Scandal - COMPLETED

Chapter Thirty-Three

It had been three days. Three days since I received the threat. Three days since we decided to ignore their demands. Three days since John had taken my virginity and he and Henry had given me the most intense orgasms of my life.

In that time, John and I attended a ball, a large dinner, and then a fete without incident. Henry remained safely ensconced in his art studio, and at last report, nothing untoward or suspicious had happened within our home or the surrounding neighborhood. The mole our enemy had planted in the house had yet to expose themselves. No move had been made against us publicly.

I searched the papers every day with voracity. Not one word had been printed about us since the morning after Glover's ball. It set me on edge. When would it happen? How would they expose us? Would the caricature be printed in a gossip rag? Or plastered all over London? Every time I stepped out of the house, I expected something dreadful to befall me. To be called out in a parlor by one of the ladies I kept company with. To be ambushed by some unseen agent.

This constant anxiety had started to wear me thin, and I'd spent the last few nights in my own rooms, pacing until the wee hours and sleeping fitfully when I finally took to my bed. I almost prayed that I found the caricature soon. I wanted to get it over with. Because at least I could do something in the fallout of a scandal. This purgatory of helplessness was torture.

With a huff, I set down the last of this morning's gossip rags. There was nothing in them. At least not in the ones I was tasked with reading. Bracing myself, I took a sip of tea.

A low, amused chuckle came from across the table. "Your face, Kit."

I choked down the liquid and met Henry's eyes over the top of the paper he held. "It's Mrs. Marston. She's the enemy agent." I lifted my cup. "This is clearly poison."

He set his paper down and leaned forward to snatch the cup from my hands. "It can't be that bad."

"See for yourself then."

He drew it toward his mouth and made to take a drink, but then his nostrils twitched and he hesitated, sniffing. Ah yes, that lovely wave of putrescent plant yuck must have hit his nose. With a frown, he took the tiniest sip imaginable. I felt vindicated when he immediately started choking, as if his body was trying to expel the liquid before he could swallow it.

"You're right," he said, coughing. "It's poison."

I took the cup back from him and forced myself to drink down the last of it in one large gulp. I had to brace my hands against the edge of the table when I was done, willing the contents of my stomach to stay where they were.

"What is in that?" Henry asked.

I shook my head. I couldn't speak yet. The threat of sicking up was still too strong. Only once I had control of myself – after several deep breaths in and out through my nose – did I answer. "A mixture of herbs that are supposed to keep me from getting with child."

He glanced at my empty cup as though he expected it to sprout arms and legs and launch an attack against him. "Why don't you try sweetening it with sugar or honey?"

I shot him a blank look. "I put three cubes of sugar in that."

"And it's still so foul?"

I nodded.

His expression softened. "I'm sorry, Kit."

I glanced at the door. We were in the yellow sitting room, where we'd taken to sharing our morning tea while we combed through newspapers. Adnan was stationed just outside. Not wanting my voice to carry, I leaned forward and dropped it to a near whisper. "For more nights like the one we shared, I would endure far worse than that tea."