Page 58 of The Trouble With Titles
“Mostly. The journals begin when she came out, and then there are a few years missing. Around the time she wed up until I was about two or three years of age. Then there is a meticulous record up until a few days ago.”
“Is it horrifying? To read your mother’s private thoughts?”
“Very.”
“What did you learn?”
“I learned that my grandfather was enraged that a daughter was to inherit the title. He had his heart set on a son, but after four daughters, he was forced to admit defeat. It would seem he made Isla aware of his feelings throughout her youth.”
“Your poor mother!”
Simon shook his head. “Nay, fair Psyche, each one of us has our crosses to bear, and her father has been dead longer than I have been alive, so her past does not justify the present. You and I know about burdens better than most, denying our own happiness these past years. Most do not consider their personal troubles as a license to embark on a tyranny of murder. Three men are dead. Trafford, John, and yourself could have been killed. Yet all of you are innocent of doing her any harm.”
Madeline chewed on her lip as she thought over it. “You are correct. I sympathize with her circumstances but not her solution. But … who is the third man who is dead?”
He dropped his chin in anguish, still reeling at the words inked upon the page. “My father. Mother and Roderick had taken to slipping him opium, unbeknownst to him, which was perilous considering Dr. White had him on laudanum. They fumbled the dosages one night, each dosing him without being aware the other had already done so, thus causing an overdose, so it appeared he had suffered an apoplexy in the night.”
“Faith! Why did they do it?”
“They were engaged in an affair. Opium ensured my father would sleep through the night so Roderick could visit her bedchamber without fear of being caught. Father’s accidental death seems to have accelerated her descent into madness, and these extensive journals were some sort of outlet for her repressed emotions. All the things she never said. And I think she had the affair with Roderick to manipulate him into doing her bidding, but I imagine the guilt over killing my father further addled her head.”
Madeline emitted a low snuffle of disgust. “It is all so … abhorrent.”
“It is. And a slippery slope. When John came home from the coronation to complain about Lord Filminster, she was horrified to hear that the baron might be aware of Peter’s sons. They wereacquainted, so she visited him after dinner at the Forsythes’ to learn what he knew. When he mentioned he had reached a decision and just completed writing a letter to Home Office to inform them of my nephews, she struck him with a statuette so she might search his study. The laudanum she took must have dulled her humanity because there is no remorse when she writes about him bleeding out on the floor. She makes it sound as if it were terribly inconsiderate of him because drops of his blood ruined her favorite slippers, and Roderick had to destroy them on her behalf.”
“And the footman who was killed in Filminster’s household?”
“She paid him to search for the letter to Home Office when she could not find it.”
Madeline sat up, trembling with fatigue but shooing Simon when he tried to help. “I must push myself a little. Lying about too much will weaken me further.” She twisted around to rearrange her pillows, then leaned back in a half-seated position.
“What of John’s wife? Did she have anything to do with that?”
“No and yes. My mother guessed from Susan’s symptoms that she might have been suffering from arsenic poisoning from her skin creams, but remained silent. It inspired her plot to poison John.”
“Lady Blackwood did it all? She killed your father, Filminster? Tried to kill John, Trafford, and myself? It was all her?”
Simon was still struggling to come to grips with the extent of her villainy. “It was. Her and Roderick.”
“I hate to be cruel, but it is a mercy they are dead.”
“I agree. Picking up the pieces will be difficult enough without adding a scandalous public trial.”
“And what of Dr. White? Do you know why he did not notice the symptoms of arsenic poisoning during John’s long illness?”
“Dr. White has disappeared. Called away on urgent business, his household is telling us. He could be involved in the murder plots, or perhaps he is afraid to answer for his incompetence.”
Madeline emitted a guttural sound of frustration, staring up at the ceiling for long seconds until turning her gaze back to him. “What happens now?”
“You take care of your health while I see to the inquest for their deaths. Then …”
Madeline’s face lit up, her expression hopeful. “Then?”
Simon hated to disappoint her, but he had things to take care of. “Then … I must leave for Scotland, I am afraid.”
Her face fell, her jaw falling open in protest. “What? Why?”
“I must inspect the estates I am now responsible for. See to my responsibilities as the new lord.”
