Chapter 24

Sebastian urged his horse forward with relentless desperation under the cloak of a dark night, the rhythm of hooves against the earth echoing the rapid beat of his own heart. Each moment, he pushed the animal harder, his heels digging into its flanks, mingling whispered words of encouragement with the urgency of his mission.

The darkness shrouded the path ahead, making each step a blind leap of faith, but nothing could compel him to slow his pace—not until he could confirm with his own eyes that Virtue was safe.

His journey had been abruptly interrupted just hours outside of London, where he and Ralph had sought a brief respite at an inn on the city's outskirts. They were poised to delve into the city come morning to investigate the grim circumstances of Simon's death, but the night brought disruption to his plans—with a messenger bearing urgent news that gripped Sebastian's soul with ice.

The messenger arrived with but a single piece of parchment. And the words etched upon it paled Sebastian's cheeks and sent a chill down his spine, and then he turned and sprinted up the steps as if his life depended on it. A minute at most was spared to wake Ralph and inform him what was happening, then it was downstairs, onto his horse, dashing from the stables without bothering to even collect his things for there simply wasn't time.

Ralph had indeed made every effort to dissuade Sebastian, following him all the way to the stables, his pleas filled with urgency and concern.

"I am sure it is nothing!" he shouted after Sebastian. "The flu, perhaps. You are hardly a physician for your immediate presence to be so important to her recovery!"

"I apologize, Ralph," was all Sebastian could manage as he mounted his stallion. "Truly, I am. But I cannot stay."

"And what of Simon?!" Ralph's voice rose in anger. "The Dragoons, man! We owe him this—think of Jasper!" In a desperate attempt, he clutched the bridle of Sebastian's horse, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation, hoping to make his friend see sense.

That gave Sebastian pause. The Royal Dragoons were more than a battalion of men to Sebastian, they were brothers in arms and there was no line he wouldn't cross for any of them. And as to Jasper, Simon's brother and his closest friend... well, Sebastian owed them both, he felt, and the guilt was enough that for a moment, he hesitated.

But then the image of the note flashed before his eyes—the memory of Virtue's face, the thought of the unspeakable happening if he were too late, if he were never to see her again, and that was enough to push him through the guilt and kick his heels into his mount's side.

"I am sorry, Ralph!" he called as he galloped away. "And I shall return when I have confirmed all is well! I promise!"

And so, he rode without stopping. Not for the bathroom. Not to eat. Not to rest his legs, despite the pain that radiated up them and through his spine. Late night turned early morning turned midday turned dusk turned evening turned to night again. He covered more than a day of travel in less than fifteen hours, knowing that God himself could not stop him.

All the while, that note played in his head.

Lady Virtue has fallen deathly ill. From what, I do not know. But she seeks your presence, Your Grace. She needs you now!

Sebastian could not say the hour when he finally arrived back at Greystone. Nearing midnight he guessed, though the dense cloud cover and absent moonlight cast the night in a perpetual darkness. He pushed his horse to the threshold, dismounting with such urgency that he scarcely allowed the creature to come to a stop before he was bounding up the steps to the castle's front door, and kicking it open with the force of a knight storming a fortress.

"Virtue!" His call pierced the silence of the empty castle. Most of the staff would be abed by now. "Virtue! I am here!" He made for the steps, the pain in his legs and body unimportant.

Thankfully, Lucy appeared at the top of the steps—her expression aghast with shock at the sight of the Duke. "Your Grace! How did you—"

"Where is she?" Sebastian interrupted, his voice tight with urgency.

"In her bedchamber," Lucy responded, descending the stairs to meet him halfway, only to turn back as Sebastian took the stairs two at a time in his haste. "The physician arrived late last night and has not left her side, and Mr. Albion left an hour ago for the village to bring back some equipment at his behest."

"She is alive then?" he asked, not daring to consider the alternative.

"Yes. And recovering."

He reached the top landing and started down the hall. He might have broken into a sprint if it wasn't for how exhausted he was, how strenuous it was suddenly becoming to move his legs. "What happened?"

"We do not know," Lucy explained as she hurried beside him, barely able to keep pace. "She was drinking the tea that we thought you had imported from China—and suddenly, she fell deathly ill."

"The tea?" He came to an abrupt halt and turned on Lucy. "That I ordered from London? The Chinese tea?"

"The very same."

A wave of nausea and dread washed over Sebastian... He reached out a hand and rested it on Lucy's shoulder to stop himself from collapsing. The hallway spun about him and he felt he might be sick. This was his fault... he was the one who... it was he that...

"But that is just the thing, Your Grace!" Lucy hurriedly continued, sensing his distress. "Another package arrived the following day. Containing the real tea that you had imported."

"Wh—what?" he stammered, not understanding.

"When it first arrived, we thought it was the tea we had been expecting. It came in a marked package, perfectly identical to the original import that arrived a day later, save for a few minor differences, and the contents... I couldn't have known! I was the one who brewed it for her..." Lucy's voice broke, her lip trembling as guilt washed over her. "But the next day, more tea came, and that was when I knew..."

"Knew what?"

The maid's face turned ashen. "That someone tried to poison her."

Rage consumed him. The likes of which Sebastian had never known. Such that he could feel the floor shake beneath his feet as he trembled. That the stone walls around him seemed to melt from the inferno that charred within him. This was no accident. No mere misfortune. It was a sinister, calculated assault!

"Virtue!" he cried again, turning on his heel and sprinting the rest of the way to her bedchamber.

Upon entering her chambers, the sight of Virtue lying so still, so pale, on her bed, nearly brought him to his knees. She lay on her back with her eyes closed, seemingly asleep if he hadn't known better. Sebastian stumbled toward the bed, falling to his knees before reaching her, and then crawling the rest of the way until he was by her side.

"Virtue, dear..." he stammered, taking her hand in his. It was ice-cold. "Can you... can you hear me?"

"I administered a sedative," came a deep rumble from the other side of the bed. It was the physician, whom Sebastian had barely registered upon entering. "For now, she is unaware of the world around her."

"What happened?" Sebastian demanded. "Who did this?!"

"A type of poison, Your Grace," the physician said sternly, his voice betraying years of old age and knowledge. "Mingled with authentic tea brewed from Camellia sinensis leaves. It is quite the case. I have not determined the exact nature yet, but it is fortunate she consumed only a small dose, otherwise..." He trailed off, not willing to speak the rest.

"But she will live?" Sebastian pressed, his voice trembling. "She will... she will wake?"

"That she will," the man assured him, and relief washed over Sebastian so powerfully, he nearly broke down. "She is strong," he continued, "a true fighter. I have left medication and instructions with her maid..." His gaze shifted towards the door where Lucy stood silently. "But the best thing for her now is rest. Recovery may take weeks, and she is likely to suffer from dizzy spells, bouts of sickness, and loss of appetite. It will not be easy on her."

"But she will recover?" Sebastian pressed once more, his grip on Virtue's hand unyielding, his eyes never straying from her face.

"In time, yes, she should make a full recovery."

Sebastian knew he should have thanked the doctor. And Lucy, too. He should have fallen to his knees and thanked them both for their quick action in saving Virtue's life. But there would be time for that later. Right now, there wasn't a force in the universe that could tear him from Virtue's side.

He remained kneeling beside the bed, clutching her hand, allowing silent tears to stream freely down his face, indifferent to the eyes that might see him. He even removed his mask, despite the doctor's presence. He needed Virtue to see his face when she awoke, to understand without doubt that he was there and would remain steadfast by her side.

"You are going to be alright," he said in a whisper, sniffing away the tears, and forcing a smile to his lips. "You will be alright."

How long was he by her side that night, he could not tell. Time seemed irrelevant; it stretched and contracted around him in a vigil marked neither by sleep nor sustenance. He did not eat, he did not drink. He simply sat beside her, her hand in his, gently stroking her face, watching over her as she drifted in a restless sleep induced by medicine and weariness. She would recover, he assured himself repeatedly. She would be well again. Yet, such promises did little to assuage the torment that churned within him.

As the night wore on, his thoughts inevitably turned to darker channels—the poison, its origin, and the malevolent force behind it. That it was aimed at Virtue was clear. It had to have been someone who knew her, someone familiar enough with her to know of her penchant for exotic teas. But who? And why? Why would anybody dare to hurt her? Even more harrowing, was it linked to Simon's death in any way? Was someone out to get Sebastian and all those he cared for?

Oh, Sebastian had his suspicions, of course... but they could wait.

A time would come when Sebastian would seek vengeance on whoever did this. And when he did, may God pity them for what he would do. That, however, was a worry for later. Once she woke.

For now, it was enough to remind himself that she would be all right, that he hadn't lost her, that he would never leave her side again. Before he'd left for London, Sebastian had almost told Virtue that he loved her, and just thinking that she might have perished without ever hearing those words from his lips was unbearable...

Leaning in close, he pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "I love you," he whispered, a confession meant for her ears alone, knowing she could not hear but believing still that she understood. He loved her, profoundly and truly, and he knew that this moment was not an ending but a new beginning for them both.