Page 78 of Blame It on the Duke

Alice approached, crossing the wooden bridge spanning a small pool of water. Hearing the sound of flapping wings, she glanced toward the ceiling. A brilliant flash of blue and red caught her eye. A popinjay flew from one branch to the next, calling a warning.

She’d better not let Kali explore the duke’s conservatory. She might come home with red and blue feathers stuck in her whiskers.

“Smell those white blooms, my dear,” called the duke.

“These?” Alice trailed her fingers along the frilly petals of a cluster of white blooms like stars in a dark green sky.

“Yes, the oncidiums.”

Alice bent forward and the delicate aroma of spiced vanilla rose to meet her.

“Aren’t they delicious?” the duke asked. “You may break off a stalk from time to time if you would like to scent your chambers. I’ve plenty to go around. Though you must only pluck those, not any others. I have some very rare blooms here.”

He seemed so much more lively today and less confused. Almost sane, in fact.

Perhaps it was as Dr. Forster had said: tending orchids was an effective treatment for the duke’s lunacy, even if he did continue to believe the flowers spoke to him.

She joined him where he stood clipping at some brown stalks shooting from a tangled mass of moss and roots.

“He was with me, you know. On my last voyage,” the duke said suddenly.

“Who was with you?”

“Nicolas. My son. Perhaps you’ve met him?”

“She’s married to him,” Berthold interjected.

The duke blinked. “Are you, my dear?”

She was. For better or for worse.

Alice nodded.

“Then perhaps he’s told you that he was with me on that fateful voyage, when my orchids began speaking to me, revealing all the secrets of life.”

Nick had spoken of his father’s last voyage in the portrait gallery. But Alice didn’t remember him mentioning that he’d been with his father on board the ship. How difficult the journey must have been for Nick. How helpless he must have felt, watching the madness overcome the duke.

“Bend down, my dear.” The duke gestured for her to lower her head. “Bend down and listen. Tell me what you hear.”

Alice placed her ear above a pink-tinged orchid bloom with four delicately pointed petals.

She heard water dripping.

The duke breathing.

She heard her own thoughts, tangled like tree roots.

You’ve made a mistake.

You should run away... before it’s too late.

“What do you hear, my dear?” the duke asked eagerly. “Are they chattering away? Have they revealed their secrets?”

“I think perhaps they are sleeping.”

“Oh.” The duke’s gray eyes saddened. “I thought they might confide in you.”

There was a commotion at the door, and Alice rose to her feet.

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