Chapter Thirty-Eight

“You mean Lady Dulcina was poisoned?”

“I believe so, Rand. But, by whom I’m not sure.”

“What then?”

“It could have been simply a stupid error.”

Rand twisted the stem of the balloon glass in his fingers, swirling the brandy, his forehead rippling with deep grooves. “Were servants let go?”

“No. Firing staff is none of my business, Rand. This is not my home, nor am I a favored guest at Bonne Vista. I barged in here with Dr. Johnson, to help Dulcie if I could.” He paused, took a deep swallow. “And almost killed her instead.”

“What? I can’t believe that. How could that happen?”

“I’m certain the poison was in the sugar, Rand. And I was instructed by Dr. Johnson that Dulcie be coaxed to drink as much liquid as possible to flush out of her system whatever is making her sick. He didn’t know what poison it was, but he believed she ingested something vile and dangerous.”

Griff’s taut smile turned into a grimace. “I’m afraid Dulcie has a sweet tooth. She asked me to put huge teaspoonfuls of sugar into her tea when I was fixing it for her. All I was doing, dammit, Rand, was adding more poison.”

Griff shook his head and gazed across to his friend. “If no one had mentioned rat poison…or the problem of rodents pilfering in the storeroom…well, Dulcie may be dead by now.”

“Bloody hell!” The viscount exclaimed, quite aghast.

Griff jumped up from where he sat, holding onto his glass. “I’m afraid I have a sneaking suspicion this was one of the countess’s nefarious schemes. She’s a wicked, unscrupulous woman, Rand. I should have known better to get mixed up with her, but…”

“And? Why so?”

“I can’t prove anything, but I suspect she…or her lady’s maid, Emma Trent, put the poison in Dulcie’s sugar bowl when it was brought up on her tray with her pots of tea. I think the sugar masked the taste.”

“Holy Hell! You mean the countess actually planned to murder her stepdaughter?” Rand’s eyebrows rose to meet the deep wrinkles forming on his forehead. “But why?”

“For Dulcie’s sizeable inheritance. Why not? The countess is very greedy and I think, vicious. From the information you gleaned from Whitehall, we know she grew up poor and has no conscience, Rand. She…well…forced me…to seduce Dulcie. I confess I was willing. I wanted a rich wife. You didn’t know she is Dulcie’s guardian until she reaches her majority, did you? That’s why Agina wanted the marriage performed quickly—and in haste.”

“No. I don’t believe it’s known that the countess is Lady Dulcina’s guardian, although now it makes sense. I assume Dulcie has no other close family?”

“None that I know of. A distant cousin in Yorkshire inherited the title from the earl. I believe the countess planned to hold the entire matter over my head, keep me under the cat’s paw, shall we say, even after I married Dulcie.”

“But—but you were fighting on the Continent, Griff. You weren’t available to marry the girl.”

“As I said, Rand, Agina is devious. She could have arranged a proxy marriage.”

“Aha! I’ve heard of that, but not very often.”

“I thought of it while I was lying in the hospital. It was why I was so anxious to leave London and get to Surrey so I could speak with Dulcie. So much of the time when I was wounded, I was in such a haze, that I didn’t know if we were married or not. But when I found how sick Dulcie was, I assumed the countess hadn’t yet tried the blasted trick of a proxy marriage.”

Griff walked to a low chest, picked up the brandy decanter, refilled both snifters for them and paced the earl’s small study.

“If Dulcie doesn’t marry, the countess gets a small pension, not nearly as much as if her stepdaughter had married. The bulk of what’s spelled out in the earl’s will goes to Dulcie…if she is still breathing the day after her birth date.”

“Damnation, Griff! From what you said, the girl must’ve been getting the poison fed to her for weeks, maybe longer, a little bit at a time until she sickened! Well, damn my eyes, Spencer! We both know of the countess’s background as a brothel keeper. The woman may very well been involved somewhere in your father’s death.”

“And, possibly, the Earl of Eberley’s early demise from a heart seizure,” Griff added with a deepening scowl. “I know for certain that she or her lady’s maid dosed Dulcie and me with aphrodisiacs so that we would fall into lust. Why wouldn’t she stoop to use something lethal on others?”

* * * *

Griff heard strident voices coming from outside the hall while Rand and he were discussing the countess and her lady’s maid’s actions. Abruptly, the study door swung open. The countess stood there, her blue eyes blazing. Sommers had his hands in the air, unable to stop her. Trent backed up the countess.

“What right have you to countermand my orders?” Agina shrieked. “What right have you to be in this house at all?”

Agina and Trent didn’t enter the room, but blocked the doorway.

Rand sprang to his feet and faced the countess beside Griff.

“I believe that is my right, Countess, since Dulcina is my betrothed,” Griff replied calmly.

“If that is the case, then you are still willing to marry the chit?”

“We never canceled our engagement, Countess.”

“Then prepare to face a preacher,” Agina blustered, haughtily. “You are to stay out of Dulcina’s room until I say so. I am still her guardian, and I’ve arranged for a special license drawn up in your names. Both the Reverend Carter and my solicitor will be here to see that the marriage takes place later today.” At that blunt announcement, the countess spun on her heels, and she and Trent marched up the stairs to the second storey, leaving Sommers red-faced and confused.

“What will you do now, Griff?” Rand asked, turning to his friend. “Will you marry the girl?”

“I can’t, Rand. Not this way, or the witch will get her wish.”