Lyn Stone Page 18

  “Show him out,” Guy said, frowning. Then he addressed her. “Would you like to go upstairs and rest while I see to this? It’s undoubtedly something to do with Father. It always is.”

  “No, I promise you I’m fine today. There is something I’d like to discuss with you afterward.”

  He nodded as a young lad entered the garden behind Lochland. Nervously shifting from one booted foot to the other and twisting his woolen cap, the hired man from Edgefield looked from Guy to her and back again.

  “Well, speak up, Corrie. What’s the problem?” Guy asked.

  “It…it’s his lordship, sir. He’s taken poorly this morning. Worse than usual. Mr. Mimms says you must come right away if you can.”

  “Is he dying?” Guy asked with a sigh, obviously unwilling, in any other circumstance, to go to Edgefield and leave her and Beau here unattended.

  “Go on, Guy. We’ll be fine,” she told him.

  “No,” he answered simply.

  The boy cleared his throat. “Mr. Mimms says he might be. Dying, that is. He’s right bad off, sir.”

  “I’ll fetch Beau,” Lily announced. “We shall all go.”

  When Guy looked as if he might protest, she held up a hand to prevent it. “We will accompany you and there’s an end to it,” she said firmly.

  She noted his look of relief as Guy addressed the messenger. “Go to the stables and have them harness the trap. Then ride back and tell Mr. Mimms I am on my way.”

  Lily rushed upstairs and found Beau at his lessons. By the time they were ready to leave for Edgefield, she discovered that she felt quite herself again. Exhaustion had given way to a sense of purpose. Guy needed her.

  “Must we see the old earl again?” Beau whispered as they hurriedly descended the stairs. He grasped her hand as tightly as he could.

  “Never fear, darling, you need not see him when we get there,” she assured her son. “But Duquesne should not have to face this alone. The earl is his father and the only family he has.”

  “He has us,” Beau declared. “And I’m not afraid.”

  “There’s my brave boy,” Lily said with a smile. “I knew we could count on you.”

  “You are all well again, aren’t you, Mama?” he asked, peering up at her with concern too deep for a boy of his age.

  “I am,” she promised. “And I intend to stay that way.” If sheer will could accomplish that, she added to herself.

  As soon as they reached Edgefield Manor, she and Guy left Beau in the care of his housekeeper, Mrs. Sparks, and hurried up the stairs. After only a cursory attempt to prevent her going with him, Guy relented.

  “Thank God you’ve come,” said the heavyset older man who greeted them at the door to the master chamber. “He’s worse. I’ve sent for the doctor, but he’s not yet here.”

  “Mr. Mimms, my father’s man,” he said to Lily, by way of a hasty introduction. “This is my wife, Lady Lillian.”

  “Ma’am,” the man acknowledged, suddenly distracted by a groan from inside the chamber. He immediately left them for the patient. She and Guy followed him inside.

  The earl’s complexion was ashen. Sweat covered his brow and dampened what she could see of his nightshirt. In spite of that, he was still a handsome old fellow with granite features. His graying hair, thick and unruly, had a familiar texture and the beautifully winged eyebrows and long eyelashes reminded her of Guy.

  Lily realized she had unconsciously held out a slender hope that perhaps her husband had been sired by someone else—not unheard of in the upper echelons of society where bored or neglected ladies took their pleasure where they found it—but apparently that was not the case here. There was no mistaking the strong resemblance between father and son. She fully understood Guy’s consternation over what he might inherit in addition to the earl’s physical characteristics and the title.

  Guy had pressed his fingertips to the earl’s throat. When he removed them, he addressed the valet. “His heartbeat’s uneven and he feels cold.”

  Indeed, the man had begun to shiver uncontrollably. Guy tucked the covers more securely. Worry suffused his strong features and Lily could well see why. The earl might not be dying, but Guy’s father obviously was far from well.

  Eyes moved frantically, back and forth beneath the closed lids as if he were dreaming. His lips parted. “Mimms!” he shouted, and began to thrash violently.

  Only then did Lily notice that his wrists were bound with lengths of silken cord secured to the bedposts. After a few moments of useless twisting, he quieted again.

  Guy ushered the valet a few feet away from the bed and spoke in a low voice. “Did you administer the laudanum?”

  “I did, sir, over an hour ago. It seemed to have little effect other than to make him sick.”

  Mimms grew more agitated, rubbing his own chest with his palm and staring at his master. “I fear to give him more. His tolerance for it has grown so great, it takes a near fatal dose to calm him now. Perhaps if he had more of the herb, that would help, but there is none left.”

  “Herb? What herb?” Guy demanded. “What else have you given him?”

  Mimms blanched at Guy’s sharp tone and backed away from him a few steps. “Only herbal tea, sir. It’s nothing bad. He’s drunk it for years, two, sometimes three times a week.”

  Guy’s eyes narrowed on the man. “Ephriam prescribed this?”

  “No, sir, not his idea, though he knows of it. I told him myself.” Mimms began to sweat profusely and tug at his high, stiff collar. “Since our time in India, the earl has had a preferred tea, a rather bitter brew. But it is difficult to procure in quantity. Mistress Andolou makes it for him.”

  Guy placed a firm hand on Mimms’s shoulder. “Listen to me, Mimms. Does this tea alter my father’s behavior at all? You, above anyone, would know. Tell me the truth.”

  Mimms swallowed hard. “I believe so, my lord.” He shook his head. “Often it gives him dreams of…of your dead mother. Only she is alive to him. He craves those dreams like air, sir.”

  Guy clenched his eyes and guessed. “That’s not all, is it?”

  “Once in a while the dreams turn very bad.”

  Guy turned to his father and peered down at him. “Did he have any today?”

  “Early this morning, sir. As I said, I was going out for—”

  “Go now,” Guy ordered. “Get it from Andolou. I’ll stay with him. Say I will be coming to speak with her later about this.”

  Mimms hurried to obey.

  Guy turned to Lily. “I think we must stay here at Edgefield until this matter is settled one way or another. Do you mind?”

  “Mind? Of course not. Is there anything else I can do?”

  “Make yourself at home,” he said with a poor attempt at a smile, brushing a stray curl off her forehead. “I am so sorry this has happened, especially in the midst of all our other trials. I promise this will not interfere with my duty to you and Beau.”

  Lily grasped his hand between hers. “You are not to worry about anything right now other than your father’s welfare, do you hear?” She looked toward the man on the bed. “Do you think this herb tea might have made him worse?”

  Guy sighed and ran a hand through his hair as his gaze followed hers. “Who knows?”

  “Andolou’s potions are quite popular with many in the county,” Lily said. The herb woman had been living on the outskirts of the village for as long as Lily could remember. Her father had attempted to befriend the foreigner with no success. Andolou had her own religion, she had avowed, and it did not include churches and such.

  Rumors circulated that she dabbled in black magic, but no one took that seriously. Her mysterious origins accounted for the gossip. She was simply an island woman, brought to England from the West Indies and probably abandoned for one reason or another. She made a living the only way she knew how.

  Andolou provided useless love potions and the occasional aid to digestion, along with regular herbs for the family cook pot. These were the main
stay of her livelihood. Lily herself had purchased a few of the latter from her when the garden at the vicarage failed to produce them.

  “It’s probable that your father felt desperate enough to seek a cure on his own,” Lily said.

  “Or perhaps a cure was not what he sought,” Guy muttered, his eyes still trained on his father. “We shall see.”

  Lily left him to tend the earl while she went down to arrange for moving to Edgefield.

  She had few qualms about bringing Beau here to live for a while. The village nearby had been her home for the first eighteen years of her life. The place and its people were familiar to her.

  The old manor house seemed comfortable enough even if it did lack the polish and many fine furnishings of her house. She would put her efforts into making it more presentable, more befitting the title of its owner. It was the least she could do for Guy, and indeed, fitted perfectly with their agreement to help one another.

  As an added benefit, engaging herself in this would give her purpose and distract her from her current problems.

  Also, it would remove her even further, physically and emotionally, from her former in-laws. That could only be a good thing in light of her suspicions. She felt that she and Beau would be safer here where no one in the household could possibly benefit by getting rid of her.

  To that end, Lily decided she would not send for Beau’s governess or anyone else employed at home. Guy’s staff would suffice and she would tutor Beau herself.

  Guy set aside the book he was reading and reluctantly welcomed Lily back to the master chamber later that evening. He had not been out of the room all day.

  “How is the earl?” Lily whispered as she approached the bed.

  She quite naturally rested her palm on Guy’s shoulder, a caring gesture he valued. Every touch she offered fueled his need for her, but he now recognized that some needs transcended the physical.

  He placed a hand over hers and gave it a fond squeeze. The newness of sharing worry would never grow old for one who had faced it alone these many years the way he had done. If for no other reason than that, he would hold Lily dear. But there were certainly other reasons.

  “He’s been sleeping peacefully since around noon. Let’s have a seat over there,” he said when he saw she meant to stay.

  He took the chair facing the bed so he could continue to observe his father. “His pulse seems normal now and his color has returned. His heart might be affected, but I believe he will recover.”

  “You must be so relieved,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve been thinking about the tea.”

  “So have I. I questioned Mimms further when he brought it and found that father’s been ingesting the stuff since shortly after my mother died.”

  Lily frowned. “You think it’s possible that the tea could be producing his fits.”

  “That’s what I first thought, but now I recall there were a couple of incidents before he began taking it.”

  “Will you tell me about them?”

  “Apparently he became violent when told of Mother’s death. He was in London when it happened. He destroyed an entire room and put his fist through a window. Cut himself badly and refused to let anyone tend him. He might have bled to death, but a friend knocked him senseless so they could treat his wounds. Saved his life.”

  Lily shook her head, her eyes sad with sympathy. “Poor man. There was another, you say?”

  He swallowed hard. The memory was like a physical blow. “After Mother’s burial. I was privy to that one myself. Not a sight for a boy who worshiped his old man.”

  “Dr. Ephriam came,” Lily guessed. “And administered laudanum?”

  Guy agreed. “And Mimms has done so ever since. He has been with Father since they served together in India. My uncle was earl then, but he died and Father was called home from his post to assume the title. Mimms went from batman to valet when they left the army.”

  “A dedicated retainer,” Lily remarked.

  “Absolutely. I’ve often wondered why, Lily. Why would he remain loyal to a man who…who was no longer the man he admired so? There have been times when I could not afford to pay him, yet he has stayed on.”

  Lily smiled as she left her chair and knelt before him, placing a hand on his knee. “Obviously because he is devoted to your father, Guy. And, I would venture to guess, because he admires you.”

  Guy looked down into the clear blue eyes that held such innocence despite all she had suffered. “Or because there was nowhere else for a former soldier with scant training as a valet to go.”

  She shrugged. “Perhaps. But back to the tea. Could those two times your father lost his reason immediately after your mother died have been due simply the wildness of his grief for the woman he loved?”

  “I don’t know, but that’s my hope. In any event, I plan to test the tea.” He smiled down at her. “The question is how to test it.”

  Lily was about to answer when a brusque voice sounded from the doorway. “Now this seems a strange honeymoon. Not as strange as your wedding, I’ll admit, but—”

  Guy laughed softly. “Jelf? What the devil are you doing here?” He rose and gave Lily a hand up.

  “Interfering,” Jelf said. “Smarky let slip that you’ve need of a friend and, in my book, he hardly qualifies. He came to tell you that the fellow you asked about— Brinks, was it?—is dead. Drowned in the Thames. Foul play, no doubt.”

  “Damn!” Guy heaved a gust of disappointment. “He was the one holding Lily in Bedlam when she escaped. I was hoping to question him. Among other things.”

  “I can well imagine what things. Sorry, old man. Anyway, Smarky’s outside, scouting the premises for possible threats.” Jelf rolled his eyes. “I’d count the statues in your garden before he leaves if I were you.”

  “It was very kind of you to come, too,” Lily said.

  “Ah, Viscountess. You are a sight different than when we met at your wedding. Believe it or not, I was sober enough to realize you were wearing breeches at the time.”

  “So I was. Unkind of you to remind me of it, but I forgive you.” Lily smiled and Guy had the unreasonable urge to order Jelf to leave immediately. Jealousy had been foreign to him until he met her. That must signify something ominous.

  Jelf sketched a bow. “Please, do call me Galen, my lady. So few people do.”

  Lily strode over to him and held out her hand. “And I am Lily to my friends.”

  “Then may I ever be one of those, since you are wed to the worst scoundrel I know and may have great need of me.”

  Shoving his jealousy aside, Guy had an idea. “It’s I who have need of you at the moment.”

  A sandy eyebrow shot up as Jelf questioned, “How so?”

  Guy looked at Lily who was regarding him with curiosity. “I’ll get Mimms. He can make the tea.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Guy! You would not!”

  He laughed at her shocked expression. “No, sweetheart, I wouldn’t,” he assured her. “It’s for me to drink and Galen to observe. I trust him to keep you safe if the stuff happens to do me in.”

  “No, I won’t let you drink it!” she exclaimed, grabbing his forearm. “We…we’ll test it on an animal or something.”

  She cared. Was there another soul in the world who would worry that much about his health? Hell no. Most of his mates, including Jelf, would say he deserved what he got for his daring.

  His chest swelled with feeling for her. “An animal would not have the same reaction as a person, Lily. It has to be done.”

  Jelf was looking from one to the other as they argued. “What must be done? Are we performing experiments?”

  “Have a seat and Lily will give you the details while I go and find Mimms.”

  “Never mind. I’ll go. You stay and explain things to…Galen.”

  Guy tried to ignore the way his friend ogled his wife. It was just Jelf’s way. Still Guy did his best to draw Galen’s attention away from Lily as she left the room.

  “Justice
Jelf would not have stirred himself to travel this far from London simply to see how the marriage he had performed was getting on,” Guy observed. “There must be more to the incident at Bedlam than has thus far met the eye. What have you learned?”

  Galen, for once entirely sober and looking quite official, leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees. He got right to the point. “What do you have a mind to do with her?”

  “The primary objective,” Guy said, choosing his words carefully, “is to find out whether there is or was a plot afoot to confine Lily and take charge of her son and his property.”

  “The brother-in-law?” Galen asked.

  Guy nodded. “We believe he was responsible for drugging her and carting her to London, to St. Mary’s.”

  “He must have known her presence there would have been reported within a day or so. It’s the law.”

  Guy scoffed. “Yes, but if she had not escaped, who would have questioned it? Her son is seven years old. She’s lived a fairly secluded life here after her marriage to Bradshaw. Her father and the rest of her relatives are dead. Conveniently, there were witnesses to her behavior at a soiree who might have supported any claim he would have made that Lily is insane.”

  “Is she?” Galen asked, taking a sip of his brandy and regarding Guy with an inquisitive lift of the brow.

  The blunt question gave Guy pause, but he quickly recovered and shook his head vehemently. “No, of course not.”

  “But?” Galen insisted.

  Guy sighed and propped wearily against the front of the desk, tossing back his own drink. “There have been three episodes of erratic acts on her part.”

  “Caused by?”

  “I haven’t determined that as yet, but Lily is perfectly lucid except for those occurrences.”

  “Some sort of drug, you’re thinking?”

  Guy nodded. “Perhaps the very thing I intend to test when she returns with Mimms. I am almost convinced it is what has affected my father all these years.”

  “Something he is taking voluntarily?” Galen asked thoughtfully.

  “Yes, unfortunately,” Guy answered. “The local herb woman, whom I suspect is his mistress, furnishes it according to Mimms.”