Nibbling my lower lip, I turned the heavy knob of the chapel door, easing it open just enough to slip inside. I tiptoed to where my cousins slept. I picked up the bottle and sniffed it. Brandy, yes, but something more, a shadow of something bitter.
I leaned over Emma, listening to her quiet, even breathing. It was so soft I could scarcely hear it, and when I pressed a finger to her wrist, I felt the merest flutter. Frightened now, I put my hand to her heart. The beat was faint and slow. I paused only to touch the pale skin at Lucy’s wrist. It was as weak as her sister’s. I took to my heels, bottle in hand, fairly flying up the stairs and down the dormitory wing to the Tower Room. I was careful to keep to the carpet, my slippers noiseless, and when I reached Brisbane’s room, I scratched softly, muttering prayers as I did so.
He opened the door at once and I pushed inside. He closed the door behind me and turned, his back to it as if to shield me from whatever had caused me to take flight.
“What has happened?” he demanded. The bedclothes were askew and the bed still bore the impression of where he had lain, but the lamps were lit and he held a book in his hand.
“It’s Emma and Lucy. I think they have been drugged, and the footman as well,” I told him, holding out the bottle.
He took it, sniffing deeply. “Brandy, but it has been tampered with.” He sniffed again, then touched his tongue to the rim of the bottle.
I snatched it from him. “Are you quite mad? You do not know what may be in there.”
He shrugged. “It is laudanum, quite a lot of it, I should think. How are they?”
I spread my hands helplessly. “Senseless. They seem to be sleeping, but I can scarcely feel the pulse at their wrists, and their heartbeats are slow and heavy. The footman has been drugged as well, but he seems less affected.”
“He is taller than either of them by a foot and doubtless heavier than either by an hundredweight,” he commented, moving to the wardrobe. He flung open the door and pulled out a small leather case.
“Brisbane, you cannot mean to physic them yourself. They need a doctor.”
“Look outside,” he ordered. “The snow has begun, and it will only get worse. It would take more than two hours to fetch a doctor from Blessingstoke and they haven’t that long if we mean to keep them alive.”
“Oh,” I said faintly. I drew myself up to my full height and squared my shoulders. Whatever horrors the night would bring, I was prepared to face them.
Brisbane turned at the door, the case tucked under his arm. He nodded toward the washstand. “Bring the basin. This is not going to be pleasant.”
I gulped and nodded, snatching up the basin and following him to the chapel.
The next hours were not ones I can remember with any pleasure. It began with a vicious argument between Brisbane and myself as to whether the rest of the household should be roused. He insisted we should deal with the situation alone, maintaining that until he knew how and why the girls had been drugged, he did not want to alert the malefactor who had attempted to harm them. I flew at him, accusing him of suspecting a member of my family, which he coldly affirmed, and matters deteriorated from there. We were hardly speaking by the time we reached the chapel. Brisbane knelt swiftly over William IV, palpating his pulse and counting.
“He will be fine. His heartbeat is strong. Roll him onto the floor and let him sleep it off,” he ordered.
I did as he bade me, swearing fluently under my breath the entire time. William IV was a substantial lad, and it took all of my strength to wrestle him off of the chair and into a more comfortable position on the floor. By the time I reached Brisbane in the chapel he was already finishing his examination. The crimson dressing gown was pooled at his feet, the leather case open beside it. I could just make out an assortment of lethal-looking instruments and small, smoked-glass vials tucked inside.
He glanced up at me, his eyes boring into mine. “They have not been drugged,” he said, rising to his feet. “They have been poisoned. We must get them moving and we must dose them with stimulants. Fetch Aquinas and have him bring tea, pots of it, as hot and sweet as he can manage.”
I nodded and moved swiftly to the door. I paused the barest moment, glancing back at him. He was on his knees, draping Emma’s arm over his good shoulder, levering her to her feet. Her head lolled back against him, her features peaceful and immovable. There was an expression of grim determination on his face and I could hear him talking softly to her, demanding she open her eyes and respond to him. I blinked back sudden tears and left them. It was in God’s hands now, God’s and Brisbane’s.
I rapped lightly at Aquinas’ door. He roused at once and answered the door wearing a dapper dressing gown of striped China silk over his trousers.
“My lady?” he inquired, as brightly awake as if I had rung for him at teatime.
“Brisbane needs you. He is in the chapel. Someone has poisoned Miss Emma and Miss Lucy with laudanum. He said to bring tea, masses of it, as hot as you can.”
“And sweet,” Aquinas said knowingly. “The sugar will help with the shock.”
I blinked at him. “How do you—never mind. I do not wish to know. Bring enough for William IV. He has been dosed as well, but Brisbane says he is not as unwell as the ladies. Mind you are quiet. Brisbane does not wish to rouse the household.”
I scurried back to the chapel, and in a remarkably short time, Aquinas appeared, bearing quantities of hot coffee and tea, both liberally sweetened. The three of us took turns for the next few hours walking the girls, slapping lightly at their faces and ladling hot drinks down them. They vomited often, but Brisbane merely commented that this was good and encouraged it. William IV slept on, rousing only to take a few cups of tea before resuming his slumbers. Aquinas hefted him onto his back and carried him to his own room, reasoning that the boy would have more privacy in the butler’s room than the footmen’s dormitory. Some hours before dawn something turned, and both Emma and Lucy seemed suddenly stronger. Their pulses were even now, and stronger, and Brisbane let Emma slide gently to the floor. “They are sleeping,” he told me. He stretched then, like a bear rousing itself from winter sleep.
“This cannot have been good for your shoulder,” I said softly. “You must be in pain.”
He shrugged.
“I have methods,” he said blandly. “The ladies ought not stay here,” he observed. “It is too cold, and they will be vulnerable to a chill. Aquinas, you take Miss Lucy and I will carry Miss Emma. They will do well enough in their own room.”
Aquinas moved quickly to take up Lucy as Brisbane hefted Emma up once more. I remained behind to clear up the traces of the unpleasantness, bone tired and moving as slowly as an old woman. It would be dawn in a few hours and the household would begin to stir. I washed the basin in the butler’s pantry and realised I must return it to Brisbane’s room before the gentlemen rose.