“No, I most assuredly do not,” Harred agreed. “I am grateful for his assistance. When can I speak to him?”
A deep, baritone voice came from the open window. “I am here now,” Greydon said. “I was just waiting for a proper introduction.”
Harred turned towards Greydon. “Why did you not come by the way of the main door?”
“The fewer people that know I am here, the better,” Greydon replied as he crawled through the window. “Blasted windows. They keep getting smaller and smaller.”
“I do not think windows are made for people of your size,” Fredrick joked.
Once Greydon was in the study, he said, “Lord William is a scoundrel. I do not trust that man and I would encourageyou to do the same. I doubt he has an honorable bone in his body.”
“I said something similar,” Fredrick stated.
Greydon walked over to the decanter and picked it up. He sniffed it before walking it over to the open window and dumping the contents onto the flowerbed outside.
“Was that truly necessary?” Harred asked.
“It was,” Greydon replied. “It smelled fine, but arsenic is odorless and tasteless when mixed with something. It is better to be safe than sorry.” He pulled out his pocket watch and studied the time for a long moment. Then he stuck his head out the window and stated, “Your brandy had arsenic in it.”
Harred reared back, stunned. “Are you positive?”
“I am. The arsenic caused the plant to wilt since the roots soaked it up,” Greydon explained as he placed the decanter down onto the desk.
“Would it have killed me?” Harred questioned.
Greydon shrugged. “That, I cannot answer. I don’t know how much was administered. I can just confirm the presence of arsenic in the brandy.”
Harred wasn’t sure how to process this. Whoever was trying to kill him was determined, that much he knew. But was William truly trying to kill him? The evidence was pointing at his brother, making him question everything he knew about him.
“I will investigate Lord William further,” Greydon said as he approached the window. “Try to avoid your brother as much as possible until we sort this out.”
“I can do that,” Harred responded.
After Greydon climbed through the window, he turned back around and said, “You might want to find the root of the reason why Lord William wants you dead.”
Harred went to reply but Greydon walked off.
Fredrick’s eyes held sympathy as he urged, “I know this is a lot to take in, but your brother is not to be trusted.”
“I already knew that,” Harred said. “But taking someone’s life goes above and beyond that.”
Harred retreated to his thoughts, wondering what he was going to do about William. He refused to sit back and do nothing. But his brother did have the means and the opportunity to kill him. This was a game that he hoped he would come out as the victor.
Octavia sat in the drawing room as she studied Lady William. It had been evident by her red-lined eyes that she had been crying, but she didn’t dare ask why that was. At least not yet. She hoped to coax the information out of her.
“How have you been faring?” Octavia prodded.
Lady William smiled, but it was hardly convincing. “I am as well as can be expected,” she replied vaguely.
“I am unsure of what you mean by that.”
With a glance at the open door, Lady William revealed in a hushed voice, “My husband hates me.”
Octavia tried to keep the displeasure off her face. “He said this to you?”
She shook her head. “No, but it is obvious,” Lady William replied. “I hardly see him, and when I do, he ignores me. I wish I knew what I have done wrong.”
“Perhaps you did nothing wrong,” she suggested.
