Page 49 of Taming a Beastly Duke
Her fingers trailed along leather-bound spines, with a strict purpose this time, rather than idle distraction. She read title after title, squinting to decipher those that were well-worn. She was unsure of what she was even looking for, and she wondered how she would know it when she found it. If she found it, that was.
She did find it, and she was surprised at herself for not thinking of it sooner. There, returned to its hiding spot was a book she knew, Charlotte’s journal. She retrieved it with trembling hands, looking around to ensure that she was alone. She was about to open it when a loose page fluttered to the carpet like a dead leaf falling from a tree.
She retrieved it with trembling hands, intending to put it back inside the book. But as she opened the journal, the haste in which it was written became apparent. The handwriting was the same, but the letter lacked the elegance of the pages between which the note had been resting. Her blood ran cold as she realized that the letter must have been written shortly before her death. She held the open journal against her as she read the letter.
I trust you remember what we discussed, so I will not waste precious time. I have spent a great deal of time shadowing the person I mentioned, and I am horrified at what I have discovered. Things seem to be far worse than I suspected, as his true nature is far more calculating than I imagined. I also know that someone else is involved. I am not certain whom, but this is a dire situation, indeed.
I must speak with you soon. I wish to meet you in the place where you and I first met. I do not feel safe; I am certain that he saw me peeking in the parlor door when he was speaking quietly with a servant. If I am wrong, then I will meet you in that place tonight. If I am right… Thomas, you must tell Marcus before it is too late.
I am grateful for your help. May God have mercy on us.
The paper shook as violently as if the duke had been holding it, Adelaide’s grip wrinkling the delicate page as shock overwhelmed her. Only two names were mentioned in the letter: Lord Thomas, and Charlotte herself. However, it was clear that someone else was under suspicion, particularly according to Charlotte’s intuition.
Adelaide closed her eyes, trying to steady her mind. At first, she believed that she did not know anyone who would have a nature that required hiding from others. As she thought about her last few encounters with someone in particular, though, the fragments of the mystery began to come together.
***
Edith wandered the upper gallery of her family’s mansion the morning after her brother’s horrific collapse to escape the burdening, stressful atmosphere. She had no intention as she walked. She merely wanted to ease her mind. She had worried for months about Marcus’s health. Now, she was struggling not to collapse with hysteria. He had seemed to be getting well for a few days. How could his condition take such a sudden turn for the worse?
As she rounded the corner near the servant’s stairwell, she heard hushed voices. There were two people talking, and both sounded familiar. She might have disappeared and waited for the secretive meeting to end. However, she heard Marcus mentioned and she was suddenly rooted to the spot. She strained to hear more, but the tones were too hushed. She managed to move herself enough to take a look around the corner. Her eyes widened, and she had to hold her breath to keep her silence.
Edwin was bent like an adult to a child over the maid, Lucy Potter. They were standing with intimate closeness, talking quietly but fervently. With the barrier of the wall’s corner removed, she noticed that Edwin’s voice sounded commanding and urgent. It was clear that he was giving her orders for something. Edith thought it was strange that Miss Potter sounded nervous.
Or is that excitement? Edith wondered as she continued watching. The maid looked up at Edwin with a kind of affection that gave Edith pause. She glanced at Edwin, whose expression was unreadable. However, his tone did not change, even as he gave her shoulder a tense, almost clinical squeeze. Was the strange behavior of Miss Potter due to her having a secret affair with Edwin? Would Edwin do such a thing? If so, why were they standing in the hall discussing Marcus?
As curious as she was concerned, Edith at last rounded the corner. Miss Potter saw her immediately, leaping away from Edwin like a startled cat. Edwin’s expression was immediately charming and warm, as if glad for Edith’s arrival.
“Cousin, how are you faring?” he asked, his concern immaculate, except in his eyes. “I know how distressing this must be. I am rather concerned for Marcus myself, though Mr. Fletcher came recommended more highly than any physician in this part of England.”
Edith nodded, glancing at the maid, who appeared to be struggling to appear casual. However, when she thought Edith was not watching, the maid glanced up at Edwin as if taking her cues from him.
“We are all worried,” she said cautiously. “However, I have no doubt that Grandmother will summon another physician before she allows Marcus to die.”
“That will not be necessary,” Edwin said, a bit too quickly. He paused, smiling again in a way that now chilled Edith’s blood. “That is, I am working closely with Mr. Fletcher on Marcus’s treatments. Though Marcus’s episodes worsened, I am confident it is largely because of the strain of attending the ball.Marcus has been too distressed of late, and he tired himself too quickly after beginning the treatments. Marcus will be as he should be in no time.”
Edith nodded once more, now unsettled by her cousin’s words. He worded his thoughts in a very odd fashion. Why did he not just say that the physician was confident that the treatments would work and that he would get well again? Why did he sound as though he intended to be cryptic? And why did he stare pointedly at the maid when he thought she was not looking?
Before anyone could say anything further, Thomas rushed up to them. His eyes were wide, and his face was pale, and Edith’s heart sank well before he spoke.
“It is Marcus,” he said breathlessly. “He has taken a terrible turn. I think…” he trailed off.
No more words were needed. Everyone understood what Thomas meant to say. Edith followed behind Thomas, barely keeping her sobs under control. Edwin vanished, but not before his face showed a calm satisfaction in place of any urgency or concern. However, she had little time to concentrate on him. If Marcus was dying, Edith needed to focus on him. She could deal with her cousin later if he was in any way responsible for what was happening to her brother.
The afternoon sun cast long, melancholic shadows across the floor as Edith witnessed the critical turn her brother’s condition had taken. His large body twisted in fever-wracked sheets, his back arching as he screamed.
“Adelaide,” he croaked. His voice was weak, but the tender way he shaped her name betrayed his usual stern demeanor. It would have been awe-inspiring to Edith if she was not certain what was happening to her brother right before her eyes. “Adelaide.”
Adelaide entered the room, along with everyone else. She rushed to his side, taking his hand and murmuring soothingly to him as tears silently streamed down her cheeks.
“I am here, darling,” she said in a voice that was far calmer than her eyes indicated she felt. “Hush now, try to relax.”
Mr. Fletcher pushed through everyone, shoving Adelaide aside and rummaging through his bag hurriedly.
“I must give him another treatment immediately,” he said, ignoring the questions of Marcus’s loved ones.
“No, please,” Adelaide begged as she looked around frantically as if for the answer to some unasked but desperate question. “You must not…”
Her protests died as the heavy tread of boots echoed in the hallway. A second later, a constable appeared in the doorway with Edwin just behind him.
