“Well, congratulations, because you are about to lose both wife and babe—”
No. It couldn’t be. There had been too much death, and for her beloved Jane to be its next victim…the men’s arguing became unbearable. “Stop!” Bridget yelled.
The two men turned and looked at her in stunned silence.
“Jane has been poisoned. She mightdie!” She glared at the men, who seemed unable to comprehend her feelings.
“I don’t think she’s been given a lethal dose,” Dr. Elias said. “I believe she was given just enough to make her very ill—ill enough to end her pregnancy.”
Oh no!Bridget covered her trembling lips with her hand. She wanted to cry out. Poor Jane! Who would do such a thing?
Nate appeared to have an inkling. He strode forward and pulled open the chamber door. “Rose,” he said, “go and find Miss Jennings. Tell her Mrs. Harley is in desperate need of a cup of tea sweetened with plenty of sugar. Ask her if she’d be so kind to help you by preparing it herself and bringing it to Mrs. Harley’s room.” Then he shut the door and turned to Harley. “It’s best you go back to Braithwaite and fetch the magistrate.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rose returned tothe room several minutes later and reported that Miss Jennings would be up shortly with the tea. They all waited in silence for Miss Jennings to arrive. Bridget alternated between worrying about Jane, who lay groaning on the bed in apparent agony, and with her mind reeling about the possibility that shy, frail Miss Jennings could have committed these heinous killings.
It seemed incomprehensible.
Finally, a knock sounded on the door, and Rose went to open it.
“I have the tea.” Miss Jennings stepped inside, carefully carrying a teacup. “Made with extra love and care for poor Mrs. Harley. I do hope—” She looked up from the cup and stopped when she saw everyone, including the doctor, waiting for her. “What’s—oh, I didn’t realize—should I fetch more tea?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Nate said. “In fact, Mrs. Harley is too ill for tea. So why don’t you drink it instead?”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t!” Miss Jennings looked alarmed. “I don’t like sugar, you see. And I put three lumps in this cup,” she babbled nervously, her usual shy tone sounding strident and almost hysterical to Bridget’s ears. “It’s…it’s too sweet for me.”
“Take a sip,” Nate said. “Go on.” He lowered his voice and raised his brows. “Unless there is something in there that would hurt you if you did.”
Miss Jennings’s hand appeared to shake as tea began to slosh over the edges of the cup. “What? No!”
“Very well. Then give it to Miss De Lacey,” Nate said. “She’d like a cup of tea. Isn’t that right, Miss De Lacey?” He turned to Bridget.
Well played, Nate.“Yes, thank you. I would. I am dearly thirsty.” Bridget reached for the cup, but Miss Jennings stepped back.
“No, it’s…” Her hands trembled, and she dropped the cup. Tea stained the plush pink carpet. “Oh dear, look what you made me do.”
Dr. Elias stepped forward and picked up the cup. “There’s still a little in here.” He peered into the cup. “It’ll be enough,” he said.
“For what?” Miss Jennings asked.
“I have a solution in my bag to test for arsenic.”
Bridget knew that Dr. Elias was lying. If he’d had a way to test for arsenic, he would have tested the contents of the snuff box after Lady Matheson died and Louisa got sick. But Miss Jennings evidently did not know as much.
She stood frozen as Dr. Elias rummaged in his bag and then took out a small bottle of liquid, shook it, and said, “Right, I’ll simply pour a few drops of this tea in here and if it turns green, then…”
“Stop!” Nate lunged forward as Miss Jennings made a dash for the door. He caught her by the arm, and she squealed.
“I only gave her a pinch—just enough to make her sick. Not enough to kill her.”
Everyone fell silent.
Fury rose in Bridget’s chest, hot and searing. “Why?” She stepped forward. “Mrs. Harley is with child! You know that. And she has been nothing but good to you.” Angry tears formed in her eyes. It wasn’t fair!
“With child!” Miss Jennings spat the words. Her demeanor had entirely changed. “Do you know whose child she carries?”
“Yes.” Bridget turned and held out her hand for Nate to give her the portrait. He put it in her palm, and then she offered it to Miss Jennings.
