Chapter Eight

Aaron looked at his grandmother, aghast. How had she worked it out so fast? She hadn’t been at Lady Crystal’s talk, though she had just returned from Edinburgh yesterday. Then he remembered the older lady with the fan, Lady Hamilton, sitting in the front seat of Sir Walter Scott’s salon. He knew she was a friend of his grandmother.

“Desire?” asked his father, scowling at the dowager. “What the devil are you talking about? Why are you raising such a lewd subject at my table in front of Lady Crystal? Do you mean to shock her away? Is it not enough you were rude to one of the suitable lassies I had in mind for Lyle? You told her there was madness in the family.”

“There is madness in that family,” the Dowager Duchess said.

“I had to deeply apologize to her father, a rather fractious lord. It was very embarrassing. And what you said to Lady Prunella was unforgiveable.” He took a savage bite of his biscuit, munched on it, sucked in a deep breath, and began coughing.

The dowager opened her mouth to speak, clearly thought better of it, and closed her lips.

Lomond emitted a great rattling sound that seemed to emanate from his throat, and his eyes widened.

“Do you need assistance, dear?” the duchess asked, her voice high with alarm, a frown creasing her brow as he continued to cough.

“I…can’t…breathe,” his father said, his voice hoarse between coughing fits.

Aaron poured a glass of wine to clear his father’s throat, leaped to his feet, and offered it to his father, but it was too late. His father abruptly stood and leaned on the table for support as he wheezed, his chest heaving in and out, his eyes bulging in desperation.

“Here, Lomond,” Aaron brought the glass to his father’s lips. The duke took it, but it tumbled from his fingers as he clutched his throat.

“My dear, what is it?” the duchess asked, her voice shrill. “What’s the matter?” She rose from her chair as Lomond’s facial color grew mottled, a strangled breath coming from him.

“What the devil is happening? Your lips are swelling.” Was it poison? Aaron grabbed his father by the shoulders, looking him full in the face, but the duke’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed against him. Aaron wrapped his arms around his father’s torso, lowering him onto the carpet.

A rasping sound emitted from the duke’s chest.

“He’s obviously choking,” Lady Crystal cried. She jumped out of her seat and joined him on the floor. “Turn him on his side, my lord,” she said, her voice authoritative. “I know what to do.”

Aaron did as she asked, instinctively trusting her. She checked inside Lomond’s mouth, then began thumping his father on his back with her small fist. Her actions were instantly effective. The duke’s whole body slumped as a peanut dislodged from his windpipe and rolled onto the carpet. A moment later, he gasped down a huge breath.

“Thank you,” Aaron muttered, grateful for her intervention, angry at himself for not thinking quicker. His father’s strange mottled color and swelling lips had led him to a different conclusion.

Lomond took in another large, shuddering gulp of air.

“That’s it,” he said, rubbing his father’s back, “take deep breaths.” The color started to return to his father’s cheeks.

Lady Crystal studied his father and looked back at him, a puzzled expression on her face. “His grace’s mouth is swollen. I fear it is more than a trapped nut.”

The duke struggled to rise.

“Let me assist you, sir.” Aaron helped his father to a sitting position, allowing the duke to rest his back against his torso, loosely wrapping his arms around him to hold him in place.

Lady Crystal leaped up from the floor, grabbed a napkin, wet it, and knelt in front of the duke, speaking to him with a reassuring voice, dabbing at the perspiration on his father’s brow. There was a gentleness he hadn’t noticed in her before, and she exuded a quiet calm. How grateful he was to have her by his side.

He could see the duchess crying in the background and horror gripping the grim-faced dowager as they looked on. His brother ordered a servant to call for the duke’s valet, who had been with Lomond over thirty years and would watch him with hawklike vigilance. The nearest physician was in Edinburgh, and there was no fetching him in the dark.

“The duke’s breath is returning,” she said to Aaron, “but I dinnae like the swelling of his tongue and lips.”

“Is it poison?” Aaron asked under his breath, holding his hand over his father’s heart, relieved that, although it beat quickly, the rhythm was strong.

“We need an apothecary to ascertain that,” Lady Crystal said, a worried frown creasing her brow. “I haven’t seen this before.”

He’d be damned if he could think of anyone who would want to harm his father. Lomond had assisted so many. He was far more loved than hated.

“We will look after you and see you right, your grace,” Lady Crystal said to his father. “I’m going to loosen your cravat and open your shirt so you can breathe better.” She untied his father’s cravat, throwing it onto the carpet, and nimbly undid the top of his shirt buttons.

“You’re very good in an emergency, Lady Crystal,” Aaron said, gratitude swelling his heart. She was a damned fine woman, quick-thinking and fast on her feet.

“Thank you. I’ve tended my wounded kin, and I learned what I could from the castle physic,” she said.

“You’re full of surprises,” he said. She wasn’t like any lady he’d ever met, with her bold ideas and manlike capability.

“I cannae play the helpless fool, as some women do,” she said softly, as though she could sense his thoughts.

She was the sort of woman a man could depend upon, full of common sense. Exactly the kind of woman he would enjoy spending time with.

Lomond grunted. “Up,” he croaked.

Lady Crystal raised herself and stood back as he and Will gripped the duke’s arms and helped him as he staggered to his feet.

God help him, Aaron loved his father and couldn’t bear to see him struck down. A seed of guilt grew in his chest at how often they’d argued over the subject of marriage.

The duke’s valet came in, took one look at the duke, and ran to him, his expression stricken. “Your grace, let me help you.”

Aaron stepped back, letting the valet and Will help Lomond out of the dining room. The duchess, the dowager duchess, and the remaining servants followed closely behind, leaving him alone with Lady Crystal.

“Thank you. You saved my father’s life. For that, I am deeply in your debt.” He pulled her close, needing her. From the way she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and sank against him, she needed to hold him, too. He didn’t care that his actions were inappropriate—all he could think of was that things could have gone so very differently if she hadn’t been there.

“You’ve saved me, too, remember?” she said, her voice soft and sweet. “The angry lords at Sir Walter’s would have torn me apart.” She looked up into his eyes, and he saw warmth and something else—attraction—sparkling in her emerald-colored eyes.

“No matter. I remain in your debt. I must admit, I’m feeling guilty that I have fought with Lomond on many occasions. I vow to be better to him in future,” he said.

“It’s true that a brush with disaster can open our eyes to what’s most important,” she said.

“Thank you for your kindness. And for your courage to help. Not many women would have done so.” His father had nearly died in front of him, and he could still feel the shock of it coursing through his thundering heart.

A footman came into the room, and they broke apart. All Aaron wanted was to stay in her arms, but he had a matter to settle first.

“Send the chef to me immediately,” he told the footman, determined to get to the bottom of the duke’s collapse. When the servant left, he turned back to Lady Crystal. “I must question the chef.”

“How long has he served your house?” she asked.

“He is new. Hired by the duchess at great expense.”

Several minutes later, the chef came in, his face bleached, his eyes wide with fear. He bowed low, waiting to be addressed.

“His grace collapsed and lay on the edge of death.” Aaron snatched up a biscuit. “He couldn’t breathe after eating this.”

The man started to tremble. “I dinnae understand, my lord. I ate a biscuit myself and felt no consequence.”

Aaron closed the distance between them, looking down at the man. “Tell me now if it is poison. I’ll flay the skin off your body if you lie.”

“I’d eat poison myself before harming his grace,” the man cried out. The chef grabbed a biscuit off the table and bit into it, crumbs falling on the floor as he quickly chewed and swallowed.

Lady Crystal picked one up, too, and smelled it.

“Don’t eat that,” Aaron ordered. He couldn’t bear to see her succumb like his father. Aaron grabbed the man by the collar and hauled him up. “I’ll have you arrested if anything happens to my father.”

Tears sprouted from the chef’s eyes and rolled down his face. “I admire his grace, my lord. I didnae wish to harm him, merely to delight his senses. The peanuts are new and all the rage among the ton. I thought his grace would enjoy them.”

“Stop it, Lord Lyle,” Lady Crystal said. “Can’t you see the man is terrified?”

Aaron turned to her in surprise, not used to having his authority challenged, especially by a woman. “I mean to get to the bottom of this,” he said through gritted teeth.

“And you will, I’m sure, but the poor man is clearly telling the truth. He’s freely eaten the substance you claim is poisoned. Let him be. He cannae do more to clear his name.” She bit into the biscuit and chewed it before he could knock it from her fingers. She was either brave or mad.

He dropped the chef’s collar, ignoring the man’s blubbering, and closed the arm’s-length distance to confront Lady Crystal. “Are you insane? Spit out the biscuit immediately.”

She stared at him boldly and swallowed, putting her hands on her hips. “Why do you not eat one yourself and put the matter to rest? Or are you afeard?”

The gall of her. He snatched a biscuit off the table and bit into it, surprised by the delicious buttery flavor as it melted on his tongue. He waited. Nothing happened. He turned back to the chef, not wanting the man to see him bested by a mere lassie. “That will be all. Return to the kitchen.”

The trembling man backed out of the room, bowing low as he did so.

“Since when do you question my authority in my own house in front of my servants?” Aaron asked, fury bubbling in his veins. He wanted to put her over his knee and spank her until she begged him to stop.

And damn, if the thought didn’t arouse him…

“Since you’re too stubborn to realize when you’re wrong and are frightening a man who cannae defend himself. Let me spell something out for you very clearly, my lord. I’m not yours to command, and I never will be.”

With that, she strode out of the dining room, leaving him gasping in outrage.