then I would be doubtful of an illness such as you described.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t been in Scotland when Andrew had fallen ill and died. Nor had he noticed James becoming sick before the illness that had claimed his life. But then, he’d been involved in his own interests, spending countless hours traveling back and forth to Perth to ensure that his machinery had arrived safely from Italy.
James might well have been ill long before he knew it. Unfortunately, his brother had been one of those individuals who never complain until complaints would do no good.
He folded the letter and put it away, thinking that it had been too long since he’d seen Lorenzo. There were a few people he could trust, and although he trusted Count Paterno more than any other man, even Lorenzo did not know all his secrets.
Oddly enough, contentment permeated Rosemoor. The servants seemed pleased to be employed at the great house, and there were many smiles among thestaff. She’d also heard laughter along the corridors, and it was such an odd sound for this place that she stopped and listened for it.
Was she the only one who could see beneath the smiles to the true evil?
The gray eyes of the Roberson males were the color of smoke, of slate. The devil’s colors, as if he lived inside each of them.
True, they were all charming, the Roberson men. Each one of them, from the patriarch on down, had the grace of Gabriel, and the slyness, too. They smiled with ease, and it took great practice to see beyond their pleasantries to the sin residing in their hearts.
It wasn’t that voices told her how evil they were. True, there were voices she heard in her mind, voices that she knew other people didn’t hear. Sometimes she thought that the voices were the various entities of God Himself: the Holy Spirit, the Son, and God the Father. But then they would change and seem almost like children, and she’d know exactly who they were. Mostly she knew that what she heard was her conscience, goading her to duty.
Practice had made her fingers nimble at their task. She uncorked the cobalt bottle, inserted the long-handled spoon, and removed a small quantity of powder. Every day she ingested a little, placing it on the tip of her tongue. If she survived to the following day, she knew she should be about her mission.
When it was time, she would add a larger quantity to the earl’s food or beverage and watch him die with a true and deep sorrow. People would come to join her in mourning such a man, and they would marvel at her composure, at her dignity.
There was no rancor in this act. It was simply something that needed to be done. A task that needed to be carried out for the good of all. Such evil could not be allowed to exist in the world. Such horror must have a consequence.
The bloodline must be eliminated.
Chapter 6
A rabella was claiming a headache, and said she’d taken one of her powders. Short of dragging her from her chamber, there was nothing for Gillian to do but wish her well.
It was a blessing that the girl had chosen to barricade herself in her chamber. For a few hours, Gillian would be free of her, free of any duties, free of pretense. Free, most of all, of being the guardian of Arabella’s future.
What would Dr. Fenton say if she was truly honest about Arabella? Did he really wish to know all of Arabella’s deficiencies?
Arabella must learn to be kind. She should pay attention to others, in order to notice their sadness or irritation. If she could not dredge a drop of sympathy for another living soul, then she should pretend to care. Pretense was sometimes necessary, especially if another’s feelings were to be spared. There is no virtue to brutal honesty. Arabella must guard her tongue. The world truly did not care for her opinion, especially if it was unduly harsh. A little tact went a very long way, and silence even farther.
Arabella must look beyond the boundaries of her books. There was a world outside the printed
Unfortunately, he hadn’t been in Scotland when Andrew had fallen ill and died. Nor had he noticed James becoming sick before the illness that had claimed his life. But then, he’d been involved in his own interests, spending countless hours traveling back and forth to Perth to ensure that his machinery had arrived safely from Italy.
James might well have been ill long before he knew it. Unfortunately, his brother had been one of those individuals who never complain until complaints would do no good.
He folded the letter and put it away, thinking that it had been too long since he’d seen Lorenzo. There were a few people he could trust, and although he trusted Count Paterno more than any other man, even Lorenzo did not know all his secrets.
Oddly enough, contentment permeated Rosemoor. The servants seemed pleased to be employed at the great house, and there were many smiles among thestaff. She’d also heard laughter along the corridors, and it was such an odd sound for this place that she stopped and listened for it.
Was she the only one who could see beneath the smiles to the true evil?
The gray eyes of the Roberson males were the color of smoke, of slate. The devil’s colors, as if he lived inside each of them.
True, they were all charming, the Roberson men. Each one of them, from the patriarch on down, had the grace of Gabriel, and the slyness, too. They smiled with ease, and it took great practice to see beyond their pleasantries to the sin residing in their hearts.
It wasn’t that voices told her how evil they were. True, there were voices she heard in her mind, voices that she knew other people didn’t hear. Sometimes she thought that the voices were the various entities of God Himself: the Holy Spirit, the Son, and God the Father. But then they would change and seem almost like children, and she’d know exactly who they were. Mostly she knew that what she heard was her conscience, goading her to duty.
Practice had made her fingers nimble at their task. She uncorked the cobalt bottle, inserted the long-handled spoon, and removed a small quantity of powder. Every day she ingested a little, placing it on the tip of her tongue. If she survived to the following day, she knew she should be about her mission.
When it was time, she would add a larger quantity to the earl’s food or beverage and watch him die with a true and deep sorrow. People would come to join her in mourning such a man, and they would marvel at her composure, at her dignity.
There was no rancor in this act. It was simply something that needed to be done. A task that needed to be carried out for the good of all. Such evil could not be allowed to exist in the world. Such horror must have a consequence.
The bloodline must be eliminated.
Chapter 6
A rabella was claiming a headache, and said she’d taken one of her powders. Short of dragging her from her chamber, there was nothing for Gillian to do but wish her well.
It was a blessing that the girl had chosen to barricade herself in her chamber. For a few hours, Gillian would be free of her, free of any duties, free of pretense. Free, most of all, of being the guardian of Arabella’s future.
What would Dr. Fenton say if she was truly honest about Arabella? Did he really wish to know all of Arabella’s deficiencies?
Arabella must learn to be kind. She should pay attention to others, in order to notice their sadness or irritation. If she could not dredge a drop of sympathy for another living soul, then she should pretend to care. Pretense was sometimes necessary, especially if another’s feelings were to be spared. There is no virtue to brutal honesty. Arabella must guard her tongue. The world truly did not care for her opinion, especially if it was unduly harsh. A little tact went a very long way, and silence even farther.
Arabella must look beyond the boundaries of her books. There was a world outside the printed
Similar Books
