Page 62 of Taken By the Broken Duke
But he would certainly take the word of the master of the house. Duke or not, Uncle Gilbert was master of Wetherby, and as such, had certain rights dating back to the Magna Carta.
Then, the solution hit her.
“Edith,” she said urgently, “you must get word to Lord Hemsworth at Fordham Grange. He is a magistrate and he is my friend. He will help and Aunt Margaret will not be able to deny him entry to this house!”
“I will do it, Juliet. I will write to him this morning and carry the message to the village myself. I will ask the postmaster there to dispatch it by rider to Fordham Grange, not wait for thepost coach. I have some money to pay him. But Juliet, this is important. I saw Mrs. Swift adding something to your food and to your tea. At first, I had thought it to be medicine, but the cook did not know it was being done. I believe it must be some form of drug to keep you subdued. You must not take any more food or drink from her.”
Juliet reeled at this new information. She thought back over the days in which she had been held prisoner. At the fogginess of her mind. So confused had she been that she had begun to doubt her own memories. And all this time, she was being drugged?
For what purpose?
There could be only one objective. To keep her safely out of the way so that Frances could be offered to Horatio as wife. Just as Aunt Margaret had wanted all along. Juliet was to be kept drugged so that she could not protest and then quietly sent away. Horatio would doubtless have been told lies about her and would eventually forget her. Or at least be dissuaded from marrying her. The illness would eventually claim Juliet and then it would be too late, even if Horatio found out the truth.
Juliet suddenly wished that he did not care so much about his family name. That he would just ride out to claim her and dash the scandal. She felt selfish thinking it. Selfish and sad. Horatio would never give up the reputation that's restoration meant so much to him.
“Someone is coming. Remember, do not take any refreshment except which I give you,” Edith whispered. “I will bring yousomething to eat when I am able. Father knows I often eat in my rooms so no one will think it odd. I must go!”
Juliet listened to the sound of Edith furtively leaving the anteroom. Moments later, she heard firmer footsteps coming towards her door. She scrambled to her feet but was overcome by a coughing fit and stumbled. Her legs felt like jelly and her head pounded with each convulsion of her lungs. This was the worst episode yet. The sound reached her of the door being unlocked and then opened.
“Now then, what on earth are you doing out of bed?” Mrs. Swift demanded.
She attempted to help Juliet back onto the bed but Juliet shook her off. It took a supreme effort to clamber up onto the bed alone, and then blessed relief came as she lay down.
“Are you unwell? You look very pale and I heard your coughing fit from the other side of the corridor,” Mrs. Swift said.
“Did my Aunt and Uncle not tell you of my hereditary illness?” Juliet murmured weakly.
“Illness? No, they did not,” Mrs. Swift stepped back from the bed.
“But you are a nurse and unafraid of disease. You will have seen so much of it,” Juliet muttered, feeling spiteful. She remembered the reactions of people to learning who she was, ever since shewas a child. Smiling thinly, she continued, “I am the daughter of Judith Semphill, who died of an incurable illness. Whose husband had followed her to the grave, a madman. Perhaps affected by the same illness. They shied away from us all and treated her like a leper.”
“Is this another of your fairy stories?” Mrs. Swift said, uncertainly.
“Does it seem like a fairy story?” Juliet demanded.
“I was told that I was to care for a young lady of unsound mind,” she started, taking another step back.
“Sound mind, butunsoundbody. Let us hope that I am not contagious. I cannot be sure that this ailment came from my mother at birth or was contracted from being in her prolonged company.”
“I shall speak to his lordship about this at once! In the meantime, I have brought you breakfast and tea. Be sure to eat it all.”
She brought a tray through from the other room and then hurried away. Juliet had the satisfaction of knowing that she had given the villainous Mrs. Swift a fright if nothing else.
She prayed that Edith would accomplish her mission. Prayed that Nigel would free her. Then, perhaps she could go back toHoratio and find out what had become of him. And if he still wanted to marry her.
Her final prayer was that Horatio would choose her over his family name.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Where is Hall? My butler?” Horatio asked.
He was taking luncheon in one of Ravenscourt's drawing rooms. Lady Margaret and Frances Godwin were dining with him. Frances was helping him by filling his plate from the buffet arranged on a sideboard across the room. Horatio found that the energy expended in walking from his rooms to the drawing room was sufficient to exhaust him. The medicine from Doctor Jackton was overdue and he felt shaky in body and mind.
When was the last time he had seen Hall? He could not recall clearly if it was the previous day or the previous week. He had been attended by other servants and by the Godwins. The Reverend Matthew Ainsworth was also present. But there had been no sign of Hall. Had there?
“I believe he is unwell,” Lady Margaret chimed, “and has taken to his bed. Do not concern yourself much, Your Grace. There is nothing that I and Reverend Ainsworth cannot manage in his stead.”
Horatio frowned. He had dressed himself, refusing Frances' help, the offer of which had led to her being given a dressing down by her mother. Now she held a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon for him as though she intended to feed him.
