" asked Gerald, setting down his cup and feigning concern when inside, his every muscle was tensed and waiting for her to attack him and rip off his clothes. Waiting for her ferocious mama to come storming in from the room next door. Waiting for the two of them to be caught in a compromising position so that she'd have to marry him and he'd finally have his hands on a fortune.
"I . . . suddenly don't feel very well," she said faintly, her hand going to her stomacher and tiny beads of sweat breaking out on her brow.
He rose. "Here, let me assist you."
"No!"
"I insist."
But she leaped to her feet, her cheeks pasty beneath their rouge, and with a panicky look, bolted from the room.
Moments later, the formidable Mrs. Madden swept in. "Lord Somerfield," she said gravely. "I fear I must beg your forgiveness. My daughter has suddenly become quite violently ill and has taken to her bed. Perhaps you will call again tomorrow, when it is hoped she will be feeling better?"
Gerald bowed, confusion and anger warring within him. "Of course, madam. Please convey my best wishes for a full recovery to Miss Sarah."
He turned and left, the footman, Perkins, escorting him to the door and handing him his hat.
It was only after the door had shut behind him that a troubled Perkins begged a private word with his employer.
"I don't know what is wrong with Miss Sarah," said the man, unaware that the subject of his query was, at that very moment, squatting upstairs over a chamber pot while ferocious cramps purged her insides, "But I do know I saw something a few minutes ago that I tried to warn her about, something I'm thinking you ought to be aware of."
"And that is?"
"That Lord Somerfield tapped a few drops of something into her tea right before she fell ill."
"You don't say!"
"I do say. And I'll swear it on my life, ma'm, that I saw him do it."
~~~~
Eva de la Mouriére arrived in Paris later that evening and was immediately ushered into the young queen's private chambers.
"Ah, mon amie!" cried Marie Antoinette, rushing forward. "You are here at last! You have the potion, no?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," said Eva, curtseying. "I have the potion."
Or that part of it, in any case, that she was willing to part with. She had retained a good half of it in preparation for whatever the future might demand of it. But at the moment, America's future demanded it, and so Eva sacrificed part of her trophy. She stood watching with veiled triumph as the queen all but grabbed it from her hand and held it up to the light from the window, her face flushed with excitement.
