Page 83 of The Sound of Seduction
A heart-wrenching squeal escaped Violet as she cried even more, but nothing happened. She didn’t cooperate.
“Andre?” Wendy called. “Andre!”
She heard footsteps. The door opened to reveal both Andre and Stan standing in the doorway.
“She’s been poisoned.”
Andre came to her side, placing one hand on Violet’s belly and the other on her carotid artery. “Faint pulse. Tense abdomen.”
“If it had reached the baby, the muscles would have relaxed. But the baby may still be alive.” Wendy attempted to push Violet up, but she was too heavy for her. Then Stan caught her, lifting her gently yet swiftly and positioning her over the bowl.
Wendy’s eyes were wide open when she watched the prince in all his finery hold her patient up, positioning her as if he’d done this before so they could get her to expel the poison.
“Military. I told you,” Stan said and nodded as Andre took Violet’s hand.
Then Andre explained what Violet had to do. She cried in protest, but Wendy couldn’t let any more time go by. “Violet, your child’s first breath depends on your strength right now—it’s the only chance the baby may have to live.”
Violet gave a faint nod, her trembling subsiding just enough for Wendy to note the flicker of trust in her weary gaze. Wendy didn’t need words for what she saw there. It was enough. She gathered what she would need—a pitcher of water, linens to prepare for what lay ahead—and when Violet finally complied with Andre’s instructions, Stan’s hands were already steady, and Wendy pushed a wet cloth against Violet’s forehead as they steadied her.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The library wasdimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the floor-to-ceiling shelves. The muffled sounds of the ball filtered through the walls, cheerful music and the occasional burst of laughter, a strange contrast to the hushed tension in the room. Stan closed the door behind him with a quiet click, the air heavy with the faint scents of old leather and ink. Around him, the others waited, Pippa, Nick, Felix, Alfie, and Alex. Their varied expressions mirroring the storm of emotions churning in his chest.
Pippa was the first to speak, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Will she be all right?” Her voice trembled, though she tried for a steadiness she clearly didn’t possess. Her worry was written in every line of her face, her usual composure slipping just enough to show the raw concern beneath.
“She’s with her husband and Wendy,” Stan replied, his tone clipped, betraying the wariness he always carried in moments like these. “They’ll have to wait now,” Andre said. Andre had stepped away with Thea and Lady Ashford while the friends caught a breath before returning to the bustle of the ball.
Alex, standing with one shoulder leaning against the desk, straightened and reached into his coat. “I found this next to the potted fern in the entrance hall when you were all upstairs.” He held out a small glass vial, empty, the faintest smear of residue inside catching the light. “List was gone already.”
Stan’s fingers closed around the cool glass, the chill biting into his skin like a mark of failure. His stomach dropped ashe recognized the vial. For a moment, he could almost feel the slight weight of it as it had been slipped into his pocket days ago. By List. At the practice.
Nick stepped closer, taking the vial from him and raising it to his nose. His brows furrowed. “This is belladonna.” His voice was calm but grim. “I noticed one of my vials missing.”
Stan’s jaw tightened, the suffocating guilt pressing hard against his chest. “He must have taken it the day he came to see you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, his arms folding tightly as though bracing against a chill. “I should have seen this coming.”
“You did see it coming,” Alex said firmly. His eyes locked with Stan’s, a touch of quiet reproach there. “But you couldn’t have known where he’d strike as much as you can’t tell where a cannon ball will land.”
Stan inhaled sharply, like he was trying to breathe through ash. “This is all my fault.”
Alfie, seated cross-legged on the carpet like a boy, waved the remark off with an exaggerated sweep of his hand. “It’s not! Don’t be absurd. I made the first poison in the first place.”
Stan’s head snapped up, anger flashing in his eyes—not at Alfie, but at himself. “No. You carefully dosed something that didn’t put anyone at risk. He, in turn, chose to empty an entire vial of poison into Violet’s drink. He tried to kill.” His voice was taut, layered with frustration and held-back fury—not for the crime alone, but for failing to shield his friends from List’s schemes.
“Stan,” Alfie said, his tone softer now. “He’s not merely targeting you, and yet you act as though you bear the brunt of responsibility for every despicable thing he’s done. You’re not alone in this.” There was no censure in his words, only a quiet insistence that penetrated Stan’s defenses.
“No one here is guilty of anything,” Stan added, his voice catching on the anger bubbling within him. “Are you jesting? This group of people is the most upstanding, courageous, and trustworthy I’ve known.” He hesitated for half a beat. “But I understand. If there’s blame, I take my share just as much.”
“List is dangerous. Father warned us,” Alex said as if these three little words could encompass the viciousness that was List.
Stan opened his mouth, words poised on the cusp of an argument, but then he stilled, his voice faltering as his gaze dropped to the floor. “I wish I hadn’t brought all this into your lives,” he said slowly, almost haltingly. “If I left. If I went far away, luring him away…”
“You’ll do no such thing.” The cutting interruption came from Felix, who had entered unnoticed, his quiet presence taking up a sudden and immovable space in the room. His face betrayed little, but his eyes held a solemnity that stopped Stan cold. “He won’t choose you over the rest of us. He hates too widely, and too deeply. And besides, you’ve already proven you’re more than worthy of standing alongside us, not apart.”
“We are stronger together,” Nick said and Alfie nodded. Stan didn’t reply, couldn’t reply, as he took in the unwavering conviction in Felix’s words. Nick stepped forward next. “And it’s not just us who need you. You’ve proven invaluable to us. And if I may say it, you’re the kind of royal who keeps things from fraying when tension is highest. You give us a voice against List.”
Stan turned as Alex laid a hand on his arm. “What does this mean?” Alex asked hoarsely, searching Stan’s face. “What are they saying?”
He looked at his brother for what felt an eternity. Somewhere, a decision crystallized as if it had been there all along. With them. Nick, Alfie, Andre, Felix, and especially Wendy.
