Page 58 of The Duchess and the Beast
“I am sure it is nothing!” he shouted after Sebastian. “The flu, perhaps. You are hardly a physician for your immediate presence to be so important to her recovery!”
“I apologize, Ralph,” was all Sebastian could manage as he mounted his stallion. “Truly, I am. But I cannot stay.”
“And what of Simon?!” Ralph’s voice rose in anger. “The Dragoons, man! We owe him this—think of Jasper!” In a desperate attempt, he clutched the bridle of Sebastian’s horse, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation, hoping to make his friend see sense.
That gave Sebastian pause. The Royal Dragoons were more than a battalion of men to Sebastian, they were brothers in arms and there was no line he wouldn’t cross for any of them. And as to Jasper, Simon’s brother and his closest friend... well, Sebastian owed them both, he felt, and the guilt was enough that for a moment, he hesitated.
But then the image of the note flashed before his eyes—the memory of Virtue’s face, the thought of the unspeakable happening if he were too late, if he were never to see her again, and that was enough to push him through the guilt and kick his heels into his mount’s side.
“I am sorry, Ralph!” he called as he galloped away. “And I shall return when I have confirmed all is well! I promise!”
And so, he rode without stopping. Not for the bathroom. Not to eat. Not to rest his legs, despite the pain that radiated up them and through his spine. Late night turned early morning turned midday turned dusk turned evening turned to night again. He covered more than a day of travel in less than fifteen hours, knowing that God himself could not stop him.
All the while, that note played in his head.
Lady Virtue has fallen deathly ill. From what, I do not know. But she seeks your presence, Your Grace. She needs you now!
Sebastian could not say the hour when he finally arrived back at Greystone. Nearing midnight he guessed, though the dense cloud cover and absent moonlight cast the night in a perpetual darkness. He pushed his horse to the threshold, dismounting with such urgency that he scarcely allowed the creature to come to a stop before he was bounding up the steps to the castle’s front door, and kicking it open with the force of a knight storming a fortress.
“Virtue!” His call pierced the silence of the empty castle. Most of the staff would be abed by now. “Virtue! I am here!” He made for the steps, the pain in his legs and body unimportant.
Thankfully, Lucy appeared at the top of the steps—her expression aghast with shock at the sight of the Duke. “Your Grace! How did you—”
“Where is she?” Sebastian interrupted, his voice tight with urgency.
“In her bedchamber,” Lucy responded, descending the stairs to meet him halfway, only to turn back as Sebastian took the stairs two at a time in his haste. “The physician arrived late last night and has not left her side, and Mr. Albion left an hour ago for the village to bring back some equipment at his behest.”
“She is alive then?” he asked, not daring to consider the alternative.
“Yes. And recovering.”
He reached the top landing and started down the hall. He might have broken into a sprint if it wasn’t for how exhausted he was, how strenuous it was suddenly becoming to move his legs. “What happened?”
“We do not know,” Lucy explained as she hurried beside him, barely able to keep pace. “She was drinking the tea that wethought you had imported from China—and suddenly, she fell deathly ill.”
“The tea?” He came to an abrupt halt and turned on Lucy. “That I ordered from London? The Chinese tea?”
“The very same.”
A wave of nausea and dread washed over Sebastian... He reached out a hand and rested it on Lucy’s shoulder to stop himself from collapsing. The hallway spun about him and he felt he might be sick.This was his fault... he was the one who... it was he that...
“But that is just the thing, Your Grace!” Lucy hurriedly continued, sensing his distress. “Another package arrived the following day. Containing therealtea that you had imported.”
“Wh—what?” he stammered, not understanding.
“When it first arrived, we thought it was the tea we had been expecting. It came in a marked package, perfectly identical to the original import that arrived a day later, save for a few minor differences, and the contents... I couldn’t have known! I was the one who brewed it for her...” Lucy's voice broke, her lip trembling as guilt washed over her. “But the next day, more tea came, and that was when I knew...”
“Knew what?”
The maid’s face turned ashen. “That someone tried to poison her.”
Rageconsumed him. The likes of which Sebastian had never known. Such that he could feel the floor shake beneath his feet as he trembled. That the stone walls around him seemed to melt from the inferno that charred within him. This was no accident. No mere misfortune. It was a sinister, calculated assault!
“Virtue!” he cried again, turning on his heel and sprinting the rest of the way to her bedchamber.
Upon entering her chambers, the sight of Virtue lying so still, so pale, on her bed, nearly brought him to his knees. She lay on her back with her eyes closed, seemingly asleep if he hadn’t known better. Sebastian stumbled toward the bed, falling to his knees before reaching her, and then crawling the rest of the way until he was by her side.
“Virtue, dear...” he stammered, taking her hand in his. It was ice-cold. “Can you... can you hear me?”