The sounds from beyond her door were muffled, but something in their urgency woke her. She stared into darkness, then she saw the line of light under the door to the sitting room. The room had been in darkness when she retired and the door was unlocked, as agreed, but there had been no indication that Jared Hunt was inside on the couch, her silent, unwelcome bodyguard.
The sounds came again as Sophie slid out of bed, found her wrapper by touch and pulled it on as she made her way towards the line of light. Caution made her hesitate, her ear to the panels before she opened the door, but it seemed to her that the stir of movement was further away, perhaps in Cal’s unused sitting room. When she slipped inside there was no-one in sight, but she had a clear view through two rooms to Cal’s bedchamber which was lit by several candles.
‘Cal?’ She picked up her trailing skirts and ran, heedless of bare feet, unbound hair and half-tied robe.
He was lying on his bed, his skin grey, his eyes shut, and did not stir as she erupted into the room. Hunt, a bowl in his hands, spun round as she entered. ‘Stay there.’
‘Why?’ Sophie demanded, ignoring the order. Then Cal’s very stillness halted her. ‘Oh my God, he isn’t – ’
‘No. But he’s been poisoned.’ Hunt opened the dressing room door and thrust the bowl inside. ‘He’s got rid of everything he’s eaten today, I should think, and I finally got some water down him.’
When she touched Cal’s forehead it was dry, the skin tight and hot, and he moved his head restlessly as though the light pressure of her fingers caused him pain. Sophie tiptoed over to Hunt. ‘Should we call the doctor?’
‘To what end? They had no idea before, and these are the same symptoms. Bleeding him will do no good.’
‘My instinct would be to try and cool him down and get him to drink as much as possible,’ Sophie said.
‘I agree.’ The dark man just stood there looking at her.
‘Then let us do that.’
‘You had best go back to your room, Miss Wilmott.’ He looked at Cal. ‘He is not wearing anything.’
‘Oh for goodness sake, Mr Hunt! I am about to marry the man. I think I can cope with the sight of his bare flesh, under the circumstances. Help me with the bedclothes. We will need towels, but I don’t want to involve the servants, do you?’
‘No.’ He began to strip the covers off Cal who suddenly groaned and curled up.
‘He looks to be in such pain.’
‘He told me it was agony in the past. Tearing cramps in his guts, shooting pains in his limbs, a blinding headache.’
I will weep for him later, she resolved, as she lifted the last of the bedclothes away. It was difficult to believe that such a big, strong, fit man could be laid so low. He needs me to be strong now. And when I discover who has done this, I will kill them.
‘Have you any idea what the poison is?’
‘I wondered about arsenic.’ Hunt came back from the dressing room with an armful of towels and began to lay them around Cal’s body. ‘But the symptoms aren’t quite right.’
‘And how is it administered?’ She put the rest of the towels in place. ‘Does it hurt him to be touched?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Hunt said, frowning in thought. ‘As for how he took it, I’m puzzled. He has been careful not to eat or drink anything that other people haven’t shared.’
‘The drinks before dinner?’ Sophie eased down on the bed beside Cal and began to massage his back until the bent spine eased straight and he lay back with a sigh. ‘There were crowded groups, someone could have dropped something into a glass.’
‘Ralph Thorne didn’t go near him, I was watching.’
‘But his uncle did,’ Sophie remembered. ‘Can you bring wet towels and we’ll try and cool him down.’
‘Sophie?’ Cal turned his head on the pillow, eyes closed, one hand reaching for her.
‘I am here, so is Mr Hunt. No-one else.’ She took the glass that Hunt handed her and slipped her arm under Cal’s head. ‘Can you drink this? We are going to cool you down, but you need water.’
He lurched up, got his elbows under him and sat up.
‘Lie down!’
‘No. Pillows.’
‘You are the most stubborn man.’ Frightened for him, Sophie packed pillows at his back, then offered the water again. This time he drank, swallowed, waited through what looked like a savage cramp of pain and reached for the glass again.
Hunt came back with dripping towels and began to drape them over Cal’s hot body, making him gasp. The fencing master ignored the protests. ‘Why aren’t you lying down?’
‘Not giving in to it,’ Cal said through gritted teeth. ‘Need to find out who. Sophie, go to bed.’
‘Now I do believe you are ill,’ she snapped. ‘You lie there, looking like death, and you expect me to go off to bed and leave you? What a nice restful sleep that would be, full of pleasant dreams, I’m sure.’
‘Sorry, Sophie my love.’ Cal produced the ghost of a smile.