Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

“My Lady, my Lady,” Griffin smiled when Marina entered his manor’s gates once again. He had called for her, merely saying that he had something to share.

“Good news that you bear, I hope?” Marina asked, holding the hem of her dress as she neared him. She felt a large smile cross her face as she neared, a smile she was unable to wear for years. To her satisfaction- he reciprocated the gesture.

“Well, I’m unsure how to describe the news to you, my Lady,” Griffin shrugged, allowing Marina to walk alongside him as they made their way to their usual meeting spot- the study.

Inside Marina took a few minutes to exchange greetings with Beth, who she had grown rather fond of during her visits to the Stanton Manor. Marina enjoyed her passion that she showed within all her hobbies; thus, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by them herself.

“What might you be busying yourself with today, dear Beth?” Marina asked as she leaned out of a large window in the study, looking over at Beth knelt down in the garden.

“Harvesting some herbs, my Lady!” Beth yelled back as she wiped her only hand across her face, leaving a trail of mud on her nose. Marina couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

Beth stood up, picking up the weaved basket from beside her and walked toward Marina, still near the window. She held out a dirt covered hand; purple flowers visible between her fingers.

“Some lavender, my Lady. It helps calm the nerves,” Beth said as she dropped the faint flowers into the palm of Marina.

“I think you ought to give me some as well,” Griffin said, leaning over Marina from behind. “You can’t calm one and leave the other in distress.”

“Your Grace, you appear just fine to me,” Beth laughed. “You already have a great lady at your side, so I fail to believe that you have much to worry about.”

“I can’t deny your statements, Beth,” Griffin said, looking over to Marina with a slight smile. Marina laughed at him, offering him a single strand of lavender which he happily took.

“I might as well continue all the traditions of the prior duke,” Griffin said as he placed the twig of lavender into a journal, pressing it down as he closed it and placed the journal into a drawer. On the desk lay a different journal, already opened onto a page. Before the duke continued, he made sure to close the window Marina had been leaning out of.

The page caught Marina’s eye, as several visible scribbles could be seen in the margins with symbols she couldn’t understand.

“I haven’t continued to read ever since I reached this point,” Griffin said, gesturing to the journal in front of them. “I thought it best if you were alongside me.”

Marina picked up the journal, seeing the date written down to be a couple days prior to the death of Griffin’s father. Marina pointed to the date, causing Griffin to nod in acknowledgement.

“This could be the information we have been looking for,” Marina said underneath her breath. “You do the honours, Your Grace.”

Griffin cautiously picked up the book as both of them took seats at opposite ends of the desk. Griffin drew in a deep breath.

“I believe my mind no longer to be my friend,” Griffin started reading, his fingers slightly shaking as he held the book between his palms. “In life I have few friends, but as soon as I reach solitude…”

Marina looked up a Griffin when he paused with the sentence, expecting him to have found the information they’ve been seeking. Instead, he looked rather perplexed, bringing the book closer to his face.

“My father scribbled over his words here,” Griffin said. “I have no idea what he may have written.”

“Continue, perhaps we are able to fill in the words later on,” Marina commented as she sat at the edge of her seat. Griffin cleared his throat, once again turning to the pages of the book.

“The men persist in their relentless dance before my eyes, even after I had called them to stop. It’s a late hour and I long to sleep, but they twist and turn and laugh in my ears until I find myself unable to fall asleep. Griffin had passed through my study, but I feel he might be growing ill- he hadn’t commented on the dancing men, merely walking through them.”

Marina and Griffin took a moment to face one another, their hearts sinking in their chests. Had Griffin’s father been mad?

“At first, I dismissed the figures as sheer figments of my worried mind, but the moment they started to mock and tease me I knew them to be real. They seem so familiar yet so distorted- a couple of times I’ve tried to reach them with my hand, but they run too quick. I’ve drank several cups of tea in attempt to calm my system, but they make the task impossible. Somehow, they possess the capability to make my hands heavy at command. Thus, I struggle to write.”

Griffin’s eyes slowly looked up at Marina, who felt her whole body shake in immense stress.

“Had my father gone mad? Are these descriptions of hallucinations?” Griffin asked with a heavy voice. He threw the notebook back onto the desk in a rather aggressive manner.

“If he had gone mad, could he possibly have…” Marina paused, looking over at Griffin.

“Committed suicide?” Griffin sighed, sinking down into his seat as he placed both hands on his head.

“So, there could be a possibility that uncle Josiah hadn’t murdered him?” Marina asked, already knowing the answer to be yes. A part of her just desperately yearned for someone to assure her that it had been her uncle, and that this entire arrangement hadn’t been for nothing.

Griffin avoided the question, not wanting to think about the possibility. He merely stood up in silence, taking the journal into his hands once again. Before Marina could blink, Griffin had flung the journal across the room in anger, a couple of pressed leaves falling from the pages as it twirled through the room.

“Gosh, I hope this isn’t a possibility. W-why would Josiah have sent those blackmail letters?” Griffin yelled.

“He’s a money-loving man, Your Grace. Why would he kill someone who was paying him?” Marina said, standing to her feet in attempts to calm Griffin down.

“No, no, no,” Griffin mumbled as he paced about. “This doesn’t feel right.”

Marina stood in silence, her thoughts running while with questions she doubted anyone could answer. But, among these questions one stood out.

“Why my father, then?” she said out loud, causing Griffin to turn in his axis to face her.

“Your father?” he asked, his eyes nearly piercing through Marina in confusion.

“Sit down, Your Grace,” Marina sighed, realising her mistake would need an explanation. Griffin complied to her requests, sitting back at the chair he occupied earlier.

“Your father wasn’t the only one who passed with an unexplainable death,” Marina sighed, thinking back to her dear father whom she had loved so much. “My father passed away shortly after yours, so I joined this entire investigation in hopes of finding answers for him. I thought maybe uncle Josiah might have had a hand in his death.”

Griffin’s angered eyes slowly started to soften. Marina had garnered his full attention.

“He had been a man of great health,” Marina said, looking at the desk rather than directly at Griffin. “I couldn’t understand what possibly could kill him so abruptly. But as I walked into his room one morning, I was met with the lifeless body of my father. Uncle Josiah had visited the night prior, and my father hadn’t looked too happy with him when he left. I couldn’t help but think that, maybe, there had been some connection there.”

“Might that be your reason for joining the investigation, my Lady?” Griffin asked softly. “Perhaps your father might’ve been a victim as well?”

Marina nodded, trying to prevent herself from shedding any tears. A part of her wanted to think that they’ve been focused on the wrong victim for too long, that perhaps Marina’s father was the actual one who suffered at uncle Josiah’s hands.

“This case had become difficult, my Lady. But I promise I won’t stop searching until I have definite answers about both our fathers’ deaths,” Griffin assured Marina, placing one hand on top of her own hand lied on the desk. Marina attempted to give him a smile, but her heart felt quite heavy.

“Your Grace! Why would you have this?!” Beth yelled. Marina jolted around to see Beth had entered the room, placing a tray of tea on a nearby table. She was bent down to the floor, holding one of the leaves that had fallen from Griffin’s father’s journal when he flung it about the room.

“It’s just some pressed leaves my father kept in his journals. If you’d be so kind as to throw them away, I’d appreciate it,” Griffin commented nonchalantly, but appeared as confused as Marina about Beth’s disgust with the leaf.

“Why would your father have this, Your Grace?” Beth continued, starting to near the pair with a single leaf in her hand. She cautiously placed it on the desk. Griffin attempted to stretch out a hand to grab it, but Beth prohibited him from doing so.

“What’s wrong with the leaf?” Griffin asked, a bit annoyed at Beth’s strange behaviour regarding something that appears on every tree to exist.

“Your Grace, this is Belladonna,” Beth said softly, as if the word carried some curse to it. She carefully stroked a single finger over it, investigating the veins running through the single leaf.

“Why does the leaf have a formal name?” Griffin asked irritated. “Should I greet Belladonna and call myself the Duke of Darrington?”

Beth shot an aggravated look over at Griffin. Marina wanted to giggle at how uncanny it was that they appeared as fighting siblings, but found herself more intrigued with the leaf as well.

“It’s the scientific name, Your Grace,” Beth spelt out to Griffin as if he was unable to understand a basic concept. “Known better as deadly nightshade.”

“What?!” Marina spat out. She hadn’t intended to sound so unladylike, but was genuinely surprised at the information. “It’s poison?”

“Yes, my Lady. It’s a highly poisonous plant. Thus, I can’t understand why it would be in possession of the Stanton Manor,” Beth replied. “We don’t have any plant of the sorts outside.”

Griffin’s face started to drain itself of colour, nearly reaching the shade of a white piece of parchment. Marina could only guess which thoughts were running through his head, because the same were running through hers.

“On second thought, please don’t throw them away, Beth. It’s not something I can explain to you currently, but you’ll know what we know eventually,” Griffin said gravely. Beth had finally allowed him to touch the leaf, causing him to slowly slide it over the desk to himself.

Beth looked at him inquisitively, but shook it off quickly.

“As long as you don’t intend to poison me, Your Grace,” Beth said rather seriously, which unnerved Marina a bit. She would’ve been a bit shaken if she hadn’t noticed the slight giggle Beth gave afterward.

“No one would be poisoned; I can promise you that. It’s more of a matter of who had already been poisoned,” Griffin said, quickly realizing he had been sharing slightly too much information with Beth.

Beth looked at him questioning, but remained silent on the matter. If the leaves came from Griffin’s father Nicholas, something in her mind had to connect the dots itself.

“What does it do, once ingested?” Marina asked, leaning closer to have a better look at the Belladonna.

“Well, the plant has berries that often gets eaten accidentally. They have few to no taste, making it common in cases where wife’s fall tired of their husbands. Blend a couple berries in and it’s the last time someone says goodnight to you. But the leaves and remainder of the plant serve to be quite poisonous as well,” Beth started. Marina was a bit dumbfounded of Beth’s knowledge on this matter, occasionally having to remind herself that Beth was in her own way, a botanist. “Often, if consumed, the person tends to have some symptoms. I’ve heard of people getting nauseous or having a headache. Some even face some hallucinations.”

Marina and Griffin looked at one another simultaneously, knowing well what ran through their heads. Griffin thanked Beth for the tea and her relay of information in an effort to make her leave, to which she hesitantly complied.

After Beth was out of sight, a brief silence filled the atmosphere. The study was starting to grow darker as evening rolled by, meaning it was nearly time for Marina to leave. But she couldn’t leave at this very instance.

“I think Josiah poisoned my father,” Griffin’s voice echoed through the room. Marina felt a heartache scratch at her chest, knowing it hurt Griffin in the same way. She gently stretched out her hand to him, which he held tightly in his own.