On the Sunday, two days after the ball, Sarah and Lizzie attended morning service at the abbey. When they came out of the church they found that the crowd had vanished. It was a bitterly cold day with a keen wind blowing. Most people hurried into the Pump Room, or disappeared into their carriages. Very few lingered in the open square. However, in spite of the straw and dust whipping up around them, Lizzie insisted on walking right round the abbey as far as the Parade Gardens, where she stood examining any person still lingering outside.
Sarah looked at her suspiciously. ‘Now what are you up to?’ When Lizzie gave her a stare of wide-eyed innocence, Sarah frowned. ‘I know these tricks of old. Surely you have not made an assignation with some young man?’
Lizzie tucked a gloved hand under Sarah’s arm. ‘Nothing so vulgar. I was merely expecting to see Richard. We had agreed to take a walk if the day was dry enough.’
‘But what about his brother?’ The question came out before she could stop herself. She cursed inwardly. It showed she was always thinking about him. ‘Come,’ she added hastily, ‘You cannot go for a walk in this chill wind. I am shivering already and my bonnet is threatening to blow away. Let us go into the Pump Room for shelter. Very likely you will find one or other of the Thatcham family in there.’
They did indeed find Sir Thomas in the entrance hall. It seemed he had been looking for them. After making his usual courteous and formal enquiries after their health, he announced, ‘My son has gone into the Pump Room. I believe he is looking for you, Miss Gardiner.’
‘Richard?’ asked Lizzie eagerly.
A shadow crossed Sir Thomas’s face. ‘No. He has remained at home. Gregory is in the Pump Room.’
‘Oh, but….’ Lizzie sounded put out. Her muff fell to the floor. When she rose from picking it up, her face was red. With a word of excuse, she curtsied to Sir Thomas and hurried away. Sarah watched in growing suspicion. Whatever Lizzie had planned with Richard, she was very upset at having her plans dashed.
Sir Thomas sighed as he watched her trip away. Sarah looked more closely. As always, she warmed to his old-fashioned charm and courtesy. In addition, he was so like his son in appearance. She knew that Greg would still make a handsome gentleman when he was older. Sir Thomas was still frowning into space. The lines on his face seemed more deeply carved this morning. His mouth was set in a grim line. Sarah wondered what could be troubling him. He seemed to have forgotten her presence so she cleared her throat. He started and turned his head towards her. She gave him a friendly smile. ‘I believe I heard that the gentlemen were going to a sparring match yesterday? Perhaps Richard is … indisposed after the event, sir?’
He gave her a long look from under his brows. Then he sighed again and his face relaxed slightly. ‘You must not be thinking that Richard drank too much at the event.’ He shook his head. The frown returned and he looked old and shaken. ‘Richard accepted a challenge to take part in the sparring. Afterwards, he was offered a drink of cider and it was very shortly after that that he became violently unwell.’
‘Do you mean he drank something contaminated?’
‘That is what he and his brother tried to make me believe.’ Sir Thomas looked at her almost in appeal. ‘But he has been so ill that I fear it was a deliberate attempt to poison him.’
Sarah was horrified. ‘But why would anyone do that? I cannot imagine that someone would want to harm him.’ Even as she spoke, a vision of Lord Percival’s angry face at the ball came to mind. She swallowed. Doubt shook her. Surely, even he would not go to such lengths as this? Sir Thomas was eyeing her narrowly.
‘It seems you have thought of something?’
Sarah schooled her face into a politely neutral expression. ‘I am simply shocked at the very idea. Pray tell me, sir, how is Richard now?’
His mouth twisted. ‘He is exhausted and in a great deal of pain.’
‘Let us hope he has purged himself of the poison. I will make a special tisane for him to drink if I can find the necessary plant. It is an old recipe my mother taught me, most effective at calming an irritated stomach.’ She smiled at him.
This time Sir Thomas managed to smile back. ‘Young lady, you have a sweet way with you. I am sure your remedy would help him. Thank you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘And now, let us find the others.’
‘I had to bring him out,’ Greg confided to Sarah and Lizzie a short while later. They were all watching Sir Thomas as he strolled round the Pump Room in conversation with a couple of his friends. ‘He was so distressed to think that anyone would make an attempt to harm Richard, he could not settle to anything. A turn or two around the Pump Room will divert his mind.’
Sarah gave him a very direct look. ‘One is tempted to suppose that someone in Bath is not well disposed towards your family.’
Greg rolled his eyes. ‘Our family and many others. But I do not care to see my father so worried.’
‘So you went to the fair’ – Lizzie frowned – ‘and Richard had a bout of fisticuffs with one of the men there—’
‘Yes,’ nodded Greg, ‘He likes sparring. He fought several bouts. Afterwards, of course, he was thirsty. There was a man there offering cider from a leather jar. A rough fellow, in a green frieze jacket—’ He stopped and looked as Sarah gave an exclamation of surprise.
‘Oh! Good heavens!’ She clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘How many times I meant to tell you. It was a man in a green jacket who push—’
Greg stopped her with a raised hand. His eyes flickered to Lizzie and back. Sarah bit her lip and nodded. ‘And when Lizzie and Richard went out driving in your curricle, they twice nearly ran into a man in a cart. He was wearing a green jacket.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ cried Lizzie. ‘He was very coarse and rude to us but he was the one driving badly.’
Greg was looking very thoughtful. ‘I will see what I can discover,’ he said, ‘but meanwhile I want you young ladies to be careful as well.’
Lizzie’s eyes grew as round as saucers. ‘But why? We have done nothing.’
Greg smiled at her. ‘Ah, but you are friendly with us. And whoever is trying to hurt us might consider that you are therefore also his enemy.’