The Duchess and the Spy

by Marly Mathews

  “Yes, dearest we know,” Margaret said wearily. “Do not fear, Christopher told us that he would be back to collect you later tonight. He said that he would take you to Wyndham House.” Gathering all of her strength, Isabella charged toward the door pushing past the assembled men, and opening the door before anyone could stop her. She heard her uncle’s angry oath, and Margaret’s surprised cry, before she bolted out onto the sidewalk. Without her magic, getting her own way when it counted, was proving to be extremely difficult.

  Taking control of her wits, she immediately headed towards Covington House and prayed that her memory would serve her right, since she hadn’t visited London that much before she had been taken to France. She glanced at the grand mansions, and kept her fast pace, as she heard her uncle and cousin following her closely. She nearly collided with an elderly couple, out walking and quickly made her apologies, before she kept on walking.

  The sun would set soon, and she knew that Julian’s time was probably already limited. She stopped in front of a mansion that was larger than all of the rest on the square, and began running up the steps. She heard her uncle shouting her name and glanced only once behind her.

  She stopped when she reached the door, and struggled to take control of her breath. She was just about to use the lion headed doorknocker when it swung open. She gratefully, walked inside, and bumped into something large and imposing. She craned her neck to stare up at the rigid man as a large lump formed in her throat.

  “Good afternoon, Christopher,” she whispered with dread, as she looked up at him. He wore a stormy look, and she didn’t want to be around if he blew. Christopher reached out to steady her, just as her uncle and cousin made their inopportune entry.

  “Upon my soul, Isabella, you can run awfully fast,” Margaret breathed, leaning heavily against her father. “I think…” she sighed, “I think you could beat Will…and he’s the quickest runner in the family.”

  “You were running?” Christopher hissed, staring angrily down at her. “With your weakened leg you were running?”

  “My knee feels perfectly fine,” she retorted, mustering a slight smile for him. “And besides, I required a bit of exercise and some fresh air. I used to do a good deal of walking back in France.”

  “You’re biting your lip,” he informed her. “Which, if my memory serves me right that means you are in pain.”

  “Where is your father?” she asked urgently, clutching onto his coat.

  “Didn’t Aunt Mary tell you to keep her at Ryder Hall?” Christopher asked, turning towards Henry and Margaret.

  “Yes, Christopher, she did. But though your Isabella claims she is a Brandon, I disagree. She acts far too much like a Murray and a MacLeod. Take my word for it. I live with one,” Henry said cheekily, flashing Christopher a sympathetic smile.

  “Do come back with us, Isabella. Baby Adaira, shall wake up and no doubt want to see you again. Why Christopher, she took to Isabella as if she knew her from the day she was born. They have to be kindred spirits,” Margaret quipped loudly, watching nervously as Christopher tightened his grip on Isabella’s shoulders.

  “Christopher, you are going to bruise me,” Isabella hissed crossly, staring defiantly up at him.

  “Don’t you ever do what you are told, my lady?” He seemed quite sore at her, but he had relaxed his grip.

  “Not when I know with complete certainty that I am right.”

  “My darling wife, you truly are unbelievable.” If she weren’t careful, she was going to drive him over the edge, because as it was, he seemed about ready to strangle her.

  “Thank you,” she replied happily, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, just as she heard her aunt’s surprised sigh. She whirled around and fell against Christopher’s hard chest, as she stared up at her aunt who was descending the stairs. Mary picked up her long skirt, and ran down the rest of the steps. She reached out for Isabella, pulling her away from Christopher. She hugged her so tightly that Isabella believed that she would squeeze the life out of her. This was something she definitely wasn’t used to!

  “Let me look at you,” Mary commanded, sighing happily. “Oh, you will give Mama a fit.” She ran her hands gingerly across her hair. “You have changed so very much. You are quite the lady, Isabella. And you, Christopher dear, you shall take great care of her. I can’t bear the thought of ever losing Isabella again, a happy day indeed.”

  “Mama, I am sorry,” Margaret said.

  “Don’t fret, my dearest. I realized that Isabella would give you quite the row, if she decided that she didn’t want to be at Ryder Hall.”

  “Well, I didn’t. I do believe that I might be of some assistance here.”

  “I have done everything I can do for him,” Mary said.

  She sighed. Her aunt had a large heart, but she wasn’t as talented as Isabella was when it came to the healing arts. Mary might have MacLeod blood before she married, but she lacked some of the more unusual MacLeod gifts.

  “I agree with Aunt Mary,” Christopher announced. She whirled on him, pursing her lips angrily. She poked him furiously on the chest with her index finger.

  “Pray, do not tell me that you are afraid that I shall poison your father,” she accused angrily, wishing that she had never openly admitted proudly that she was his wife. She noticed his wince, and narrowed her eyes, as she finally figured out the puzzle that they were trying to conceal from her. “Why you insufferable man, has your father been poisoned?” If this was the case, she just might be able to help. She knew a good deal about poisons and their antidotes. He stared back at her, but something gave way in his eyes and she gasped, and then covered her hand with her mouth. “Christopher, please, you are an implacable man. Allow me to see your father, and I might be able to save his life. I know that you don’t trust me,” she whispered so that her family would not hear her. “But what exactly do you have to lose? Uncle Henry told me that your father is dying. Wouldn’t you want to place a small amount of faith in me, just this once?”

  Christopher stared into her brilliant green eyes. She wished that just this once he would take a chance on her, by giving her his trust.

  “Fine. I do not want you upsetting anyone? Is that understood?”

  “Perfectly,” she muttered, wishing with all of her heart that Christopher would trust her no matter what, she did or said.

  “And besides do you know how foolish you were? Don’t you realize that you could have been abducted, and I wouldn’t have been there to save you?”

  “I didn’t leave the Square, and Margaret and Uncle Henry had their eyes on me all of the time. And besides, perhaps it would be to your benefit to lose your wife, since you never wanted me anyway.”

  “Don’t ever say that again. I always want you. You are my wife, and I took our vows very seriously.”

  “Yes. I did as well.” She felt him squeeze her hand gently. “I do believe, I am growing quite fond of you.” He pulled her to his side.

  “That confession warms my heart. I am glad that you finally accepted the fact that you are my wife.” He kissed her lightly, just as they reached his parents bedchamber. “Take heart, dearest, my father looks quite ill.”

  “I assure you, I believe I have probably seen much worse.”

  He pushed the door slowly open, and they walked into the bedchamber. Isabella glanced quickly at them, and saw Jason’s look of surprised alarm, just as she pushed Christopher’s restraining arm, toward the large canopied bed. She heard Christopher’s mother sigh, as she came towards her.

  “Welcome to the family, my dear,” she said warmly, hugging her briefly, and leaving Isabella feeling quite surprised. “Christopher, my dear, you shouldn’t have brought Isabella into this atmosphere. I am certain that your father would not have wished it.” She glanced worriedly towards the bed, as Julian let out an agonized moan in his light slumber.

  Jane rushed back to his side, and held his hand tightly. Isabella felt her throat constrict at the touching scene, and shook off Christopher�
��s hand, as she quietly made her way to Jane’s side. She studied Julian, and gasped when she noticed his colouring and the glassy look that he had in his eyes when he opened them briefly.

  “Might I take a closer look at him? Does he have a rash?” she asked quickly, not wanting to alarm the man by pulling back his nightshirt. If only she had her magic to rely on. She could heal him easily that way.

  “Yes,” Jane said.

  “Give him some more water,” she whispered, as Jane reached for the pitcher and glass on his nightstand. “I’ve seen this poison before. It is quite a slow acting poison though, and like most poisons, it is fatal. I know that you are all resigned to the fact that he is dying, but there is an antidote, and it will save his life, for I do not believe that he is too far gone yet, though time is of the essence.”

  “What can you do?” Jane asked.

  “I’ll need to write out a list, and someone shall have to go to the chemist and collect the necessary supplies.” Isabella walked over to Jane’s escritoire. “May I?” she asked gesturing towards the writing utensils upon Jane’s desk.

  “By all means. Use whatever you need.”

  “Jason, I believe that you shall be the one for the errand since Christopher has other more pressing matters on his mind at the moment.” Isabella designated, staring at her cousin thoughtfully. “Do this errand with the utmost discretion, for whoever poisoned the duke may still be about. I shall have my answers soon, Christopher, for I cannot fathom where your father could have come in contact with such a frightful poison.”

  “And I shall have the answer as to why you know about the antidote to this poison,” he answered.

  “Children,” Jane interrupted. “If Isabella knows how to cure Julian than I don’t care how she knows how to do it. Your father’s life is far too important to trifle with. Jason, my dear, you would be doing me a great service to make haste down to the chemist you know which one to go to that will not ask too many questions. And Christopher, you shall keep silent on any issue that you may have with your wife, until your father is well on the road to recovery.”

  They all turned, as Jack stumbled into the room, mumbling something about Whitehall not having any leads. Isabella listened with avid interest, but was disappointed when the man suddenly fell silent. He seemed extremely uncomfortable, and looked as if he wanted to flee the scene of his crime.

  “Jack, dear, you have not greeted Isabella properly,” Jane chastised, as the weariness in her voice betrayed her fatigue.

  “Of course,” Jack said politely, collecting his senses, and striding across the room toward her. Isabella stood transfixed, as she noticed the striking similarity that he had to his elder brother, and she gasped, as he gallantly reached for her hand and kissed it gently. “I welcome you to the family dear sister.”

  “Show off,” Christopher murmured, staring amusingly over at his brother. “My brother is quite the lady’s man. You would do well to steer clear of him dearest. Lest I become jealous.”

  “Oh, Christopher, do be serious,” Jane murmured, “You know full well that your brother would never do such a thing, and honestly, you should give Isabella more credit to her character.”

  “I’ll be off, then,” Jason announced.

  “Make sure that you fetch everything on my list,” she stressed, watching as Julian’s breathing become even more laboured. “And listen to the Duchess, make haste and be smart about it.”

  “I shall.” He walked to the bedchamber door, and stopped when Jack and Christopher intercepted him. They whispered to him, and Isabella watched curiously as Jason nodded his head, as if he were receiving instructions. She hated being on the outside looking in, and decided that she would have her answers from her husband tonight. Everything seemed like it was a cloak and dagger operation, and she wanted to know why there was a need for such secrecy. She knew that Christopher was the English Spy known as the Wolf. There was no need to hide anything from her.

  She also knew that the rest of Christopher’s family were no doubt involved with the Crown at some point or another. She suspected that Julian had probably been poisoned by one of her Pierre’s men, and she wanted to know why. The poison they had used against Julian had been indigenous to the outlaying area around Château fort De Clermont and had actually been first used by the De Clermont family in the early fifteenth century to dispose of some rivals.

  How she was going to answer Christopher’s questions were beyond her, and he would resist when it came to answering her questions. Dread filled her as she realized how very close Pierre’s henchmen could be to her, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to trust anyone outside of her family lest, they were working for him. She felt like an old woman, as she took a long deep breath, and smiled encouragingly at Jane. All she wanted was for it all to be over. She wanted to feel safe again.

  “You are exhausted,” Christopher said, as he made his way over to her and took her arm. “Come and sit over by Marianne, you seem quite worn out. I shall examine that knee of yours later. I do not like the way that you take care of everyone else, and then blatantly ignore your own injuries.”

  “Christopher, you can be overly suffocating at times. You needn’t worry. I can make your Papa right as rain as soon as I receive my supplies. Though it is a rare poison, thankfully, the antidote is quite simple to obtain. That should in itself ease your mind.”

  “She suits you, Christopher.” She heard Marianne say softly, as she leaned toward them. “Thank you for saving Jason.”

  “How do you know about the poison that has been administered to my father?” he hissed, watching to make sure that his mother could not hear them. “I suppose it’s your magical ways again, eh?”

  “It is a poison that originated in France during the 1400’s. Pray, tell me what is so suspicious about that?”

  “There is nothing suspicious about it, though I will admit your explanation is quite dubious to my way of thinking. There must be more to it than that,” he replied uneasily, staring at her as if he didn’t believe a word that she was saying.

  “There isn’t…and even if there were…now is not the time or place to talk about it. I have the proper knowledge needed to save your father, and you feel the need to have a go at me? I have justified demands of my own. First of all, I would like to know what in blazes your father was doing to come in contact with a poison such as the one that is at this moment seeping through his body and killing him little by little. If your father is someone like the fox or the raven or some other clever little codename then he should have taken great pains to keep an eye out for this sort of trick!”

  “What my father might be involved in is none of your concern, Isabella.”

  “None of my concern, my foot!”

  “The both of you are acting like shrews. This stops now,” Jane commanded firmly, shooting an annoyed gaze to them before returning her watchful eyes to Julian. “I thought that I told you to leave your wife in peace Christopher. You are straining my patience to the limits. You may end your interrogation here and now.” Mary walked quietly into the room, and stared over questioningly at Isabella, who shrugged her shoulders stood up, and walked over towards her aunt.

  “You are a blessing, my darling. I am relieved that you are able to help Julian,” she declared softly, as she wrapped her arm around her. “You always were very level headed, nothing like some of the addle-brained young ladies that I meet.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Mary. I think that I shall get along quite nicely with Christopher’s mother.”

  “Well, of course you shall. Jane is my closest, and most trusted friend, and she’s always been very fond of you. You will not have to fret about her making any waves in your marriage. She isn’t the interfering type.”

  “I heard that Will is in the service, and I so wanted to see him.”

  “Yes, Will was quite adamant in wanting to be in His Majesty’s Navy. I tried to dissuade him, but to no avail, and his silence is unnerving. I fear that something dire has befallen h
im, and Christopher won’t tell me a thing. No one will. Henry assures me that all is well, and I am letting my overactive imagination get the better of me. Do you think that I am overreacting?”

  At that moment, Jason rushed into the room. He had made haste.

  “No,” Isabella whispered. “You are his mother, and it is your responsibility to always worry about him, if you didn’t then it would seem quite unnatural. Jason, I commend you. You moved as quickly as humanly possible. You did make haste.”

  She took the package from him. She opened it carefully and pulled out the small glass vials. She gestured to Christopher, and told him, to bring her a glass with a small amount of water in it, and a teaspoon. She looked toward the heavens and prayed that she would remember the right dosages so that she didn’t accidentally help the poison in killing Julian. Christopher handed her the glass of water, and she measured out the mixtures, to hopefully the exact amount. She swirled it around in the water, and walked over to Julian’s side.

  Jane lifted his head carefully off of his pillow, and she gently held the glass to his lips.

  “Please, sir, drink all of it.” She watched as he sipped weakly at it. Once he had swallowed the entire glass, she sank into the bedside chair, and looked over at Jane. “You might want to have a basin at the ready since he will undoubtedly be compelled to relieve himself in about fifteen minutes,” she advised glancing at the clock. “He will seem even sicker than he already is for about twenty-four hours, and then suddenly he will gradually regain control and will begin to feel like his old self.” She pressed her fingers to her temple. “I should have told Jason to get something for the monstrous headache that is pounding through my head.”

  “Oh, my dearest, Isabella, we are all indebted to you,” Jane breathed, gently kissing her husband’s forehead. “You shall be better soon, my love.”

  “I should whisk you away to Wyndham House,” Christopher murmured, moving to stand behind her. She glanced up at him, and smiled weakly.

  “I would love to oblige you, Christopher, but as it is I must stay here and keep a vigil until I know that the poison is working its way out of his system. Perhaps, I shall just rest for a minute.” She leaned her head against the chair, and closed her eyes. She fell asleep almost immediately, and turned her head on the chair as she descended into a nightmare.