The Poisoner's Game

Chapter 23

M.

Miriam pulled me out of the room and into the hallway. "Margaret, I have never seen you look at a man the way you looked at that one."

"I don't look at Alexander any differently than any other man of my acquaintance." I folded my arms over my chest. I paused when I realized I used Alexander's Christian name.

"Alexander, is it?" Miriam smiled, head tilted, and eyebrows raised. I'd entrapped myself.

"Yes," I replied through gritted teeth. "May he stay?"

"If you tell me what he means to you." Miriam tapped her foot, a grave expression on her face.

"I don't know yet." I bit my lip in partial truth. A veil of shyness tightened around my chest. "He's courting me, officially, and the Wellmonts are not pleased."

"Margaret. Am I not your dearest friend? I know when you're lying to me."

I grumbled, bouncing on my feet. "Fine." I whispered into her ear so that no one else could hear, "For the sake of my safety, please tell anyone who asks that Lord Alexander is courting me. He is a gentleman, and I am not in danger from him, but from outside forces he is doing his utmost to protect me from."

"What does that mean? Will you be all right? Why are you in danger?" Miriam's eyes scoured the room, fixing upon Alexander.

A footman knocked into us before I could respond. Miriam and I gave each other a look, our eyes narrowed at his retreating back.

"I believe that was our footman, John Kiles. I'll have Mr. Richards speak with him," Miriam clucked impatiently.

"It was probably an accident."

"Nevertheless," Miriam shook her head, "he did not apologize. Now tell me everything."

"It has to do with my parents, but that is all I can tell you." I hedged, guilt consuming me.

"I've been in London for three weeks, Margaret. I hadn't heard from you once until you accepted my invitation." Miriam's wounded eyes cut through me. Miriam and I visited each other every week in Bristol since we were seven years old. Three weeks was a long time.

"I..."

"Has this man kidnapped you or forced you in any way?" Miriam grabbed my shoulders stretching on her tiptoes to look directly into my eyes.

"What? No. Lord Alexander is a man of good character. I promise. This is not a gothic novel." I half-laughed, wondering if perchance gothic heroines didn't know they were in gothic novels. "I am sorry for not visiting sooner."

Miriam scanned my face, and I could tell she did not fully believe me. "If that is all you can tell me so be it. But, I'll reserve my judgement on liking him." Miriam hugged me. "I'm happy you're here."

Somebody cleared his throat. "Lady Margaret?" I looked over my shoulder and met Alexander's eyes.

Miriam looked up at him, her eyes narrowed with suspicion before she smoothed her facial expression. "It's your lucky night Lord Alexander, Mr. Gibbins had to leave early. We have a seat open for you at the table."

Alexander raised his brows. "How generous, thank you."

From the parlor, Mr. Richards announced dinner. Mere seconds later the hallway filled with the rest of Miriam's guests.

"Oh, Margaret, darling!" Mrs. Jacobs' singsong voice, tinged with a German accent, saturated the hallway. Blonde-grey hair in an elegant coif, Miriam's mother embodied the epitome of beauty. She sashayed over to me giving me a kiss on each cheek. "It has been so long, dear. The season has been ever so lovely to us." I watched as Miriam's face went ashen.

Miriam stopped her mother from speaking further, a strained smile upon her lips. "Mother, let me introduce you to Lord Alexander Rocque, Margaret's guest, who will be joining us."

Mrs. Jacobs held out her elegant hand, and Alexander kissed it. "A pleasure to have you attend our little party, my lord."

"Thank you for making accommodations on such short notice." Alexander straightened.

Mrs. Jacobs nodded her head humbly as she looped her arm through mine, guiding me to the dining room, "I do hope you'll escort my daughter, my lord." I looked back over my shoulder and saw Alexander and Miriam sizing each other up.

At the table, the other guests stood near their chairs. Miriam came in behind me and scanned the table. "Lord Alexander Rocque? Pardon me for not knowing, but what is your rank?"

"I prefer to be ranked by my earned position, I am a First Lieutenant in the Royal Navy," Alexander responded dryly.

Miriam looked over at me. "Let me rearrange the table."

Alexander put up a hand to stop her. "It is no matter, Miss Jacobs. I will sit where you put me."

"I insist, my lord."

Miriam moved her guests around so that Alexander was at his proper place next to her mother. I, on the other hand, sat on Miriam's right hand at the opposite end of the table. She had separated us on purpose rather than by rank.

With our first course in front of us, I leaned toward Miriam and whispered, "I know what you did."

She smiled impishly in return. "I want you all to myself. I don't need dimples distracting you."

The tension flowed from my shoulders. At least she was not angry with me. With a sigh of relief, I put Miriam on the sticky wicket. "Why is the Earl of Ainsworth leaving his calling card for you?" I waggled my brows suggestively. Miriam's eyes lit up, as I had never seen them do before. I thoroughly distracted her. Whatever, questions she had about my own odd behavior evaporated like water on a balmy day.

Miriam blushed prettily and went on to tell me of the wonderfulness of Marcley Chambers, Earl of Ainsworth, and how he was the most perfect gentleman in all of London. "Mama and Papa want me to marry a mensch—a good Jewish man. But if a Rothschild can marry a Christian, why can't I?" She glared across the table at her unaware mother, before laughing.

After dinner, we sat on the settee side-by-side, drinking tea from delicate white china cups detailed with golden spirals. I filled myself with treacle tart and clotted cream. Being with my dearest friend felt like returning home. I promised myself that when the investigation ended, I would spend more time with Miriam before she married the Earl of Ainsworth or even more likely use him to explore the world. Her parents rarely could do much to stop her, once her mind was made up. I hoped he was worthy of her innocent kindness. Many times, in our childhood I had to protect Miriam from those who wished to use her generous disposition for their own gain.

A knot of unsaid words formed in my stomach and I found the urge to bring the new knowledge of my past to our conversation, but something held me back. All the while, I watched Alexander circle the room out of the corner of my eye. He always could naturally integrate himself into any situation that arose. I wish I had that skillset.

After dessert, Miriam made me promise her I wouldn't let more than a week go by before seeing her next. In the carriage with Alexander, a semblance of my past reality fit back into place. I didn't realize how much I missed Miriam, or how comforting her familiar life would be, especially when mine had been completely up-ended.

"I'm glad someone else is protective of you," Alexander broke the silence.

"Yes, she is." I paused, "Who else is protective of me?"

"I am," Alexander looked straight into my eyes, "which is why I want to ask you to stay close to home for the next few days."

"Why?" I asked, immediately suspicious.

"I'll be away," Alexander responded.

"Where will you be?" Every thought I'd had of danger, dumped like a slop bucket onto the street, hit me with sudden dread.

"I've found your father's solicitor in Camden Town."

"Isn't Camden Town dangerous?" I asked, my breath escaping me.

"No, only unfashionable," Alexander laughed. "I shouldn't be gone more than three days, and I'll be back by four days at most. Promise me, you'll stay close to home?"

"Yes, I promise."