Page 50 of To Follow her Heart

Luke didn’t wait to see if she would swoon, Mrs Drake was breathing at least, but hurried to the door she had indicated. The room was barely lit, just a single candelabra illuminating the shadowy space, but sure enough there was a figure laid out on the chaise longue, unmoving.

“Lady Frances?” Luke said, hurrying to her.

She didn’t move, didn’t appear to be breathing, and he knelt beside her and patted her cheek. Nothing. He shook her a little, but she didn’t stir.

“Lady Frances?” he said again, panicked now. As much as he didn’t want to marry the woman he bore her no ill will, and to die… like this….

He lowered his head, placing his ear to her chest as the steady thump, thump of a normal heartbeat became audible. Hands slid into his hair and curled about his neck just as voices sounded at the door behind him. Mr Derby and Mr Burton’s voices….

Luke reared back but Lady Frances held onto him, her grip remarkably strong. The door opened and—

“Luke!”

Mr Derby’s horrified voice reached him as he stumbled away, just in time to see the bastard staring at him with reproach, with Mr Burton and Lord St Clair looking on in astonishment.

“Oh,” said Lady Frances, gasping and putting a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Luke, I knew I ought not to have met you alone like this….”

For a moment Luke felt the ground tilt beneath his feet. He was sick and hot and cold all at once. A trap, his stupid brain told him, though his heart was thudding so hard he couldn’t think straight, his mind disoriented, and so… so bloody angry. He opened his mouth to rage at them for doing this to him, but then—

“But you weren’t alone, Lady Frances.”

He turned, to see Miss Stanhope and Miss Hunt, shadowy shapes standing by the fireplace, just out of the glow of the candlelight.

His breath caught, praying they’d understood what had happened.

“You see, Mr Baxter, we saw Mr Derby, Lady Frances, and Mrs Drake conspiring like Macbeth’s witches earlier today and realised something wasn’t right,” Miss Stanhope said, her voice cool and detached. “So we followed Lady Frances here, and we heard and saw everything.”

“You used the passage from the priest hole?” Jasper said, his voice full of admiration.

Miss Stanhope nodded, taking a moment to remove her spectacles and clean them on a delicate lace hanky. “We heard Mrs Drake’s hysterical scene and how she told you she believed Lady Frances was dead, we saw you come in here and try to help her, and we saw her grab a hold of you and hang on to look as though you were embracing.”

She turned to give Lady Frances a hard stare and Luke followed her gaze to find the young woman rigid with humiliation. He let out a breath, so stunned and so bloody grateful he could have kissed Miss Stanhope for the joy he felt. No wonder Jasper was so in love with her—she was a marvel!

“What utter nonsense,” Mr Derby said in disgust.

“I think not,” Jasper said, the words hard. “Your story of having left your heart medicine in here was a flimsy enough pretext to bring us this way, and I know Mr Baxter’s feelings for Miss Connolly well enough to know he’d never have met Lady Frances here alone, not under any circumstances. I’m afraid you’ve misjudged.” His expression was grim and far from the usual hail-fellow chap that Luke had seen till now. “This is underhand, Derby, even for you. I won’t have it. I want you gone from here—”

“How dare you? How dare you,” raged Mr Derby, his face contorted with fury, his mouth working though no sound came out.

He clutched at his chest, grasping at the door frame as he fought for breath.

“Hell and damnation! It’s his heart,” said Luke, hurrying towards him.

Jasper and Luke half-carried, half-dragged Mr Derby to the chaise longue Lady Frances had now vacated as Miss Hunt hurried to the bell pull and rang ferociously to bring the servants running.

Luke untied Mr Derby’s cravat, resisting with difficulty the urge to throttle the man with it and finish the job.

“You… you… ruining… everything,” Derby gasped, clutching at Luke’s arm.

“Shut up and tell me where your medicine is,” he snapped, too angry to feel the least bit of sympathy.

Mr Derby indicated an inside pocket of his coat and Luke searched for the small paper packet.

“Bring some water,” he said, and a moment later Miss Stanhope handed him a glass.

A servant appeared, and Jasper gave instructions that the family doctor be called at once, Mr Derby’s valet summoned, and footmen readied to carry the man to his room.

Luke poured the powder the water and swirled it about until it dissolved, pressing the glass into Derby’s hand. “Drink it,” he said, before getting to his feet. He moved to Miss Stanhope and Miss Hunt, noting without surprise that Lady Frances had made herself scarce.