Chapter Twenty-Two
In her chamber, Eloise was packing. She had no idea where Alain was or if he was even aware that Edmund had lived long enough to identify Christopher as his attacker. Regardless, their plan was now sunk. His recklessness had ruined everything. It would be impossible for them to continue their scheme. Christopher would be hanged publicly for the crime, ending any chance that Alain would be able to simply take his place.
“Damn his temper,” she whispered, tossing garments willy-nilly into a case.
If anyone dared stop her she would simply claim that her grief was too great to remain and she needed to return to the bosom of her family for comfort. It was a blatant fabrication, of course. But who could gainsay it?
Gathering up her bag, she opened the door and peered out into the corridor. Seeing no one, she stepped out and closed the door quickly behind her. She’d taken no more than two steps when someone emerged from a room across the hall.
“Embarking on a journey, Mrs. Blakemore?”
Eloise gasped, dropped her bag, and her hand flew to her heart. “Dr. Warner! You frightened me near to death!” she exclaimed.
“Surely not to such a degree, Mrs. Blakemore! I anticipate that you are made of infinitely sterner stuff than that,” he replied cagily.
Eloise considered his tone and his words carefully. It was quite obvious that he was suspicious of her. “If you’ve something you wish to say, Dr. Warner, then I suggest you get on with it.”
“I cannot say precisely what role you’ve played in this fiendish plot, Mrs. Blakemore, but I’m not so foolish as to believe you innocent. You are not leaving this house.”
“And will you stop me?” she challenged, her words snapping with temper. “You are barely above a tradesman and I am a gentleman’s wife!”
“In point of fact, Madam, you are a gentleman’s widow… and a widow of your own making,” he chided in a deceptively mild tone. “I’ve no wish to detain you physically or to assault your person in such a manner, but I shall if need be. Return to your rooms, Mrs. Blakemore, and await Lord Blakemore. What is to be done with you is entirely at his discretion now.”
For a moment, she considered attempting to get past him, to make a run for it. But she had to acknowledge that she would likely not succeed. Her only hope lay in Alain’s return and even that she could not be certain of.
“You seem quite impressed with your own cleverness, Dr. Warner. I find myself rather fatigued. I will retire and undertake my journey to visit my family on another day… surely you can understand why a woman would wish to be in the bosom of her family after such an ordeal?”
“Of a certain, Mrs. Blakemore. Rest well,” Dr. Warner said softly, but he made no move to leave. In fact, he leaned nonchalantly against the opposite wall as if he meant to remain there guarding her door throughout the night.
Retreating into her chamber, Eloise leaned back against the door and let her head fall back. It was all crashing down about them and they would likely both swing for it.
Eloise began to pace the room, from side to side and back to front. She paced until her feet ached in her sturdy kid boots and a fine sheen of perspiration glistened on her brow. But it wasn’t the exertion that prompted it. It was the cold sweat of fear that dampened her flesh. Prison was not for her and neither was the hangman’s noose.
Her pacing stopped abruptly as she stood in the center of the room and considered what was, in fact, her very last option. Her only chance of being spared came from making her useful. If she offered information in trade, perhaps Lord Blakemore would be merciful.
In truth, she reasoned, she had yet to do anything wrong other than to be aware of Alain’s doings and keeping silent. She had reason enough to fear him, did she not? Surely no one would fault her for such.
Opening the door again, she met Dr. Warner’s speculative gaze. “If you’d be so kind, Dr. Warner, to escort me to the library where I may await his lordship. I find that there is pertinent information that I may need to share with him.”
In a priest hole tucked into the wall next to the fireplace, Alain La Chance listened to the exchange between his lover and the good doctor. The greedy bitch was hanging him out to dry, he thought.
“I will not burn for this alone, Eloise… if at all.” He needed leverage and Miss Marlowe would suffice.
Turning on his heel, he backtracked through the tunnels and corridors to a position just outside Lady Agatha’s chamber. He’d have to wait there for the right moment, but she was his one chance for making a clean escape from Castle Black.