Page 53 of Death at Fournier Downs
“And you gave this message to Miss Smith?”
He shook his head. “She wasn’t there, so I asked Annie to give it to her. She promised to pass it along to Ida.”
Hugh cocked his head. “Annie? Dr. Ryder’s daughter?”
“Aye.”
Hugh nudged the horse’s ribs and turned in a circle, needing to move, needing to think. Thornton’s note about Dr. Millbury and the scandal with the viscountess was still so fresh. Millbury fled London with his family in disgrace. How far had he gone?
Dust kicked up around him and Tyson. The stable hand watched him warily.
“What is it?” Tyson asked, looking green again.
Hugh drew his horse to a stop. The port wine stain. The babies.
“You aren’t in any danger, Tyson. Return to Bainbury Manor and Derry might give you back your position.”
Hugh nudged his horse’s ribs and broke into a canter, leaving the stable hand in the dust. Low Heath was only a few miles west, and with answers falling into place, the time passed quickly. The doctor’s quaint home came into view, and Hugh’s temper started to simmer. He leaped from his horse and charged up the front walk to bang upon the door. When no one answered, he slammed his fist down again, until finally, the wood fell away. The same assistant who had greeted Hugh the previous day glared up at him in admonishment.
“Where is Dr. Ryder?” he asked before she could speak.
Movement in the hall drew Hugh’s attention. Ryder came into the foyer, wearing his coat and hat, and carrying his leather doctor’s satchel. “What is this commotion? Officer, what is the matter?”
As Hugh edged past the nurse, the doctor’s eyes rounded in alarm. He had seen something in Hugh’s expression, for he took a step back and stammered to his nurse that all was well, and would the officer like to speak privately?
Hugh stalked the man into his cluttered office and shut the door behind them.
“Your name is not Ryder,” he said immediately. The doctor set his leather bag onto the desk before meeting Hugh’s direct stare.
“Officer, I can explain.”
“No need. I already know,Dr. Millbury.”
He removed his spectacles, his hand shaking. “You must understand, I had no choice—”
“I don’t care what happened in London. I don’t care that you’re a coward and wouldn’t fight the man whose wife you seduced. All I care about, doctor, is what happenedhere, in Hertfordshire.”
Millbury put his spectacles back on and stared at Hugh, as if perplexed. “How do you mean?”
Hugh surged forward and crowded the doctor against the desk. “You might have changed your name and started fresh here, but you haven’t changed your ways at all, have you? This is what I think happened: Low Heath’s newest doctor was a charmer, handsome, and found himself welcomed into fine homes, trusted by bored or unhappy ladies of quality—just like the viscountess and who knows how many others in London.”
Millbury shook his head and flapped his lips to rebut the accusation, but Hugh cut him off.
“You seduced both Countesses of Bainbury—MaryandCharlotte—and when they became pregnant, you panicked. You couldn’t have what happened with the viscountess repeat itself here.”
A child, born with the same unmistakable and visible birthmark as Ryder.
“No, no, no,” the doctor stammered, his head shaking violently. “That isn’t what happened! I heal people—I don’t hurt them. I would never hurt anyone!”
On his ride just now to Low Heath, Hugh had considered Mary and how she had died. A bullet to the head. Had the doctor broken her heart? Or perhaps he’d told her the baby would be born with the same marking and she panicked.
“You were forced to give up your life in London. You gave up your very name. Faced with the same consequences playing out again here, you went against your nature and did what had to be done to protect your secret.”
Millbury squeezed his eyes shut and fisted his hands, placing them against his forehead. “No,no! I swear to you, officer. Yes, I made a mistake with the viscountess. I shamed myself and my family, and my wife…” He shook his head and nearly whimpered. “She took our children and left. She left me. I haven’t seen her, or little Nadia or Joseph, in five years.”
Hugh frowned as the man held back a sob. “But Annie stayed with you?”
The doctor unclenched his fists and lowered them, blinking at Hugh. “Annie? Oh. Yes, Annie. She…she isn’t my daughter, you see; she is my sister, Andrea. We thought, with our age difference, we could assist our new identities if I was a widower and she, my child. But I promised her, nothing like what happened with the viscountess would happen here, and I’ve kept my word.”
