by Bree Wolf
Panic seized him.
His hands flew up to his throat as his eyes blinked into the dark, his gaze flickering over a shadow fast approaching the bed.
“Richard, don’t!”
Recognising his friend’s voice, Richard paused, but only for a second. Again, his lungs strained to draw in air, but none would come.
As he began to claw at his throat, Richard felt his friend’s strong hands wrap around his wrists, forcing them back until they were pushed into the mattress beside his head. “Evelyn!”
At the mention of his wife’s name, Richard froze.
“Richard, look at me!” Out of nowhere, her face appeared before him, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his face. “Look at me!”
Looking up into her brown eyes, Richard felt his panic subside. She spoke to him, and yet, he could barely make out a word. Focusing his mind, Richard tried to listen.
“Richard, you need to calm down. I know this is terrifying, but you need to try and stay calm. You cannot breathe through your mouth, but you can breathe. Everything is all right. I’m right here.” She kissed his forehead, her breath brushing gently over his skin. “I’m right here, Richard,” she whispered in his ear. “I’ll never leave you. Breathe.”
Lost in the soothing sound of her voice, Richard found a familiar calm wash over him. He still felt no air travel past his lips, and yet, his chest moved up and down.
He was breathing!
Relief claimed him, and Richard opened his mouth to whisper her name, but no sound would emerge.
“You cannot speak at the moment,” his wife whispered, her brown eyes holding his, “as no air travels by your vocal cords.” Her gaze locked with his. “But you can breathe. In and out. In and out.”
Slowly, Richard nodded, lifting a hand to touch her face. She smiled at him then, but her eyes grew moist with tears and the look on her face changed to one of utter relief. In the next moment, she all but flung herself into his arms and her lips found his in a desperate kiss.
Overwhelmed, Richard held her tight, enjoying the warmth of her body and the peace he felt in her embrace.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling herself off him. “I’m just…I’m so relieved to see you awake. I was so afraid that…”
Her voice trailed off, and Richard could see the fear that had lived in her heart all through the night. In a strange way, it was the very proof he needed to truly allow himself to believe that she did love him.
If he did not feel so weak, he would have danced with joy.
“Do you feel any pain?”
Besides an odd pressure in his throat, there was none, and so he shook his head.
“Do you feel dizzy?”
Testing, Richard moved his head. Then he shook it no.
“Do you feel nauseous?”
Again, he answered in the negative, and her face relaxed, her eyes closing briefly and her lips dancing upward into a heart-warming smile.
Once more, Richard reached out to touch her face, but before he could, she clasped it with her own and pressed a kiss onto his knuckles. His breathing quickened, and his heart beat thudded loudly in his chest. He still felt weak, but Evelyn’s presence and the thought of a future with her gave him strength, and he shook off the daze that still clung to his thoughts.
When Evelyn glanced over her shoulder, Richard’s gaze fell on his friend, standing by the foot of the bed, a large grin on his face. “I see you’re feeling better,” Sebastian teased. His eyes, however, looked overshadowed as well.
Richard smiled at him and nodded, then waved him closer.
“Help me sit him up,” Evelyn said to Sebastian as he drew near. Propping up his pillows, they helped him into a sitting position.
Although Richard’s body ached everywhere, it felt good to not be lying down. He still felt helpless and vulnerable when he remembered the tube in his throat, but it was better to sit. It felt less as though he was at somebody else’s mercy.
“Here, drink this,” Evelyn said, handing him a glass of water. Seeing him eye it suspiciously, she nodded. “It’ll be fine. Swallowing will feel strange, but it’ll work.”
Nodding–as that seemed to be all he could do these days–Richard put the glass to his lips. His wife was correct, it did feel strange, but it worked. It was another little piece of his life reclaimed.
“Is there anything you need?” his friend asked, his gaze glancing from Richard to his wife. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Richard shook his head, then he paused. Holding his left palm out flat, he used his right to mimic holding a quill and writing.
Sebastian nodded. “I’ll be right back.” However, he stopped halfway to the door, his gaze meeting Evelyn’s. “How is he?”
Richard’s wife smiled. “I think he will be fine.” For a moment, they simply looked at one another.
Watching them, Richard could see that a new bond had formed between them. Both had been by his side in this ordeal, and it had brought them closer.
When the door finally closed behind his friend, Richard pulled his wife into his arms, his gaze seeking hers. He swallowed, feeling the pressure of the tube in his throat. Then he lifted his hand, gently touching it to the quill as his lips formed the word, What?
His wife sighed, and he could see that she was reluctant to answer him. “We don’t know,” she began, her hands holding his tightly. “But at this point, it seems very likely that…that there was poison in your glass.”
Richard’s eyes went wide before he dimly recalled hearing her speak to her father as well as his mother and Sebastian about it. But then sleep had claimed him, and he had not heard what else had been said. Nodding to her, he urged her to continue.
Reluctantly, she told him of their suspicions toward his second cousin, Steven Lambert. Try as he might, Richard could not recall ever having met the man. So, indeed, it was possible that he had found a place in their home without being discovered. The thought that the man might still be here sent a new jolt of panic to Richard’s heart. What if he tried again before they could find him? What if he tried to harm someone else?
The door opened, and Sebastian walked in, a small stack of parchments as well as ink and quill in his hands. He set everything down on Richard’s bedside table before stepping back towards the door. “I’ll let the others know that you’re feeling better,” he said before his gaze once more travelled to Evelyn. “Have you told him…?”
Evelyn nodded. “I’m in the middle of it.”
“Good,” Sebastian mumbled, glancing at Richard. “We’ll talk later.” Then he left, closing the door behind him.
Sighing, Richard noticed a few rays of bright light reaching in through a gap in the curtains. He turned to look at his wife. How long? He mouthed.
“A day, I think,” she said, her forehead in a frown as she tried to remember what day it was. Her face looked fatigued, and Richard felt his heart swell with love, knowing that his wife and his friend had been here, watching over him all night. Lifting a hand, he cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb over the corner of her mouth.
Smiling, she looked up at him through red-rimmed eyes, fresh tears collecting. “I was so terrified to lose you,” she whispered, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she fought to contain the sobs that rose from her throat.
Pulling her into his arms, Richard rested his head against hers, feeling at peace despite the dangers and uncertainties that loomed outside this chamber. For right here, right now, he knew he was loved and that he loved in return.
It was truly a blessing. One he would cherish for the rest of his life.
Chapter Thirty-Eight – The Wrong Man
Evelyn was relieved to see Richard recover a little more every day as his body worked to neutralise the poison. She and Lord Weston as well as Camilla and Claudia took turns watching over him, ensuring that he could breathe and had everything he might need.
Still, Evelyn knew that they also formed a wall of protection around him, lest someone
try to harm him once more. And that thought never failed to send a cold shiver down her spine. How much longer could they do this? How much longer without raising suspicions among their other guests? And among their servants?
After all, it was only one who was at fault. However, if they could not find him, then the blame and suspicions would destroy the friendly atmosphere at Farnworth Manor.
Evelyn smiled as she saw her husband gruffly brush his mother’s hand away as she tried to straighten his blanket. Although the love and devotion his family had bestowed on him had touched him deeply, Richard was starting to get annoyed with all the fuss that was made over him.
Whenever they were alone, she tried to remind him that they were only doing so out of love; the one reason that always silenced him on the matter. Never had he realised how much he meant to his family, always thinking himself unworthy. Never had he been able to deduce from the way they looked at him or spoke to him how they felt. Never had he been able to read between the lines.
Always had he had doubts.
But no more.
Evelyn spoke clear words, pointing out the way they cared for him, reminding him of the little things they did. And slowly, step by step, Richard seemed to believe her. His countenance grew more lively, optimistic, and he himself grew more restless.
“I’m afraid I cannot allow you out of bed just yet,” she said sternly when he had flung back the blanket and all but swung one leg out the side of the bed. “Not as long as your throat is not healed. The swelling is receding, but it is not gone yet. You need to be patient for it would be too dangerous to walk about. What if you fall?” She shook her head vehemently as he scowled at her, arms crossed like a child.
Leaving her husband in Claudia’s care, Evelyn stepped from the room to find Mr. Adams waiting outside.
Upon seeing her, he pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against. “How is his lordship?” he asked, concern in his voice.
“He is fine,” Evelyn assured him, noting a purple bruise on the man’s forehead. “He will recover.”
His shoulders slumping, he shook his head. “I want to offer you my apologies for failing you, my lady.”
Evelyn frowned. “What for?”
“You bade me fetch some implements the night his lordship collapsed,” he explained, and Evelyn nodded, remembering that he had never returned. “In my haste, I tripped and hit my head.” He pointed to the purple bump on his forehead. “When I came to, you had already saved his lordship’s life.” He wrung his hands. “I thank you for that, my lady, and I hope that one day you can forgive me.”
“Do not worry, Mr. Adams,” Evelyn said, seeing the man’s contrition. “All ended well. His lordship is fine.”
Mr. Adams breathed a sigh of relief. “He is, yes.”
Smiling at the young man, Evelyn took her leave and headed downstairs. Before she had even reached the ground floor, childish laughter echoed to her ears. Quickening her steps, Evelyn headed to the entrance hall where she found Camilla as well as Lord Weston receiving a young couple and their two daughters, who were no older than six.
“My dear,” Camilla said upon seeing Evelyn, holding out a hand to her. “May I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Lambert and their two daughters, Mildred and Theresa.” Although a polite smile clung to her face, Evelyn could see the tension that rested on her features only too well. Was this the man who had tried to kill her husband?
If so, Evelyn was certain that he had not done so himself as she could not recall ever having seen him anywhere near the estate. Or was Lord Weston correct and Mr. Lambert had paid off one of Farnworth Manor’s servants? If only they knew who!
“Good day, Lady Ashwood,” Mr. Lambert greeted her kindly, his green eyes meeting hers without hesitation, open and honest. “May I offer my congratulations on your wedding? May you find it an equal blessing as I do.” A devoted smile came to his face as he looked at his wife, a slender young woman with gentle eyes.
“Thank you, Mr. Lambert,” Evelyn replied, her heart sinking as her instincts told her that this man could not possibly be the one they sought. Or could he? Was he deceiving her even now? Reminded of her husband’s inability to read others, Evelyn could have cursed in frustration.
“In your letter, you said Lord Ashwood had fallen ill,” Mr. Lambert enquired, his gaze shifting to Camilla. “I hope he has recovered.”
Camilla nodded. “He is feeling much better. Thank you.”
Watching Mr. Lambert carefully, Evelyn found that he appeared genuinely relieved to hear the news of Richard’s recovery. “That is wonderful to hear,” he beamed, turning smiling eyes to his wife. “You mentioned it was something he ate. I have heard that some people react unusually to certain foods. In fact, a friend of mine almost died after ingesting a certain nut. It is quite alarming!”
“It is indeed, Mr. Lambert,” Evelyn replied, doing her best to tread carefully. “We are grateful you came so quickly. We didn’t dare hope as there has been a bit of estrangement in the past.”
Smiling, Mr. Lambert shook his head. “I assure you, my lady, that nothing would have prevented us from coming. After all, we’re family, and near or far, that means a great deal to me. I have no doubt would it have been I calling on you, you would have come for me as well.” His gentle green eyes looked from Evelyn to her mother-in-law. “Please tell me what I can do. Anything to assist his lordship’s recovery.”
Judging from the look on her face, Camilla was equally surprised to hear Mr. Lambert speak to them thus. “You are too kind,” she said with a sidelong glance at Evelyn. “But at the moment, all he requires is rest. I’m certain he will be able to receive you soon.” Then she invited their new guests into the drawing room, telling them that their rooms were being prepared.
Watching them leave, Evelyn turned to see Lord Weston beside her. “He does not seem like one who would have orchestrated this,” her husband’s friend observed, disappointment and relief mixing in his eyes.
“He does not,” Evelyn agreed, wondering if her initial thought might have been right after all.
Lord Weston’s gaze narrowed as he looked at her. “You have someone else in mind.”
Evelyn swallowed, knowing she could not ignore her suspicions any longer. After all, her husband’s life was at stake.
With each word she spoke, Lord Weston tensed more. “I should have thought of this myself,” he cursed, his eyes sweeping the entrance hall. “Where is he?”
Evelyn shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“We need to find him. Fast!”
Chapter Thirty-Nine – Not What It Seemed
Richard lay in bed resting.
Still.
It seemed all he was permitted to do these days was rest, and it was starting to make him restless. Quite the irony, was it not?
Nevertheless, even when his limbs urged him to jump from the bed, Richard knew that he was not up to the task yet. The one time he tried to get up without help, his head began to spin right away while his legs felt like pudding, ready to give out at any moment. Rushing to his side, Evelyn had immediately urged him back to bed, snapping at him for endangering himself.
A smile came to Richard’s face at the memory of her fiery eyes, and he had to admit he rather liked her worrying about him. After all, did concern for another not come from deep affection? Without love, could there ever be concern?
Blinking, Richard focused his gaze on his sister as she sat beside his bed, her gaze focused on the book in her hand. It had been at least an hour since Claudia had come to visit him, and she had spent most of that time sitting there, reading to him. This, too, made Richard wonder if he had not been misinterpreting his family’s feelings for him.
When Claudia had spoken to him Christmas Eve, Richard had first realised that his sister actually cared for him. But now, with the diligence and devotion she showed in caring for him, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that his family knew him better than he would have thought.
Knew him and cared for him.
This rather new and all the more startling realisation still overwhelmed Richard, and he did not know what to do about it. Should he speak to his family? Assure them that he cared for them as well? Or did they know? Had he once again been the only one in the dark?
The other reason for Richard’s restlessness was without a doubt the threat that currently hung over his life. Despite his wife’s as well as his friend’s reassurances, Richard understood very well what danger still lurked somewhere in Farnworth Manor. And being locked away, unable to move, did not help the situation or his state of mind.
After all, until they knew for certain the motive behind this poisoning, they could not be sure that no one else would fall prey to the man’s schemes–whoever he was.
Richard wondered if his second cousin would answer his mother’s letter and if the man’s reply would shed any light on the situation. Most likely, it would not, leaving them in the dark about how to proceed. After all, who was to say that the culprit would not wait them out until he once more felt safe to attempt to take Richard’s life? Years could pass without them finding out who had done this.
Richard closed his eyes. They would never feel safe again.
As a knock sounded on the door, Claudia stopped reading and smiled at him. “It would seem you are in high demand, dear Brother.” Then she rose and went to open the door.
The one-person Richard would not have expected to call on him now stood outside his chamber.
“May I come in?” Mr. Bragg asked, a polite smile on his face as he looked at Claudia.
“Certainly,” she replied, allowing the man inside.
“I came to check on his lordship’s condition,” Mr. Bragg said, his voice even, and yet, there seemed to be something odd about the way he glanced from Claudia to Richard.
Then he cleared his throat and once more focused his attention on Richard’s sister. “You should be resting as well considering your own condition. I promise I shall see to your brother.”
Sighing, Claudia nodded, then walked over and placed the book on Richard’s bedside table. “Be a good patient, and don’t grumble at the man too much,” she teased him, a gentle smile on her face.
