Page 29 of The Ladies Road Guide to Utter Ruin (The Ill-Mannered Ladies #2)

29

Overnight the rain stopped and I’d had the rather obvious realization that Evan and I would be riding to Blackburn to face a man who might be a murderer. Admittedly it was a late realization, mainly because all I had seen ahead was a possible pathway to exoneration for my love. But if Dr. Lawrence had killed once, then perhaps he could kill again.

On that sobering thought, when Tully arrived to open the curtains, I asked her to sew the sheath of my silver knife into the sleeve of my riding habit. She met the request with her usual equanimity and got to work. On the face of it, the operation should have been straightforward, but it took both of us some time to figure out the engineering of easy access. As Tully remarked, it would help no one if I drew my weapon and sliced open my own artery on the way out.

Thus, when I finally walked into the bright morning room, Julia, Charlotte, the Ermine, and Evan were already seated at the table. Porty and Mr. Ellis-Brant, I was promptly told by Charlotte, had already finished their repast and gone to view some rain damage on a tenant’s farm, and Mrs. Carter and Miss Dashwood were taking trays in their rooms.

“I am sure an unmarried lady never took breakfast in her room here before, Charlotte,” Mrs. Ellis-Brant said archly.

“The breakfast trays were my suggestion,” Charlotte said, quashing any further comment.

The morning meal was laid out on the sideboard: I picked up a plate and investigated the offerings as a footman lifted each silver cloche, deciding upon glazed ham, a hard-boiled egg, cheese, and bread. With my plate so laden, I took my seat at the table.

“Did you wish for The Times , Lady Augusta?” Charlotte asked.

“No, I would like to start riding as soon as I have finished breakfast,” I said. “If that suits you, Mr. Talbot?”

“It does, indeed,” Evan said.

He had a pile of ham on his plate and was addressing it with vigor. I liked sitting across from him, the ordinariness of taking breakfast together. I knew we dealt well together in times of crisis, and we had built a certainty around that relationship, but what about a conventional life? Would we deal just as well taking breakfast together every morning ad infinitum? I pulled myself up; was a conventional life with Lord Evan Belford what I really wanted? Could I really relinquish my independence? I had not thought much beyond the struggle for Evan’s exoneration, but if we were eventually successful and a proposal made, it was not going to be a straightforward matter. At least not for me. A woman lost not only all her assets within a marriage, but also her individual identity and, to a disturbing degree, the ability to steer her own life. A troubling dilemma.

“I do hope you enjoy your ride, Lady Augusta,” Charlotte said, pulling me from my thoughts. She dabbed at her mouth with her serviette. “If you are finished, Emelia, I would like to start upon our belated visits. I have ordered the gig to come round.”

“Of course,” the Ermine said, casting me a knowing look as the footman pulled back her chair.

“Will you be out all day, Mr. Talbot?” Charlotte asked, adding a little edge to her tone.

“I believe so,” Evan said.

“I have arranged Callista for you to ride, Lady Augusta,” Charlotte said. Our eyes met fleetingly; Callista was one of her best, with excellent stamina and good speed. With some care she would manage the distance to and from Blackburn.

“Thank you, Lady Davenport.”

With one last lingering look at Evan, Charlotte departed. The Ermine followed, her own last look directed at me and full of smug collusion. I smiled conspiratorially over the rim of my coffee cup. I suspected Emelia Ellis-Brant had never had help in her meddling before and she was delighting in a comrade in harm. Although I did not like the woman, it was, in truth, a little sad.

“You may go now, thank you,” I said to Hanford, the butler, dismissing him and the three footmen.

With bows, they left the room.

As soon as the door closed and we were alone, Julia sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Thank goodness Emelia is gone. Her voice is so…so shrill.” She took her gold pillbox from her lap. “Last night’s guests were rather unexpected: Captain Morland and his lieutenant. I was so strained throughout the whole meal.”

I had already discussed the evening with my sister, after we had retired to bed, but clearly she still had some residual fear.

Evan looked up from his ham. “I agree, it was a difficult meal, but I have now spent an entire evening with them—including an extended after-dinner port session—and they have not questioned my identity.”

“The captain is not stupid, though,” I said. “I think it best to avoid him.”

Evan nodded his agreement. “I cannot foresee meeting him again.”

“How long do you think it will take you to find Dr. Lawrence?” Julia asked, flicking open the box lid and tapping out one of the bright blue pills.

“I would say we will get to Blackburn in under four hours,” Evan said, eyeing the pill in her cupped hand. “May I ask, is that a blue mass tablet?”

“Yes,” Julia said, then added quickly, “Prescribed by Dr. Thorgood.”

“Does Dr. McLeod concur with that prescription?”

Julia looked pointedly across at me. “I am not Dr. McLeod’s patient,” she said crisply. “Nor am I yours, Mr. Talbot.” She placed the tablet in her mouth and, with a swift swig of tea, swallowed it.

Evan subsided. He recognized an explosive subject when he heard one. “If all goes as it should, we will be back for dinner,” he said.

“What if you are not?” Julia demanded, her tone overly forceful.

“Then we will be late,” I said. “We will make an excuse. Do not worry.”

“Of course I will worry.” She drew a shaking breath. “I beg your pardon. I am being as shrill as Mrs. Ellis-Brant. I am still feeling a little worn down by the travel.”

“It is my fault. I pushed us too hard. I fear Lady Hester has suffered from our speed too.”

Evan nodded. “I saw my sister and Miss Grant this morning—Miss Grant sent a note to meet them in the garden as they walked. I told them about the visit from Lord Brummell and Lord Alvanley and, as you can imagine, Hester and Miss Grant are extremely uneasy. I have asked them to endure for another day and then we will take steps to find them a permanent safe haven.”

“I think we could depend on Mr. Brummell’s discretion, but I am not sure about Lord Alvanley. Has he ever met Hester?”

“According to Hester, they have met once or twice,” Evan said. “Who knows if he would remember, but we cannot take the chance.”

“Where do you propose to find this safe haven?” I asked. “Out of England?”

“I think it must be so,” he said slowly. “Even if today proves fruitful, our brother will not politely stop looking for Hester while I attempt to exonerate myself.”

I sensed Julia’s eyes upon me; the question of what I would do if he really left this time was palpable between us. But I still had no answer for Julia or Evan, or even myself.

“Would you check on them during the day, Lady Julia?” Evan added. “A friendly face would no doubt calm their nerves.”

“Of course,” Julia said. “But you both must take care. If this Dr. Lawrence did, indeed, kill Mr. Sanderson, then you are dealing with a murderer.”

Beneath the table, I touched the reassuring length of knife and sheath stitched into my sleeve. “I know, but we are prepared.”

“I will not let anything happen to your sister,” Evan said.

“Like getting stabbed?” Julia said dryly. I opened my mouth to protest, but she waved away the necessity. “Just do not get hurt. Either of you. My nerves cannot take it.”

“We are only speaking to the man,” I said, glancing at Evan. “I am sure we will be safe.”

Of course, I could not promise such a thing and Julia knew it. There was only one certainty in the situation ahead, and that was that I trusted Evan with my life. I had already done so on at least three occasions.

Mind you, all things being equal, it would probably be better if we did not test that certainty quite so often.

···

I looked up at the sky. Cloudy but no sign of rain—a blessing for such a long journey. We were making good time, the horses ready for the lengthy ride, and the road reasonably dry and in good repair. So far, we had not met anyone else traveling along it, although a few miles from Charlotte’s estate we had seen a couple crossing a field in some haste, the woman clad in a country cloak of scarlet and the man pulling her along by the hand. I had suggested secret lovers. Evan had laughed and said they would have a hard time finding a haystack at this time of year, which had made my imagination leap back to that alleyway in Covent Garden.

I glanced across at him, his body moving with relaxed grace in time to the horse’s gait in an undulating rhythm, the strong line of his thigh close to mine. I hurriedly looked forward again; my mind, it seemed, was determined to turn everything he did into some kind of carnal distraction.

It did not help that we had, for some time, ridden in heavy silence, my awareness of his body beside mine growing with every mile. Whereas his attention seemed firmly fixed ahead, brow furrowed in thought.

What had prompted such inwardness? Had it been something I said?

I picked over my memory of our conversation; it had mainly been about the interview ahead: what we might discover and the steps we might take afterward, namely, a petition to the courts for a pardon or even an overturning of the original judgment. Perhaps it was the possibility of exoneration that had silenced him. Or maybe he was thinking upon the problem of Hester and where, exactly, we could find a safe haven. I had not brought it up myself; my mind had been going around in circles upon the subject for too long without any result. Besides, if the doctor provided information we could use, then surely Evan must stay in the country to pursue true justice.

I said as much, breaking the silence between us.

“There is that,” Evan conceded, “and I am not convinced Hester would survive a sea journey. Yet moving her from one situation to another in England will not keep her from my brother for long, nor me from Mulholland. I do not like it, but we must try to sail. Ireland would be the most obvious destination for its proximity, but there are too many of our acquaintances there. I think it must be Sweden. They are not allied with Bonaparte and we could live in obscurity.”

Sweden. Good God, so far away. And through the dangers of Napoleon’s Europe.

“I will come with you,” I said abruptly.

Finally, a decision, dragged from me along a path of anticipated loss so intense it took my breath away, and bringing as much pain as it did resolution. Could I really leave Julia? Yet I wanted to go. I wanted to be with Evan. With him, I was truly myself. A self that was better. I could not give that up—or him. And if that meant leaving England, then so be it.

Then I realized my announcement had been met with silence.

He was looking at me, but there was no glad smile upon his face, or even a smile at all. “That is, if you wish me to accompany you,” I said. Good God, did he not want me to go?

“Tell me—” he began.

I braced myself.

“Did the HMS Triumph and HMS Phipps make the newspapers here two years ago?”

Not the direction I was expecting.

“The Triumph ?” I echoed. Why was he talking of ships? Yet the name was familiar. I searched my memory. “They were involved in an accident, were they not?”

“Not as such,” he said. “Both ships salvaged a cargo of elemental mercury in kidskin bladders from a wrecked Spanish ship near Cádiz. However, when the bladders were taken on board, they ruptured and the mercury spread around the ships as both quicksilver and vapor. The sailors were struck down with tremors, nervous agitations, heart complaints, tooth loss, and even paralysis.”

“How awful.”

“Indeed. I read a medical article by the Triumph ’s surgeon and it concluded that it was the mercury vapor that caused the crew to fall ill. Not many subscribe to that conclusion, mind you. Mercury is the most popular cure for…” He stopped. “Well, for the French disease. For me, however, it sounds a warning bell.”

“Indeed,” I said. “Most interesting, but why are you telling me this?”

“Because your sister is taking blue mass pills, and they are made of mercury.”

For a second, I did not quite take his meaning. “But they are not vapor or quicksilver.”

“Even so, it is still the same element.”

The full import of his words finally landed upon me. “You think the pills are poisoning her?”

“If just breathing in mercury or touching it causes such illness, then what would ingesting it do?”

“Dear God.” I looked over my shoulder at the road we had just traveled, every impulse in me to turn and gallop back to Davenport Hall. “I must tell her.”

“You must. Thankfully she is only taking a tiny amount, but I think we have both already noticed changes in her demeanor: agitation and irritability.”

“Headaches and faintness too. Dear God, she has already taken today’s dose.” The knowledge clenched my innards.

“I know. Tell her when we return—she may listen to you, and I know young Dr. McLeod refuses to prescribe blue mass, so he may be able to add another voice.”

“So all of her deterioration could be those pills?” Part of me was appalled but another part held a sudden hope that Julia’s tumor was not actually worse at all.

“I cannot say with any certainty, but at the very least, I would say they are not helping her condition.” He leaned across and touched my arm, a gentle reassurance. “You cannot change what has gone before, but you can stop any more harm. And I think perhaps you will not wish to leave her.”

I stared at him, the same realization lodging in my chest like a howl. “I cannot leave. At least, not for the time being.”

“I know.”

I could not think upon that heartbreak hurtling toward me. Not yet. It was too much.

“Let us pick up our pace,” I said, and urged my horse into a trot. The sooner we got to Blackburn, the sooner I could return and destroy every blue mass pill in my sister’s possession.