Seduce Me at Sunrise (The Hathaways #2)(81)

Kev sat on the edge of the berth and put his hand on Rohan's icy forehead. " Cam," he said urgently. " Cam, it's Merripen. Open your eyes. Tell me what happened."

Rohan struggled to control the tremors, to focus his gaze, but it was clearly impossible. He tried to form a word, but all he could produce was an incoherent sound.

Flattening a hand on Rohan's chest, Kev felt a ferocious and irregular heartbeat. He swore, recognizing that no man's heart, no matter how strong, could go on at that manic pace for long.

"He must have eaten some herb without knowing it was harmful," the rom phuro commented, looking troubled.

Kev shook his head. "My brother is very familiar with medicinal plants. He would never make that kind of mistake." Staring down at Rohan's drawn face, Kev felt a mixture of fury and compassion. He wished his own heart could take over the work for his brother's. "Someone poisoned him."

"Tell me what I can do," the tribe leader said quietly.

"First, we need to get rid of as much of the poison as possible."

"His stomach emptied before we brought him into the vardo."

That was good. But for the reaction to be this bad, even after expelling the poison, meant it was a highly toxic substance. The heart beneath Kev's hand seemed ready to burst from Rohan's chest. He would go into convulsions soon. "Something must be done to slow his pulse and ease the tremors," Kev said curtly. "Do you have laudanum?"

"No, but we have raw opium."

"Even better. Bring it quickly."

The rom phuro gave orders to a pair of women who had come to the entrance of the vardo. In less than a minute, they had produced a tiny jar of thick brown paste. It was the dried fluid of the unripened poppy pod. Scraping up some of the paste with the tip of a spoon, Kev tried to feed it to Rohan.

Rohan's teeth clattered violently against the metal, his head jerking until the spoon was dislodged. Doggedly Kev slid his arm beneath Rohan's neck and lifted him upward. " Cam. It's me. I've come to help you. Take this for me. Take it now." He shoved the spoon back into Rohan's mouth and held it there while he choked and shook in Kev's grip. "That's it," Kev murmured, withdrawing the spoon after a moment. He laid a warm hand on his brother's throat, rubbing gently. "Swallow. Yes, phral, that's it."

The opium worked with miraculous speed. Soon the tremors began to subside, and the frantic gasping eased. Kev wasn't aware of holding his breath until he let it out in a relieved sigh. He put his palm over Rohan's heart, feeling the jerking rhythm slow.

"Try giving him some water," the tribe leader suggested, handing a carved wooden cup to Kev. He pressed the edge of the cup against Rohan's lips, and coaxed him to take a sip.

The heavy lashes lifted, and Rohan focused on him with effort. "Kev…"

"I'm here, little brother."

Rohan stared and blinked. He reached up and clutched the placket of Kev's open-necked shirt like a drowning man. "Blue," he whispered raggedly. "Everything… blue."

Kev slid his arm around Rohan's back and gripped him firmly. He glanced at the rom phuro, and tried desperately to think. He'd heard of such a symptom before, a blue haze over the vision. It was caused by taking too much of a potent heart medicine. "It could be digitalis," he murmured. "But I don't know what that derives from."

"Foxglove," the rom phuro said. His tone was matter-of-fact, but his face was taut with anxiety. "Quite lethal. Kills livestock."

"What's the antidote?" Kev asked sharply.

The leader's reply was soft. "I don't know. I don't even know if there is one."

Chapter Twenty-one

After dispatching a footman for the village doctor, Leo decided to go to the Gypsy camp and see how Rohan was faring. Leo couldn't stand the inactivity or suspense of waiting. And he was deeply troubled by the thought of anything happening to Rohan, who seemed to have become the linchpin of the entire family.

Rapidly navigating his way down the grand staircase, Leo had just reached the entrance hall when he was approached by Miss Marks. She had a housemaid in tow and was holding the hapless girl by the wrist. The maid was pale and red-eyed.

"My lord," Miss Marks said tersely, "I bid you to come with us to the parlor immediately. There is something you should-"

"In your supposed knowledge of etiquette, Marks, you should know that no one bids the master of the house to do anything."

The governess's stern mouth twisted impatiently. "Devil take etiquette. This is important."

"Very well. Apparently you must be humored. But tell me here and now, as I've no time for parlor chitchat."

"The parlor," she insisted.

After a brief glance heavenward, Leo followed the governess and housemaid through the entrance hall. "I warn you, if this is about some trivial household matter, I'll have your head. I've got a pressing issue to deal with right now, and-"

"Yes," Marks cut him off as they walked swiftly to the parlor. "I know about that."

"You do? Hang it all, Mrs. Barnstable wasn't supposed to tell anyone."

"Secrets are rarely kept belowstairs, my lord."

As they went into the parlor, Leo stared at the governess's straight spine, and experienced the same sting of irritation he always felt in her presence. She was like one of those unreachable itches on one's back. It had something to do with the coil of light brown hair pinned so tightly at her nape. And the narrow torso and tiny corseted waist, and the dry, pristine paleness of her skin. He couldn't help thinking about what it would be like to unlace, unpin, and unloosen her. Remove her spectacles. Do things that would make her all pink and steamy and profoundly bothered.