* * * * *
Katherine's patient recovered quickly from his poisoning, and the next morning Miranda found him in the library with Hero. Her sister was reading in a clear and steady voice. Arthur sat with his eyes closed, an expression of bliss on his narrow features.
Miranda waited for Hero to come to the end of a line. "Good morning. How are you feeling?" She shot a troubled look at her sister. Did she not realize that Arthur was included in the category of men she should be careful not to allow herself to be alone with? Or had she so quickly come to think of him as family, though he was not?
Hero flushed guiltily as she hastily marked her place in the book and sat it on the table next to her chair. Arthur himself sat ramrod stiff upon the sofa, his color higher than that on Hero's cheeks.
"Good morning, Miranda. I was just keeping Arthur company. He did not feel like taking breakfast this morning." Her eyes did not meet Miranda's — a clear indication that she knew of her own forwardness. At least, thankfully, she had not sat beside him on the sofa.
"That was thoughtful of you, Hero." With her eyes, Miranda conveyed that no matter how thoughtful the gesture, it made it no less unwise for a young unmarried girl. "Why don't you go in to breakfast now. I wish to speak with Arthur alone."
Panic flared in Hero's eyes, a quiet mortification that expressed itself only in a slight gasp of protest.
Miranda, realizing that her sister was afraid that Arthur would be chided for her own transgression, put her fears to rest quickly. "I just want to see to his health. Katherine said he could easily have died last night. I must find out what happened so that I can prevent it happening again."
Hero paled and swallowed convulsively. Tears made her eyes bright as stars. Without further comment, she hurried out of the room. Miranda doubted she would be indulging in much breakfast, however. It was difficult to eat with a bruised heart.
Arthur hurried to say, "Your sister and I share a love of literature, that is all. Please be assured that I would not think to hurt her reputation in any way."
Miranda wondered if she had been too hasty in her judgment. She sighed. It was a sin she had committed before. She would do her best to try not to commit it now. "Exactly how many accidents have you had since coming here, Arthur?"
Miranda tried to keep her question casual. She knew that Simon would know the answer. Of course, he would refuse to tell her and be forewarned that she was asking questions. She did not want Arthur to let slip that she had winnowed the details from him. But she need not have worried. Arthur apparently had not a suspicious bone in his body.
"Let me see —" He closed his eyes to concentrate.
"When I was but a few miles from arriving here, my carriage broke a wheel and I was thrown a distance. Fortunately I landed in a boggy spot and wasn't hurt. Not that Laddensby was any too pleased about the state of my clothing, I can tell you."
He was silent for a moment, whether in sympathy for his valet's annoyance or in thought, Miranda could not be certain. But she watched him closely, and saw the exact moment that suspicion leapt into his face.
"I say." His voice was pitched higher than normal, as if his mind might be racing. "It's quite extraordinary, really. Counting that incident, which actually happened before I arrived, I have fallen down the stairs; my room has been afire once; the girth of my saddle broke twice."
He sat forward, his voice sharp with excitement. "Oh, and I was set upon by a mad swarm of bees the doctors have told me that if I am so set upon again, several stings at once might kill me." He settled back against the sofa, obviously drained of energy.
Quietly, he added, "And, of course, that unfortunate substitution of poisonous mushrooms. Indeed, I have been quite unlucky of late."
Miranda smiled and nodded. Indeed. Or could it be that Arthur had actually been quite fortunate?
Fortunate enough to make someone quite desperate. But who?
The Fairy Tale Bride Page 37
