To Love a Duchess by Karen Ranney

Author:Karen Ranney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-07-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Suzanne couldn’t sleep. Now that she knew what the tonic contained, there wasn’t any doubt in her mind why she hadn’t had a problem with insomnia since Ella had started in her employ. Opium.

She’d read newspaper accounts of opium dens in the East End. More than once she’d been solicited by various individuals and asked to contribute to campaigns against the opium trade. The most influential group had been represented at one of her father’s dinners and it was a cause he purported to espouse.

She had never understood her father and time had not imbued her with any more insight. For some reason he’d thought it necessary for her to take Ella’s tonic. Did he mean for it to soften her grief? Or was it just a way to control her? When it came to her father’s motives, either was possible.

Adam hadn’t told her if she should worry about any ill effects from discontinuing the tonic. Other than being unable to sleep, were there any other symptoms? Or had Ella lied about that? She didn’t doubt that Ella used truth like a weapon.

A little after midnight Suzanne gave up the pretense of sleeping, got up, and slipped on her dressing gown. Of thick, gold-colored quilted flannel, it had a corded belt with a large tassel at each end. A similar cord, without tassels, tied the neck closed. Most of her garments were black, but not her nightgowns and dressing gowns. The dye the laundress used had not only made her skin itch but the color had bled onto the sheets, ruining them. When that had happened, she’d decided not to wear mourning to bed.

Her new maid was a young girl Mrs. Thigpen had recommended. Emily was a sweet person, if a bit cloying. She’d been promoted from her position as one of the upstairs maids and was eager to perform her new duties. Suzanne didn’t think that her wardrobe had ever been so assiduously cared for or her hair done as well.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Grace?” If Emily had asked her once, she’d done so five hundred times in the past two days. Suzanne had assured the girl that she needed nothing further, that Emily was performing every task perfectly, and that she was certain the two of them would deal very well together. Above all, Emily did not try to make her take opium every morning and every evening. That alone would make her well disposed toward the girl.

Suzanne glanced at herself in the pier glass. She’d plaited her hair for night and now wrapped the plait around the top of her head, securing it with pins and a short length of black ribbon. Picking up the atomizer, she sprayed a little of her favorite perfume on her neck, then ridiculed herself for doing so. The scent lingered in the air, reminiscent of early blooming roses.

Ella had always spritzed her with the perfume George had bought her, something spicy that smelled of India, he’d said.

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