Bobby immediately started for me, Miss Townsend following.
I realized as Bobby reached the house that I’d neglected to call her Lady Roberta, but I was too worried to be bothered by niceties. Bobby didn’t seem to notice, in any case, as she charged over the threshold.
“Oh, good Lord,” she said, stopping short when she saw Erica. “Is she all right?”
“She is not. Please help me get her off this floor, and then she must have the doctor.”
No chairs stood in this house, only a bench against a wall in the open room beyond the atrium. Bobby leaned to Erica, who blinked at her in confusion, and wound an arm under the ill woman. I supported Erica’s other side, and together Bobby and I heaved her to her feet and a few tottered steps to the bench.
Erica collapsed to it, her head dropping back to the wall, her pale face filmed with perspiration. I quickly removed her hat and dabbed her face with the wet handkerchief once more.
Miss Townsend had arrived as we moved Erica, and now she studied the woman, her expression grave. “Bobby, run for the doctor,” Miss Townsend ordered. She took a seat on Erica’s other side, and Bobby made her swift way out the door. “Mrs. Hume, what did you eat?”
Erica dragged in a few ragged breaths. “Nothing.”
“Nonsense, it had to have been something. Or drank? What did you take tonight?”
“Only some tea.”
We’d all drunk tea out of communal pots that round-cheeked waitresses had carried about. My heart beat swiftly—had whoever wished to poison Lady Covington dropped a dollop of something into the tea?
Miss Townsend guessed my thoughts. “If it was in the tea, many more people would already be ill. She must have ingested it at home before they departed.”
“Cynthia.” My fears surged. Cynthia had said she’d eaten and drunk only what the whole family did. Had the noxious substance been served before or after she’d left the house this evening?
“Cyn appears to be fine,” Miss Townsend said, but her face creased in worry. “Miss Morris seems all right as well. I’ve not found Mr. Morris.”
Was Jonathan lying in a moaning heap in some aisle in the darkness? I clutched the lip of the wooden bench to keep myself from racing away to find him. I would wait for the doctor, as Erica seemed to be quieter with me next to her.
“Henry.” Erica’s hand found mine. “Please look after him for me. Promise me.”
“Who is Henry?” I asked her gently. I’d not heard the name from anyone in the family, nor had Cynthia mentioned him.
“Promise . . .” Erica’s eyes were losing focus.
“Yes, I promise.” I patted her hand.
Erica’s grip went slack. I touched her face in alarm, but she still breathed, if shallowly.
A commotion at the door announced the arrival of Bobby with the doctor. Daniel followed them, along with Mr. Fielding, Cynthia, and Mr. Thanos, and behind them, a wide-eyed Jonathan.
I vacated my seat, and the doctor, without paying much attention to me, took my place. He pried open one of Erica’s eyes, pressed fingers to her pulse, loosened her jaw, and examined her mouth and tongue.
Daniel halted by my side, but like the doctor, he behaved as though he stood next to empty air. I knew he’d taken the position deliberately, however, and I felt better with the warmth of him beside me. He wore scent, a light spice that smelled costly.
Jonathan shoved rudely past Mr. Thanos, but his face was drawn with concern. “We’ll see to her. Mama has sent for a coach to take us to the train.”
The doctor turned to him gravely. “It is too late for that. She must not travel. I will take her to my surgery, which is not far from here, and try to purge her. You have a coach, you say?”
Jonathan acknowledged this impatiently, and the doctor and Miss Townsend pried Erica to her feet between them. It was clear the young woman could not stand, let alone walk. Daniel made a move to her, but Jonathan cut him out and lifted Erica into his arms himself.
Jonathan strode out with Erica to the cooler air of the nave. Lady Covington rushed to them, snapping orders for all to clear out of the way.
“Vicar,” the doctor said in a low voice as he passed Mr. Fielding. “We might need you.”
Mr. Fielding did not look happy, but he nodded, gave me a pat on the shoulder, and followed him.
The others had gone, and I was left in relative privacy with Daniel. We stood in silence. I did not want to betray Daniel by any familiar gesture or even by turning to face him fully. A person’s ease with another tells much about what is between them.
Daniel likewise made no sign that he knew me. He straightened his gloves and, as he bent his head to do so, murmured, “I will speak with you later.”
If I had not been so focused on him, I’d have missed the words. They relieved me, but even refraining from giving him a nod took all my strength. I was not comfortable with subterfuge.
Daniel adjusted his coat with an air of a man who did not know me from a rock in the road and walked away.
Cynthia approached. “Lady Covington is asking for you.”
“For me?” I deflated. “Probably to demand to know why I haven’t found the poisoner yet.”
“Well, how could you?” Cynthia balled her hands. “That’s what you sent me to do, but I’ve failed, haven’t I? Jove, Mrs. H., I ate luncheon with them today. The poison can’t have been introduced then, or the rest of us would be rolling about in agony.”
“Then we must discover how it was administered and when. That should help us discover who put it in whatever Erica imbibed.”
“I certainly hope so,” Cynthia said somberly.
She led me after the retreating crowd, the Palace growing eerily silent. I heard only my footsteps and Cynthia’s and our harried breaths.
We caught up to the guests who were milling outside the entrance. Carriages clogged the road, coach lights glowing in the darkness.
Cynthia towed me to Lady Covington’s hired coach. Lady Covington, who waited beside it, barely glanced at me before she was herding me and Cynthia inside.
We took a seat facing Harriet, who twined her fingers together and gazed at anything but me. Someone handed in Lady Covington and slammed the door for her.
“Where is Mrs. Hume?” I asked in bewilderment.
“Jonathan procured a carriage at the front of the pack. He and Erica, the doctor, the vicar, and my brother have gone in that. Jonathan is a resourceful lad.” Lady Covington said it with pride, even in her agitation.
“Did you eat luncheon with the others?” I asked her.