Chapter Thirty-Four

Griff Spencer and Henry Johnson rode up the drive of Bonne Vista in mid-afternoon. They tethered their mounts to an iron hitching post in front. Sommers met them at the front door.

“Mr. Spencer…”

Before the butler could say refuse them admittance, Griff said, “I brought Dr. Johnson along with me, Sommers. I learned from a groom before I left here yesterday that your mistress has not seen a physician. It is time she did. Have our horses seen to.”

Griff pushed past the butler with the physician following at his heels and started up the central staircase.

“But…but, Mr. Spencer…”

“You needn’t show us up. I know the way.”

The butler drew in a deep breath, silently thanking the Almighty. But he knew his duty and went to tell the countess that Mr. Spencer and a physician from London had come to treat young Lady Dulcina.

When Griff paused at Dulcie’s room, he hesitated. He checked to see if the burly footmen Agina had brought to toss him out yesterday were anywhere in sight. He tapped lightly on the door, then entered soundlessly, with the physician following him into the room. There was no one in the room but Dulcie. Griff turned the key in the lock. The men silently removed their outerwear. Griff went to the windows to draw the heavy curtains aside all the way and let in some light. The day was quickly losing the winter’s afternoon sun.

Dr. Johnson approached the bed, setting his physician’s bag on the carpet. He appraised the sleeping girl in the bed for several moments before speaking. “Griff, her color is not good, her lips are very pale, her chest movement shallow. She is having trouble breathing. I am afraid your fiancée is quite ill. I need to examine her thoroughly.”

Griff sucked in a low gasp of pain and fear. “I may be shot for this,” he muttered. “But do what you must, Doctor, I shall suffer the consequences.”

“Take yourself across the room and turn your back.”

“Aye.” He did what he was told.

Dulcie roused when the physician gently pulled up her gown. Very softly, he said, so as not to frighten her, “I am Dr. Johnson, Lady Dulcina,” he announced himself. “I am here with Griffith Spencer to help you. But to do so, I must examine you and decide the cause of your distress.” He met her eyes, reading the apprehension he recognized when he was asked to examine a female patient. “Will you allow me to do that, milady? It is for your own good and the babe’s.”

Dulcie exhaled, shuddering. She nodded her chin, allowing him to undress her. The physician was gentle with his hands and his instruments. He examined intimate places no one but Griff Spencer had ever touched.

What seemed moments later, someone jiggled the lock, followed by several loud, insistent raps on the wooden door outside in the hall. One notable voice and several more were heard. “Griffith Spencer! Open this door immediately, or I’ll have you strung up! Who do you think you are making yourself free with my stepdaughter?”

“I hope I’m saving her life, Countess!” he answered, loud enough that she could hear him clearly. “What hellish mischief have you done to devil my fiancée, Countess?”

“If you don’t open this door immediately, I will have the door broken down and a magistrate summoned to lock you up! You’ll stay incarcerated there for eons! Do as I say now!”

“I suggest you calm down and listen to me, instead.” Griff leaned closer and spoke through the thickness of the oak “I know more about you and your conniving ways than you think, Countess. Hear what I’m saying. The London constabulary divulged certain information about your lurid background to a friend of mine. I plan to send all that muck to every newspaper in London. You will never live it down, Countess. When I am done with you, you will be given the cut direct by all your acquaintances, never spoken to or allowed near a ballroom, nor invited to an afternoon tea or anything else, for the rest of your shameful life. Take my word on it!”

Griff heard her indrawn breath through the heavy oak. “Arrgh! I should have known you are the same damn blackmailing beast your father was. But, you wouldn’t dare! I never let Boswell get the better of me!”

My father? What did she have to do with my father’s death?

Griff suppressed more questions, but went on to warn her with undisguised animosity, “Just try me, Countess. In the meantime, Dulcie needs a physician. I brought someone from London to treat her.”

When he didn’t add anything more, there was dead silence outside Dulcie’s bedchamber.

Inside, Dulcie was weeping embarrassed tears by the time Dr. Johnson finished his thorough internal and external examinations. He readjusted her gown, replaced the bedclothes to cover her newly slender form, and squeezed the fingers of one of her hands to reassure her.

“Lady Dulcina,” he began. “I will do what I can to get you well, but you must help me. Will you do that?”

She managed to meet his kind eyes and nodded weakly.

Griff had turned away from the door, his worried gaze pinned on Dulcie in the big bed. He took several steps closer to read the physician’s expression. “Well?”

“Lady Dulcina is not breeding, Griff. She has been poisoned.”

* * * *

The physician took Griff’s arm and turned him away from the bed. The men spoke in low voices so their conversation couldn’t possible reach Dulcie’s ears.

“I’m not sure what she ingested, but it’s been going on for a while, I believe. Probably tiny amounts that sickened her, but didn’t kill her quickly.”

“My God, the bloody woman is a monster!”

“Maybe so, but first things first. I shall have to leave, I’m afraid. I’m needed at the hospital. But you must remain here and stand guard over anything Lady Dulcina drinks or eats.”

“You mean I’m to be a guinea pig? A king’s food taster?”

“No. I don’t want you falling into the same trap. I suggest you remain in the kitchen whenever your fiancee’s food is prepared. Keep a weather eye out if you suspect anything odd taking place there. You must be watchful. And you, alone, should bring the tray to her so that nothing is slipped in on the way from the kitchen to her room.”

“I’m also to be her lady’s maid, you mean?”

“That will do for now, too.” The physician had the conscience to laugh.

“Have a cot set up in Lady Dulcina’s room, and sleep here also. Lock the door at night so no one can enter.”

Griff nodded in agreement. “Yes, of course. Whatever you think should be done, will be done.” He hesitated. “Will she get well, Doctor?”

“I hope to heaven she will, but I can’t be certain. It will take time for the poison to leach out of her system. Get fluids into her. Don’t force it on her, but impress upon her that she must drink it in order to get better. You’ll know if she is better when she comes out of the fog she is in and begins to look around, and listens to bits of conversation. Then perhaps, you can breathe easy, my boy.”

“There is nothing you can give her to speed her recovery?”

“No, only your watchfulness. Of course, a few heartfelt prayers may help, too.”

Griff and the physician met Sommers waiting outside Dulcie’s bedchamber.

“Will Lady Dulcina get better, Mr. Spencer? The staff is very worried.”

“We don’t know, Sommers, but I hope so. In the meantime, I need to ask your help.”

“Of course.”

Griff spelled out his and the physician’s necessities. “Dr. Johnson will stay the night, and I require a cot set up for myself in Lady Dulcina’s chamber.”

“Mr. Spencer! That’s quite improper!”

“Do you wish your lady to recover?”

Of course, but the countess…”

Griff was used to ordering subordinates about. “Just do it, man, and don’t argue.”