Page 52 of Lady Edith and the Registry Office
Louisa snorted softly but did not speak.
During the carriage ride back to Hanover Square, her father and Louisa complained of stomach discomfort. When their party reached the townhouse, they fled to their bedchambers in search of privacy to cast up their accounts.
* * * * *
Edith hadn’t lookedwell when she exited the ballroom, Louisa close behind her.
“Don’t eat anything else,” he said to Alicia firmly.
His sister frowned. “Nathaniel?”
He looked about the room at the other guests. Several were looking green about the gills. The culprit must be the food or drink.
“I think something is wrong with the supper.”
Alicia dropped her fork against her plate with a clatter. She had ingested the asparagus and green beans thus far. His sister loved vegetables.
“We should go.” He rose to his feet and took Alicia’s arm.
They made their way out of the ballroom and into the drawing room to say goodnight to their hostess. As they did so, he heard other guests complaining about stomach pains. Once outside in the fresh air, he let out a breath. He hadn’t eaten anything, but he did have some port.
“Nathaniel, I feel queasy.” Alicia’s face looked pale and drawn.
His carriage arrived in front of the steps to the house, and he lifted his sister into the coach. Once inside, he tapped his cane on the roof. When Nathaniel entered the mansion in Grosvenor Square, he directed a footman to fetch his private physician.
“It may be some time before the doctor can see you,” the servant informed him. “We already had word that Doctor Leeds is treating several patients in the square this evening.”
Although he felt no worse for wear, Nathaniel had cook send up a tincture for Alicia, who complained of stomach pains. Alicia pleaded with him not to attend her as she had started to retch and did not wish him to be a witness to her distress.
His thoughts strayed to Edith. He imagined she was also ill after her rapid exit from the ballroom.
Lady Sandhurst would be appalled that her supper had sickened so many people. The story would be in the papers in the morning, a narrative that would distract society from any reports of missing veterans.
As his valet helped him into his nightclothes, a missive arrived from Ashford.
Ashford House. In the morning.
Excellent. The men could discuss what each had learned about the missing veterans and how to proceed with their investigation. Tomorrow was Sunday. The registry office would remain closed for another week. They had to find out what was happening to their veterans. And soon.
