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Authors: Catherine Lloyd

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BOOK: Death Comes to London
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“Dr. Redmond, let me be blunt. You were at Almack’s that night. Did you conspire with Lieutenant Broughton to poison his grandmother?”

With a stifled groan Dr. Redmond covered his face with his hands. “
Conspire?
I’d hardly call it that. Coerced might be a better word, or even blackmailed.”

“Are you suggesting Broughton
forced
you to help him? Why would he do that?”

“Because of Oliver. Because he knew—” Dr. Redmond’s breath shuddered out. “A year or so ago Broughton sought me out and made me believe he was interested in my scientific studies. I must admit that I was flattered by his attention and I needed a patron to introduce me to the right people. He also introduced me to Oliver, not realizing, I assumed, that we already knew each other from Eton. I did my best to keep away from him. Eventually Broughton told me that he knew what I’d done and that if I didn’t help him he’d expose me to my colleagues as a . . .” Dr. Redmond glanced at Miss Harrington and stopped speaking.

Robert nodded. “I understand. So you agreed to help him dispose of the dowager.”

“Yes, the dowager countess was extremely frail anyway. Broughton suggested that a slight increase in her self-administered heart medicine might hasten her end. He didn’t mention anything about needing money and, having met the dowager on several occasions, I could see how one might grow to hate her.”

“How did you intend to accomplish your goal?”

“As I said, the dowager was already brewing a tea made of foxglove seeds and leaves to aid the regularity of her heart. I did speak to her about the dangers of such a concoction, but she wouldn’t listen to me. William Withering had already made a study of foxglove, or digitalis as it was more formally known in 1785, which advocated its scientific use as a modern therapeutic, so I considered it marginally acceptable.”

Robert nodded impatiently. “Yes, yes, but what exactly did you change in the medication?”

“I made the tea more concentrated. That’s all.”

“And what effect would that have?”

Dr. Redmond shrugged. “As I said, it increased the likelihood of the dowager having a heart attack.”

“In fact, you were shortening her life.”

“Yes.”

“So what happened at Almack’s? Did you misjudge the dose?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” Miss Harrington sat forward, her gloved hands clutched tightly together in her lap.

“Broughton asked me to make him a new vial of the concentrated digitalis, as he was running out. I gave it to him at Almack’s that night. I ended up leaving earlier than I intended because I saw Oliver storm out in a rage and I tried to talk to him.” He sighed. “I believe I just made things worse. By the time we’d finished arguing, the dowager must’ve been dead. I suspect I was meant to be available at Almack’s to confirm the dowager’s death from natural causes, but in my haste to confront Oliver, I wasn’t there.”

“So it’s possible Broughton chose to administer the poison himself?”

“I really don’t know,” Dr. Redmond said slowly. “It was only when I saw the dowager’s body that I realized something was wrong. Not only was her heart badly damaged, but she bore additional signs of arsenic poisoning.”

“And did you mention that to Broughton?”

“Yes, he suggested that I keep my mouth shut. When I protested that it was against my principles to lie about such matters, he showed me the bottle of digitalis with my handwriting on it. He said that if I didn’t keep quiet, he’d make sure he ‘found’ the bottle and would have no hesitation in denouncing me as his grandmother’s murderer.”

“Clever.”

“Yes.” Dr. Redmond cleared his throat. “So I agreed to keep quiet.”

“Because you were implicated in her death.”

“You don’t understand. I thought helping him shorten the dowager’s life would stop him blackening my name and reputation, and that he’d leave me alone. I thought it would make Oliver’s life easier, too, if the old harridan wasn’t there to bully him. But, of course, I was wrong.”

“With all due respect, Dr. Redmond, you didn’t simply ‘shorten’ the dowager’s life, you
ended
it by giving Broughton the poison
you
brewed,” Robert snapped. “I hardly think this matter reflects well on you at all. If Broughton is ever challenged about these convenient deaths, I suspect he’ll inform on you just as easily as he implicated Oliver.”

“God,
no.
” Dr. Redmond shook his head.

Robert made no effort to reassure the man. As far as he was concerned, he was almost as bad as Broughton. “I presume you thought the matter would be over when Oliver regained his health, as you expected him to do so.”

“But poor Oliver became worse.” Miss Harrington sounded far too sympathetic for Robert’s liking, but the doctor turned gratefully toward her.

“Yes, he became very weak and confused and was unable to keep most foods down. He also kept insisting he could see ghosts in the corners of his room. Broughton believed his mind was disturbed.”

“He would.” Robert couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Did you know Lieutenant Broughton has been conducting some scientific experiments of his own?”

“I was aware of his interest in such matters, yes. He’s been exterminating vermin using the scientific method to record and evaluate his findings.”

“Using what type of poison?”

“White arsenic, I believe. Why?”

“I’m not sure. Did you prescribe Oliver some of the dowager’s rose-hip cough medicine as well?”

“I knew Oliver was taking it, but Broughton assured me that Hester Macleod had made the last batch, so there was no fear of the dowager having made a mistake.”

“I saw Oliver just before he died. His nurse had just given him the rose-hip syrup.”

“How do you know that for sure?”

“I spoke to her just before she was dismissed for incompetence, and I confiscated the bottle of medicine.”

Dr. Redmond half-stretched out his hand. “Do you have it with you?”

“It’s already being tested.”

Horror dawned on the doctor’s already ashen features. “You think Broughton killed Oliver, don’t you?”

Robert smiled. “Well, if you didn’t, who else could it be?”

 

Lucy glanced up at Major Kurland as he handed the maid onto the outside seat of the carriage and then helped her inside.

“You were very harsh with poor Dr. Redmond.”

“My dear Miss Harrington, he willingly conspired with Broughton to shorten the dowager’s life! In my book that makes him almost as guilty as Broughton. Does that not offend you?”

“Yes, but he certainly didn’t aid Broughton
willingly.
He did it out of fear for his reputation.”

The major’s expression remained stern. “And self-interest. What about his Hippocratic oath to do no harm to his patients?” Major Kurland snorted. “He only remembered
that
when he saw the dowager’s body and realized he might be implicated in a murder.”

“He obviously panicked.” Lucy smoothed down the gray skirt of her pelisse. “You have no concept of how it must be to make your own way in the world like Dr. Redmond had to do.”

“I’ve made my own way, Miss Harrington.”

“To a certain extent I suppose you have. Although, as far as I understand it, you need money to purchase a commission in a decent regiment and your family always had ample funds.”

“Only in this generation. My grandfather was a common laborer before he built his own mills and became a wealthy man. I’ve had to overcome my fair share of aristocratic prejudice.”

“And Dr. Redmond is the fourth son of an earl with no income to speak of, and from what I gathered at our meeting, a somewhat spotty reputation.”

“Ah, you picked up on that, did you?”

“That he was in love with Oliver?” She sighed. “Yes, it’s rather sad, isn’t it?”

“Not according to the teachings of the church.”

She studied his shadowed face. “You don’t seem to share Lieutenant Broughton’s horror at such a thing.”

“I don’t. I’ve spent most of my life in the company of men, and I know what goes on between some of them. In my experience, as long as they were willing to fight to the death, where they chose to lay their pack at night made no difference to me. In fact, some of the men fought harder to ensure the safety of those they loved who were standing right beside them.”

“What a highly unorthodox opinion, Major.”

His smile flashed out, surprising her. “I don’t notice you being shocked either, Miss Harrington.”

“Because it makes sense of everything, doesn’t it? Broughton killed for financial gain, and Dr. Redmond helped him out of fear and love.”

“And we still can’t prove a single thing.”

“I know. I wonder why the dowager showed signs of arsenic poisoning?”

“Perhaps Broughton decided the digitalis wasn’t enough and made sure of her end with some arsenic he just happened to have with him in his pocket.”

“And it appears that came as a surprise to Dr. Redmond, too.” She wrinkled her nose. “It also complicates matters even further. How did he manage to get concentrated digitalis
and
arsenic in her orgeat?”

“I have no idea.”

The major sounded rather short. It must be hard for him to face the fact that his friend was a murderer. Lucy looked out of the window and decided to change the subject. “Are you intending to return to Kurland St. Mary in the near future, Major?”

“It depends on the Prince Regent. I’m awaiting my summons to the royal presence for the formal presentation of my baronetcy. If I don’t hear from the prince’s secretary this week, I’m going to write to him and explain that I’ll be going home for a few days and he can reach me there. I haven’t spent a single moment with my potential new land agent yet, and I wish to hear his plans for my estate.” He paused. “Why, is there something I can do for you in Kurland St. Mary?”

“I have a letter for my father, Major. I thought if you were going back I would entrust it to your care.”

“Of course, I’ll take it.” He paused. “Is there anything wrong at home?”

“No, I write to him every week. He enjoys hearing about our adventures.”

“I’m sure he does. Has London lived up to your expectations, Miss Harrington?”

She regarded him warily. “In some ways I’ve enjoyed it very much, but as an unmarried lady, my sphere of influence is obviously very limited. My aunt has some charities that she favors, but she doesn’t do more than offer them money and make a yearly visit, whereas I would
insist
on being more involved in what was going on. There is such huge wealth in this city and yet so many people are starving.”

“As in any city. Even you would struggle to find a way to feed them all.”

“If someone would offer me the chance, I’d dearly love to try.” She shook her head. “You will think me foolish.”

He nodded. “Idealistic maybe, but scarcely foolish, Miss Harrington. Unfortunately, you’d need to marry a prince of the realm, a nabob, or a real Indian prince to have such a fortune at your disposal. Has Miss Anna met a man worthy of her yet?”

“I’m not sure. I do know that she has received two proposals of marriage.”

“Hopefully not one from Lieutenant Broughton.”

She shuddered. “No, she told me that she’d fallen out of love with him when he showed us his gruesome experiments in his laboratory.”

“Thank goodness for that.” He half-smiled. “At one point I imagined she would marry him, and you would be off with Stanford, but of course that isn’t likely to happen now, is it?”

“Why not?”

He blinked at her. “You still believe Stanford might make you an offer?”

“You find the notion that someone might wish to marry me so preposterous? Not everyone sees me as some sort of convenience, Major.”

“That’s not what I meant at all, it’s simply that—”

She turned her head away before he could see that he had upset her and gazed unseeingly out into the street. She had almost confided to him that she planned to tell her father she was coming home early and that she was leaving Anna in excellent hands with the Clavelly family. But if she said that to him now, he’d probably either remind her that he’d told her so, or even worse, laugh.

“Miss Harrington . . .”

She bit down on her lip and refused to respond to him. As the carriage drew to a stop, he leaned across her to open the door. She didn’t wait for his help to step down, but managed by herself. She reached the top step and reached for the doorknocker.

“Miss
Harrington.

Schooling her features into a bland mask, she slowly looked down into his all-too-familiar face.

“Yes, Major?”

He studied her for such a long moment that she forgot to breathe.

“I offended you.” His dark blue gaze searched hers. “Worse, I upset you.”

“It’s of no matter.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest that you weren’t having a successful Season.”

“Oh yes, I’m positively
surrounded
by potential suitors. As you mentioned before I embarked on this pointless exercise, I am obviously not what any
gentleman
wishes for in a wife.” She banged the knocker hard. He carried on speaking behind her.

“If there was any justice in this world, they would be fighting over you, Miss Harrington,” he said gently. “They are obviously all fools.”

Lucy briefly closed her eyes and started to turn back to Major Kurland. The door swung open and the Clavelly butler cleared his throat.

“Good evening, Miss Harrington, Major Kurland.”

Major Kurland saluted from the flagstone path. “Good evening, I’ve brought Miss Harrington and her maid to see her sister.”

It took another gentle prompt from the polite butler before she remembered to step into the warmth of the hall so that he could shut the door. She walked up to the drawing room in a daze only to find that Anna was still dressing. After avoiding yet another quizzing from her aunt about Major Kurland, she escaped up the stairs.

She could hear someone coughing as she approached the bedroom door and opened it to find Anna and her maid in deep conversation.

“Oh, Lucy, I was just telling Edith how good that cough medicine the Broughtons gave me was.” She held the bottle up to the light. “There is a little bit left in there that you can take, Edith.”

BOOK: Death Comes to London
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