Page 45 of Taming a Beastly Duke
She also thought about Miss Potter and her strange behavior near Marcus. As she fled the breakfast room, she saw Mr. Fletcher enter the mansion, rather quickly to have been summoned such a short time before. Following right behind him had been Lucy Potter, watching closely as the physician dug through his medical bag and began retrieving items.
Adelaide knew she would be hovering when the physician administered another treatment to Marcus. What Adelaide could not understand was why the physician allowed her in the room. Were they not supposed to send away everyone else when examining or treating a patient to preserve his or her modesty? Adelaide could make no sense of it, but she was sure the maid’s behavior was something more than a servant merely being anxious about her master’s well-being.
“Miss Barrett?” said a baritone voice from the doorway.
Adelaide yelped, so lost in her thoughts that she had not heard anyone approach.
“Lord Thomas,” she breathed with a nervous, dry giggle. “How is he?”
Lord Thomas shook his head with dark circles shadowing his eyes.
“I am uncertain,” he said. “The physician is still with him. He was unconscious when we got him to his chambers, though.”
Adelaide nodded, biting her lip.
“It is so strange how much better he felt yesterday,” she said. She was unsure how to broach her suspicions, especially since they pointed to nothing definitive. However, she was desperate for answers, and she needed to hope that his closest friend might be able to offer a few.
Lord Thomas nodded; his concern evident in the furrow of his brow.
“It is,” he said. “I am concerned about this Mr. Fletcher and his so-called treatments.”
Adelaide’s heart stopped, thinking of her own perceived correlation between Marcus’s worst episodes and the treatments he received from his new physician.
“I thought I was going mad,” she muttered softly.
Lord Thomas raised an eyebrow.
“Why?” he asked.
Adelaide sighed, shaking her head.
“It seems to me that he gets sicker after Mr. Fletcher administers one of these treatments,” she said. “He was better when he remained in his chambers for a few days. Now, he is more ill than he has been thus far.”
Lord Thomas nodded, his brow returning to its wrinkled furrow.
“I cannot say for sure, but I believe that Mr. Fletcher was here to give him a treatment early this morning,” he said.
Adelaide’s blood ran cold. She recalled how Marcus had slipped out of the library before she did. Had he gone to meet the physician for treatment?
“Mr. Fletcher was here rather quickly this morning,” she said.
Thomas nodded, opening his mouth to speak again. However, before he could, there was a noise outside the doorway. They turned to find Miss Potter watching them with an expression resembling fear and guilt.
Lord Thomas and Adelaide stopped speaking, watching the maid carefully. She dropped her gaze, hurrying away with poorly concealed urgency. Lord Thomas looked at Adelaide, his troubled expression suggesting what he seemed now justifiably unwilling to say. He shared Adelaide’s growing suspicions about the coincidental timing of the incidents surrounding Marcus and his declining health. From the way he stared after the maid with pursed lips, Adelaide suspected he was growing wary of her, as well.
Once Lord Thomas departed, Adelaide stepped into the gardens. She was so distraught that all she could think to do was pick a handful of lavender flowers. It was hardly enough to help her lover in his terrible state. However, it made her feel less anxious, and the scent of the gardens gave her great comfort. Perhaps, if she could do nothing else, she could offer the same comfort to Marcus, as well, even if she had to deliver them through a servant.
When she returned inside the manor later that afternoon, she went to Marcus’s room, only to find it empty. Her hopes rose and a faint smile touched her lips. If his bed was vacant, perhaps that meant that Marcus was feelingbetter and moving about the mansion. She abandoned the flowers on a table in his chambers, racing down the stairs and going first to Marcus’s study and then the parlor, both of which were empty. She paused to catch her breath, deciding to return to the library.
The door was open when she reached it, so she rushed inside. The smell of fresh spice greeted her, so she looked around the room, eagerly expecting to see her lover standing, or sitting, somewhere in the room. When she found him, however, her heart was far from joyful. He lay in a crumpled heap on the floor in the far corner of the room.
“Marcus,” she screamed, shaking him firmly.
He did not respond, his hand falling limply with a loud thud when she lifted it to her cheek. The sight of the imposing, fierce man she knew and loved now so vulnerable and reduced to utter helplessness shattered Adelaide’s world. She sobbed quietly, listening for signs of a heartbeat or breathing rhythm.
“Miss Barrett, allow me,” Mr. Fletcher said, suddenly appearing in the room.
Adelaide moved back numbly, vaguely aware of the oddness of the physician’s timing. How had he known about Marcus’s collapse when she had not yet had time to call for help? Had he heard her scream his name? That was unlikely, as she would have seen him if he was near the library when she entered.
