The bell rang stridently.
“At this hour, I’d wager that is Mr. Martin,” said James, walking toward the stairs.
Cecilia looked toward the stairs as James lightly ran up them, then over at Dot. She wanted to speak to the Bow Street agent and to Charwood again; however, she did not want to abandon her housemaid.
“If my lady could send Nate down to me, he can help me get Dot to her room,” Rani said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, madam. I stay with her, watch her. Krishan sleeps through the night. But she be fine.” She placed a hand on her heart. “In my heart, I know,” she said solemnly.
“All right,” Cecilia said. She felt guilty for leaving, but Rani would be of more benefit to Dorothy than she would.
“Nate, please go to the kitchen to help Rani take Dorothy to her room,” Cecilia said when she reached the entrance hall.
“What happened to Dot?” he asked.
Cecilia had not realized that despite the flurry of excitement, not everyone knew what had been going on. “She drank some bad chocolate Mr. Charwood made for Miss Rangaswamy.” When he looked like he had more questions, Cecilia cut him off. “Not now. Please, go assist Miss Rangaswamy.”
“Yes, my lady,” Nate said, and went down the hall to the stairs.
Cecilia walked to the library. Only one muffled voice came through the door. She leaned closer to the door, then smirked at herself. Why was she eavesdropping? She should just go in!
She pushed the double doors open as Billy finished telling Mr. Martin what had happened. She was glad to have missed a repeat of the gruesome details. It would hit her too hard to be reminded that might have been Dorothy’s fate.
Everyone looked at her as she entered.
“How is she?” asked Lewis.
“Miss Rangaswamy gave her charcoal in water to fight the poison, but she doesn’t believe she drank enough to poison her.”
Lewis looked over to where Charwood sat in a chair by the desk, his shoulders slumped, his head down. “It looks like you will escape the hangman’s noose, Mr. Charwood,” he said brutally.
His head flew up. “I didn’t know!” Charwood protested.
“You may not have intended to kill her, but you did intend her malicious harm,” James said harshly. “My God, man, why?”
Mr. Charwood looked up, tears streaking his long face. “Because of my brother,” he said brokenly.
“I don’t understand,” said Cecilia as she crossed the room to stand next to James. He wrapped his arm around her to pull her close to him.
Mr. Charwood sobbed and wiped his eyes with his handkerchief. “Chester was in the East India Army. He loved India. He made many Indian friends, but they killed him!”
“His friends killed him?” James asked.
“His best friend betrayed him to the Nepalese. Three days they tortured him before he died. My little brother,” he said bitterly. “Those Indians cannot be trusted! My new friend Mr. Gray, who gave me the powder, has lived in India. He warns they are devious. Many of us discuss this at the pub together and agree.”
“What does this Mr. Gray look like?” Lewis asked.
“Tall man. Neatly dressed like one of the city clerks. Wears gray a lot. When I teased him about the sameness of his attire, he laughed. Said, why not? His last name is Gray, and he had gray eyes, he says as he gets older his hair is going gray, as is his mustache and beard. Might as well dress all in gray. Said it was his own little joke.”
“The Gray Man,” Billy whispered.
“What’s that?” James asked.
Billy looked over at him. “One time that be wot Mr. Peasey called him an’ laughed. Said ’twer da best joke.”
There was a tap on the parlor door, and Rani peeked in. “May I come in?” she asked.
