Splintered Heart (The Bentons and Northcutts 2) ✅

Chapter Nine

April 25th, 1667

"A disease...a disease that selects who becomes ill..." Phoebe rubbed both hands over her face as she poured over the medical book in front of her. "If it's not a curse, then what is it...?"

A teacup and saucer were suddenly placed on the table beside her. She looked up to see Rafe smiling down at her. "You should not push yourself too hard and risk exhaustion again, Miss Phoebe."

"Thank you, Mister Rafe." Phoebe motioned for him to sit down and she showed him her book. "I've been trying to find similarities in pathogens from the past to now, but I have not had much luck."

"I greatly appreciate you working so hard, even after the loss you suffered," Rafe said. "But I wish that you would allow yourself to relax. I do not want you to collapse from exhaustion again."

Phoebe shook her head and smiled a little at him. "I will rest when I find out what has been causing all of this."

She found great comfort from Rafe's presence, and Phoebe found that when he smiled at her she couldn't help but smile back. She was aware that he had stayed at her bedside while she collapsed, and he had made sure that she did not receive any more laudanum. But when she had recovered he had insisted that she move to Briar Keep to stay. As much as she wanted to stay in town and be near the clinic, Phoebe also felt indebted to Rafe for his continued help. All he had asked was that she stay at the Northcutt castle for the duration of her stay.

It was a longer commute to the village, but the Northcutt family seemed happy to let her use their resources. And they had an expansive library of books that she could read. And...she had to admit that she did enjoy spending time with Rafe, especially since he genuinely seemed to want to help her whilst also helping his own family.

But don't forget your promise, she warned herself, looking down at her book. "I only wish I could find a common link between those who fell ill," she murmured.

"Miss Phoebe," Rafe said, his tone turning cautious. "I hate to remind you of tragedy, but...was there anything about Mister Benjamin's activities that seemed off to you? Did he have—company," he pressed reluctantly. "Or eat anything unusual?"

Phoebe wasn't offended by the question. "Benjamin was my diligent escort," she said softly. It didn't hurt as much to speak about her cousin as it had right after he died. "He was still mourning his wife before we came here. And he ate the same foods as me." She frowned as a memory came to her. "Though...his last words. He mentioned ale."

"Ale?" Rafe's brow rose in confusion. "I have drunk the ale here and haven't fallen ill."

"As have I." Phoebe picked up her teacup. "So I don't know if he was thirsty, or he thought something was wrong with ale he had drunk."

She lifted the teacup to her lips, but the moment the liquid touched her tongue she felt a spike of alarm filled her body. She abruptly set the teacup down, and scrubbed at her mouth with her sleeve. "M-Miss Phoebe, what's wrong?!" Rafe exclaimed, standing up.

"The water!" Phoebe cried out. She hurried towards the door of the sitting room. "No one drink the water!"

*

Rafe stood between Phoebe and Siobhán as the cook examined the freshly opened water barrel. The older woman frowned in confusion as she peered at the water. "I think," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Beggin' your pardon, Milord. I believe I see a...green hue."

"A green hue?!" Elisa exclaimed, pressing a hand to her throat.

"Bring a lantern!" Rafe announced, rushing forward. The cook moved aside, and another servant hurried forward with a freshly lit lantern. He held the lantern over the barrel and Rafe peered at the water closely. Bile rose in his throat, as the flames confirmed the sight of a green swirl in the barrel. "There is a hue," he said, looking up again. "When was this barrel filled?"