“No!” Sarah looked from Nate to Bridget, her eyes wild. “I don’t know. I wished it—I prayed for her to die!”
“You did more than wish, didn’t you, Sarah?” Nate said. “You gave her the wrong type of mushrooms, then you followed her and pushed her into the fountain.”
“No,” Sarah said. “I never did. The mushrooms always came from Mr. Harley or Lord Frederick. We kept them in a little sack in our room. Mr. Harley warned us not to pick our own. He said we might get the wrong ones and then we could die.”
“You knew exactly what to do then,” Nate said. “You knew what would kill her and then you did it.”
Sarah’s body trembled. “It’s true. I wished her dead and the devil made it happen.”
“You made it happen. You switched the mushrooms in the bag, didn’t you?”
“It weren’t fair!” Sarah cried. “When Lord Frederick started taking up with Lady Luxton, he stopped helping Mr. Harley. Abigail went with Mr. Harley every night. He seemed to forget all about me. That’s why Abigail got with child and not me. That’s why I wished her dead. I didn’t mean for her to die. But I prayed for it!”
Bridget swallowed. She could see that Nate was no longer listening. His face had turned as pale as the mist that hovered over the lake, and his lovely, dark-blue eyes had turned black.
“Did you say Lady Luxton?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
*
Nate’s heart racedas he made his way to the smoking room. He’d let Helen manipulate him once again. And she’d used Henry to do it—their son! A thought struck him.WasHenry his son? Or had Helen been sleeping with Frederick or another man while they were betrothed?What a fool I’ve been!He pushed open the door to the smoking room and burst inside.
“Good Lord, Squires! You almost handed me my death. What on earth is the matter?”
Nate went straight for the cigar box without taking off his jacket or slipping on a smoking robe. He picked out a cigar and held it between his trembling fingers—unable to bring it to his lips and light it.
“I say, are you unwell?” Frederick asked.
“No.” Nate wetted his lips, which had suddenly turned as dry as his throat. “I was just wondering. Have you made any strides in your plan with Lady Luxton?”
“My plans?” Frederick gave Nate a lopsided smile.
“Yes, you mentioned the other day that—” Nate coughed. His throat had dried again.
Frederick cocked his head. “What is it, Squires? Don’t tell me you still care for her. If I thought there was still something between you two, I would not have—”
“Don’t apologize. It’s nothing like that.”
“That’s a relief.” Frederick leaned back in his chair and inhaled his cigar.
Nate dropped his own cigar back in the box and went to pour himself a brandy. He felt sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t blame Frederick. After all, that man had only done what he’d said he was going to do, and he’d not protested at the time. It wasn’t Frederick’s fault that Helen had fooled him once again.
But he didn’t care about her so much as he did the child.
“She doesn’t love me, you know,” Frederick said as Nate sat down beside him with a brandy in hand. “She’ll never marry me. No, I’m only a diversion because she’s bored with her husband. But, she is beautiful so—”
Nate’s chest tightened. “I don’t think Helen is capable of loving anyone,” he said.
“You might be right.” Frederick nodded. He put his cigar to his lips and inhaled.
Nate waited until his friend had exhaled a thick stream of smoke before speaking again. “What about the child?”
“Are you asking who I think fathered the boy?”
Nate nodded, his heart drumming in his chest.
“I don’t think it’s Lord Luxton’s, I can tell you that much.” Frederick eyed Nate. “He could be yours. He’s the right age, and he has your coloring.”
“She swears he is mine.” Nate sipped his brandy.
