Page 72 of A Highland Duke to Claim Her Heart

The doctor looked at him levelly. “Yes,” he said. “But I am nothing more than a country doctor, and we are speaking about a man with titles, property, and money. I do not want to make any accusations.”

“Well, I am prepared to make accusations,” Alaric spat. “In fact, I am ready to march over to Christopher’s rooms right now andgive him a good thrashing until he confesses to what he has done! He will not be allowed to get away with this!”

He even made to turn, but Cassandra put out a hand to stop him before he could go.

“Wait,” she muttered, once more casting her eyes down the corridor. She had a terrible feeling that they were being overheard. “If you confront Christopher now, that will only give him a chance to destroy all the evidence, burn any letters, and possibly even flee.”

“What do you suggest that we do, then?” he asked.

“I suggest that we try to catch him in the act,” Cassandra said, tilting her chin up defiantly.

“Catch him in the act?” Alaric sounded skeptical. “Do you really think such a thing is possible?”

“I do,” Cassandra insisted.

“And meanwhile, I will continue to treat the duke,” Dr. Ludley said. “I can slowly start to counteract the poison, and as long as he does not take any more, I believe that we will be able to reverse the adverse effects—although it is possible they will never be fully reversed. It is essential, however, that Lord Christopher does not learn of my course of treatment. He mustcontinue to think that the duke is getting worse. Otherwise he may become desperate and attempt another, less subtle means, of ending the duke’s life.”

Cassandra nodded. “I can do that,” she murmured. “All that matters now is curing the duke, catching Christopher, and making sure he is behind bars.”

No time to think about Ewan’s words to me earlier,she told herself. She couldn’t be distracted, not now.

But if they cured him, if they eliminated the threat to his life, then she would finally have the chance to tell him how she felt, as well.

***

Her mother arrived that night from Edinburgh, where she and Lord Pembury had been attending political dinners with different lairds and their wives. She came alone, and when she swept into Cassandra’s bedchamber, her expression was grim.

“My daughter,” she murmured, crossing the room in a few strides and taking Cassandra into her arms. “I got your letter and came as soon as I could. Your father was worried, but I told him not to concern himself with it, that it was a problem amongst women.”

“So you did not tell him that the duke is ill?” Cassandra asked.

“Of course not,” Lady Pembury said, holding her at arm’s length and raising an eyebrow. “I am not a fool. Your father would use that as an excuse to maneuver politically, perhaps even stop putting pressure on the lairds to adopt new farming techniques.”

Cassandra blinked. She had not expected her mother to be so politically savvy.

Lady Pembury smiled wryly, as if reading her mind.

“I have spent twenty-five years on your father’s arm, my dear. I know how and when to reveal information, when best to dole out both good and bad news.” She led Cassandra over to the dressing table and sat her down. “Now, tell me what exactly is wrong with the duke.”

Cassandra explained everything: When Ewan had first become ill, his declining health, and finally the diagnosis from the doctor. Lady Pembury listened calmly, although even she could not disguise her shock when Cassandra revealed that it had been Christopher all along who was poisoning his brother.

“Arsenic,” she murmured, shaking her head in shock. “I thought I had seen it all, but I suppose even I can be surprised by the ambition of theton.”

“I admit I have been in shock myself,” Cassandra said. “I did not want to believe it. I was almost married to him, Mama. Can you imagine? Spending my life with a man capable of such a thing?”

Lady Pembury’s jaw tightened, and her eyes flashed with anger. “I think it was a very good thing, then, that he ran away when he did, and you ended up married to the duke. Although I would be wary, my child. If the duke dies, it is possible Lord Christopher will wish to marry you.”

“But you would not allow that!” Cassandra said.

“No, of course not,” her mother said. “But now that we know what he is capable of, you have to be careful. He could try to poison you, as well. Especially if he suspects you might be with child.”

Cassandra swallowed. “There is no chance of that,” she muttered, looking down at her hands. When she looked up, her mother’s eyebrow was raised.

“None at all?”

“None at all,” Cassandra said, and she was unable to keep some of the bitterness from her voice.

There was a short silence. “I see,” Lady Pembury said at last. “Well, I hope that things can change after the duke recovers. And he will. I trust that you and the doctor will be able to save him.”