Page 54 of A Whisper in the Shadows (Raven & Wren #4)

“That’s right,” Tilda said. “Let me show you to Albert.”

“I’d like to look at the biscuits when I’m finished examining him. Do you still have them?”

Tilda looked to her “sister.”

Mrs. Kilgore nodded. “I’ll fetch them whilst you’re in with Mr. Harwood.”

Leading Dr. Giles to the cupboard, Tilda motioned for him to enter.

The doctor leaned over Maxwell. “Has he been sleeping for a while?”

“Not terribly long. We spoke briefly, but he was tired. His color actually looks a little better.”

The doctor poked and prodded at Maxwell, who finally opened his eyes. He blinked several times. “Giles?”

“Yes. How are you feeling, Mr. Harwood?”

Maxwell’s brow furrowed. “Who’s Harwood?”

Tilda tensed. Had Maxwell forgotten their disguises due to being ill?

The doctor glanced at Tilda. “It’s not unusual to suffer from delusions.” He’d set his bag on the floor and opened it to retrieve a stethoscope. He pulled down the bedclothes and listened to Maxwell’s chest.

“What are you doing?” Maxwell asked. His words were slurred, making him sound as if he were inebriated or half asleep.

“Just making sure you’re all right,” Dr. Giles said cheerfully. He continued listening to Maxwell a moment longer, then returned the stethoscope to his bag. “How are you feeling now?”

“Tired.”

The doctor asked Maxwell about his symptoms, and it seemed he was doing better. He didn’t need to run to the privy, nor was he feeling nauseated. Tilda relaxed slightly. Perhaps he hadn’t been poisoned after all.

As Maxwell’s eyes began to close again, the doctor leaned down and sniffed Maxwell’s neck.

He straightened and turned to face Tilda.

“It’s arsenic poisoning. But not a lethal amount.

In fact, I’d wager he vomited a good amount from his system, according to what your sister said.

He should be well enough in a day or two. ”

“Really?” Tilda sagged with relief. Only for a moment, however, as she realized someone had set out to hurt him—and Hadrian.

Giles inclined his head toward the kitchen. “I’d like to look at the biscuits now to see if I can determine if they are the source of the arsenic.”

“They have to be.” Tilda led the doctor back to the kitchen, where Mrs. Kilgore had set the basket of remaining biscuits on the worktable.

“How many did he eat?” Dr. Giles asked.

“Probably a half dozen,” Mrs. Kilgore replied, her eyes darkening with concern. “Is it poison?”

“Arsenic,” the doctor replied. “Though there can’t have been too much. Six biscuits could have been lethal. I wonder if the intent wasn’t to kill Mr. Harwood but just to make him ill. Thankfully, he’ll recover.”

Mrs. Kilgore exhaled. “I’m so glad. My husband would be—” She snapped her mouth closed and her eyes rounded briefly. She’d clearly forgotten herself. “My husband would have been upset. I’m a widow,” she added.

But the doctor wasn’t paying much attention to her, fortunately. He was studying the biscuits. “I can’t really tell if these contain arsenic. We’d have to feed them to someone or an animal, such as a rat, to see the effects and know for sure. You’re certain these are the source?”

“They have to be,” Mrs. Kilgore said. “There’s no arsenic in the house.”

“Did Harwood eat at the pub last night, perhaps?” the doctor asked.

Tilda shook her head. “I know he did not.”

Dr. Giles frowned at the biscuits. “I’ve seen that pineapple stamp before.”

“Do you know who made them?” Tilda asked, her pulse quickening.

“It may be a common stamp, but I’ve seen biscuits like these at an Amicable Society meeting,” Dr. Giles said. “Mrs. Draper has brought them on a few occasions.”

Draper. Tilda had thought of Mr. Draper as one of the few people who was aware of Hadrian’s and Maxwell’s appointments. But why would he want to poison them?

“Why would Mrs. Draper send arsenic biscuits to your husband?” the doctor asked, echoing Tilda’s thoughts.

“They arrived yesterday with a note congratulating my husband and my brother,” Tilda replied. “It wasn’t signed, so we’ve no idea who sent them.”

Dr. Giles shook his head. “I can’t think why Mrs. Draper would want to poison your husband or your brother.”

Tilda recalled Mrs. Burley wondering why Mr. Draper hadn’t been asked to fill in as the third administrator instead of Maxwell.

Her reasoning was that Draper had been involved with the society since the beginning, but then she’d gone on to say he was soft-spoken and perhaps not the best person for the position.

But Draper was clearly very invested in the society. Indeed, he’d been quite zealous about it at the meeting last night. He and Mrs. Atkins were a pair given their obsession with the society.

Tilda’s blood chilled. What if Draper had wanted a position and was upset when Maxwell and Hadrian, who were newcomers, were appointed? She looked at the doctor. “Do you think Draper could be capable of such a thing?”

“Draper? Or Mrs. Draper?” Dr. Giles blinked.

“I’m struggling to imagine it. But this stamp is the same as what Mrs. Draper has used before.

” A deep frown creased his features. “Draper was very outspoken when Gilbert Cardy died and we found out he’d been admitted as a member despite being ill.

Draper insisted the society pay out a benefit.

We explained that it wasn’t possible, that even if Cardy had been admitted appropriately, benefits are only payable after one year. No one is eligible yet.”

“Did that satisfy Draper?” Tilda asked.

“It seemed to, but he was still upset on the Cardys’ behalf. Several people were.”

“I need to know if he was upset enough to act,” Tilda said, thinking that Hadrian was with Draper now. And if Draper or his wife had sent arsenic-laden biscuits, what else were they capable of?

Dr. Giles lifted his hands. “I don’t know.” His features arrested, then he drew in a deep breath. His eyes widened before he settled his focus on Tilda. “I just remembered that Draper had been friendly with Eaton. I’d seen them together a few times.”

Tilda’s heart was now pounding. “I’m going to Draper’s house.”

“I’ll go,” Dr. Giles said. “You should stay here, just in case.”

Tilda ignored the doctor’s words and started toward the stairs. She wasn’t going to stay here and not ensure Hadrian was safe.