“They will come for me, won’t they?”
“No, we will keep you safe. You are not to be alone. In fact, Percy and I were talking about maybe the pair of you going away...”
“No, no, no,” Felicia said, her voice rising as she spoke over him. “The police are coming for me, the police...”
“The police are coming so that they can find the culprit,” Adelia said soothingly, trying not to use the words “killer” or “murderer”. “The police will make us all safe.”
“But it’s me! I did it, didn’t I?” Felicia wailed. “I killed him!”
“Of course you didn’t,” Adelia said.
Theodore coughed. “Felicia, what do you mean?” he said sternly. “What did you do?”
“Didn’t I do it? I must have done it. My dreams, my nightmares, were full of blood and screaming. My hands hurt. My legs hurt. They hurt, all the time! My head is pounding. I can’t see. I don’t know what I am doing. I don’t know where I am. I hated him, sometimes. I hated him! Why did he come home so that I could kill him?” She began to thrash around, throwing the blanket to the floor, and Adelia cried out. Theodore restrained her, holding her upper arms but Felicia kicked out, her voice becoming a scream as she fought back. She didn’t seem to know who was there any more.
Someone knocked at the door and they ignored it, staying intent on preventing Felicia causing herself or anyone else any harm. “Get my bag,” Theodore hissed to Adelia and she knew what he wanted. She threw open the door as the person outside was about to knock again. It was Mrs Rush, looking strained, with Inspector Wilbred at her side.
“Lord Calaway, a moment of your time, if you will,” the policeman said. His eyes rested on the struggling figure of Felicia, and he almost smiled.
“Good God, man, can’t you wait?”
“There has been a murder. Let the women deal with ... this. You are needed.”
Felicia, panting with exertion, began to slump and Theodore stepped away. She shouted again, “I hated him! I wanted him dead!”
Wilbred cocked his head.
Theodore whirled around to face Wilbred. “And I will attend to you the moment I am able to. Stand aside,” he snapped, and pushed past Wilbred. Adelia took his place at Felicia’s chair but she was growing calmer, or at least, becoming exhausted. Wilbred tutted, a light in his eyes, something that looked very close to triumph.
“Thank you, Mrs Rush,” Adelia said pointedly. Mrs Rush understood and she reached out to close the door on them. The inspector and his smug face were shut out.
Adelia took hold of Felicia’s hands. “My dear, my poor dear, you must not say such things about Percy. You have had bad dreams, you know it; we all do.”
Felicia moaned and shook her head.
Theodore returned swiftly, with his medical bag in his hand, and Lady Agnes was following him with nothing but concern on her face. As soon as she entered the room, Felicia grew agitated again, kicking out and screaming hoarsely now, with spittle appearing at the corners of her mouth.
“No, no, no, not her – not her!”
Adelia jerked her head at Lady Agnes and mouthed, “Sorry!” Lady Agnes, white-faced, withdrew immediately and Felicia began to calm down. Theodore took a syringe from his bag, screening the preparation of the injection by turning his body away. Adelia patted Felicia’s hands. “It is all right.”
“No, not her!” Felicia muttered again.
“Why not? She’s a good friend to you, isn’t she?”
“The curse. The curse! She knows and The Countess knows. They know, they know, they know everything!”
“Keep still,” Theodore muttered, plunging the long thin needle under Felicia’s skin on her forearm.
She was still crying, “They know!” as she slipped into a comatose and unrestful sleep.
Seventeen
The police swarmed over every inch of the castle and Adelia thought that Theodore was correct when he confessed to her that Inspector Wilbred had an unbecoming glee to his manner. Everyone was ordered to stay indoors and a policeman was stationed at every exit. Percy railed at that imposition in particular. “But this is my house,” he shouted angrily. “No one has the right to order an Englishman around in his own house!”
“Hush!” Adelia urged. “Keep your voice down. Show some respect.”
Percy paused his pacing around the drawing room and turned such a look on her that she felt quite abashed. He glared as he hissed, “Respect? I know very well that my valet, a man who was for long years at my right hand, is dead; and my wife, my true sun and moon to my life, the star to which I set my sails, is ill. It is the police that show no respect; send your barbs their way, not mine.”
Adelia knew that he was correct. She apologised. Theodore sat in a window seat, and he too would have been pacing up and down if Percy hadn’t started his own perambulations first. Two men pacing in a small room would have become a ridiculous sort of dance.
Adelia caught Theodore’s eye and they left the room in silence. Out in the corridor, she said, “I don’t like leaving Felicia on her own. I want to go and see her.”
“She has a maid with her. She will be asleep and we must find out what is going on down here. And anyway, what can anyone do?”
She grimaced. That was not what she wanted to hear from a medical man. “I am worried about her, Theodore.”
“We all are – oh.” Theodore stopped talking as Percy joined them in the passage.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Theodore glanced at Adelia and she nodded encouragingly. He turned to Percy and said, “Felicia is gravely ill. I beg of you, if you value her life, send for a doctor at the very
