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Beatrice tucked the note away. “A kind gesture, that’s all.” The secret smile on her lips told me there was more to it. D
“What did you say?” Alistair asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
Beatrice met her husband’s gaze unflinchingly. “The medicine that helped me last night was from Elara, not Caleb.”
Fiona’s knuckles had gone white where she gripped her mother’s bed rail. “But Caleb said-”
My throat tightened with emotion. “Mrs. Dubois-”
“Better,” I replied, conscious of the family watching us from down the hall. “Your assistant made quite an impression.”
I kept my face carefully neutral, even as satisfaction bloomed in my chest. Caleb’s lie had been exposed in the most public way possible.
“Because I’m tired of watching them dismiss you.” Her eyes, so like mine, held a fierce light. “You’ve always been kinder to me than my own daughter, yet they treat you like dirt beneath their shoes.”
“We’ll see,” I murmured.
When I left the room, I found Arthur himself waiting in the corridor, leaning against the wall with casual elegance. My heart did a stupid little flip at the sight of him.
I smiled mysteriously. “Just a business matter.”
She scoffed. “We’re perfect together. And after today’s humiliation is forgotten, everything will return to normal–you being nothing, and me getting everything.”
Alistair cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the turn of events. “Well, it seems we owe Arthur our gratitude.”
I looked up, surprised to be addressed directly. “Yes?”
“No mistake, Mr. Sterling,” Philip interrupted smoothly. “Mr. Arthur Sterling called the hospital director personally at 8:15 yesterday morning. I was present for the call.” He
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turned to Beatrice with a polite smile. “He wanted to ensure Mrs. Dubois received the best care available.”
“Thank you,”
Catrice said, her voice stronger than I’d heard it in months. “But I’ll just be taking the special medication that was brought in yesterday.”
Philip’s smile was razor–thin. “Mr. Sterling makes it his business to know about matters that affect those in his circle.”
I slipped it into my pocket without reading it, oddly touched by her gesture.
“How is she?” he asked quietly.
“That’s right,” Caleb said quickly, eager to reclaim some authority. “It’s a specialized sleeping aid from overseas. Not yet approved here, but highly effective.”
Fiona gave a dismissive laugh. “Mother, that’s impossible. What could Elara possibly provide that would help your condition? She’s not a doctor.”
“I’ll take Elara’s medicine,” Beatrice said firmly.
“No. We have things to discuss.” His voice was low, meant only for me. “Particularly about your… pharmaceutical talents.”
“Mr. Sterling asked me to remind you about your dinner engagement this evening. He’ll
send a car at seven.”
Later that night, after returning to the Dubois mansion, Fiona cornered me in the hallway.
“I didn’t realize I needed your permission to help Mrs. Dubois,” Caleb snapped, recovering his composure. “Unlike you, I actually have access to the best medical
resources.”
I sat on the edge of her bed. “I’m glad it helped. But why did you tell them?”
The sound of someone fighting desperately to breathe.
I started to move toward the stairs, alarmed. The herbal components of my medicine were carefully balanced. Changing treatments abruptly could be dangerous.
“Mother, you need to rest,” Fiona protested immediately.
“Good. It’s time someone/recognized your brilliance.” She pressed something into my
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hand–the note from Arthur. “Keep this. It’s proof of what he thinks of you.”
“Now go,” she said with a smile. “I’ve stirred up enough trouble for one day. And you should prepare for your dinner with Arthur Sterling”
“Dinner engagement?” Fiona echoed, her voice tight with jealousy.
“Indeed,” Beatrice said softly, opening the envelope Philip had handed her. Her eyes widened as she read the note inside.
The door opened again, and a nurse entered with a tray of medication. “Time for your morning dose, Mrs. Dubois.”
With that parting shot, he left, leaving me to face the stunned expressions of the Dubois family and the barely contained fury of Caleb Sterling.
“Yet somehow your ‘best resources‘ didn’t secure this hospital room,” I pointed out quietly.
I laughed softly. “I noticed.”
“Does she?” Arthur’s gaze shifted to me, something like amusement in his eyes.
Caleb’s confident expression faltered. “Of course it’s been-”
The implication was clear, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks. But Arthur merely smiled, the kind of smile that made smart people take a step back.
The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife. Philip cleared his throat.
Reluctantly, they filed out–Genevieve throwing me a venomous glance, Alistair looking troubled, and Caleb practically dragging a protesting Fiona.
Caleb’s face darkened with rage, and I savored the moment. Let him think what he
wanted.
“What is it, Mother?” Fiona asked, trying to peer over Beatrice’s shoulder.
“Enough of this nonsense,” Alistair said, his patience clearly at an end. “Beatrice, you’ll take the medication Caleb provided. It’s been properly vetted by actual medical
professionals.”
“Perhaps Caleb was confused about which accommodations he arranged,” I suggested innocently. The look Caleb shot me could have frozen hell.
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“Has it?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Has it been tested specifically for her condition? Has it been checked for interactions with her other medications?”
I nodded, surprised by her perceptiveness. “Some of it.”
Arthur straightened, closing the distance between us. “I meant what I said about dinner.”
Arthur’s expression cooled instantly. “Nephew.”
I bit my tongue. My medicine wasn’t a sleeping aid at all, but a respiratory support formula I’d developed specifically for Beatrice’s condition.
“I know why you brought Arthur into this,” she continued softly. “The note explains it all. He knows, doesn’t he? About what you’ve been creating?”
All eyes turned to me. I raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.
I smiled. “You seem very concerned about my marriage, Fiona. Trouble in paradise with Caleb?”
Before I could respond, Philip stepped forward. “If I may, sir. Mr. Sterling made the arrangements of his own accord after learning of Mrs. Dubois’s condition. He holds the highest respect for her.”
The silence in the hospital room was deafening. Every eye was fixed on Philip Mercer, who stood there with perfect composure, seemingly unaware of the bombshell he’d just dropped.
“Is that true?” Alistair demanded. “Did you ask your… husband… to do this?”
Beatrice reached for my hand and squeezed it gently. “Elara, could I have a moment alone with you?”
“Actually,” he said, his voice dangerously soft, “I find my wife’s compassion to be one of her most admirable qualities.” He glanced at me. “Don’t you agree?”
“By whom?” I pressed. “Which doctor approved it?”
“If there’s nothing else, I should take my leave. Mr. Sterling will be pleased to hear Mrs. Dubois is improving.” He nodded respectfully to Beatrice, then turned to go. At the door, he paused. “Oh, and Miss Dubois?”
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“We were just discussing the medicine situation,” Fiona said with false sweetness. “It seems your wife thinks her home remedies are superior to actual medical care.”
“Of course, sir,” the doctor replied. “We’ll administer it tonight instead of the other
one.”
Genevieve, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly found her voice. “This is ridiculous! Are we supposed to believe Arthur Sterling personally intervened for someone he doesn’t even know? Clearly this is all Elara’s doing–she’s using her so–called marriage to manipulate the situation!”
“There must be some mistake,” Caleb finally stammered, his face flushed with humiliation. “I specifically spoke with hospital administration about—”
Before I could respond, Caleb and Fiona approached, their faces twin masks of displeasure.
“I’ll only be a moment,” Beatrice assured her. “Please, all of you, give us the room.”
Catching his cue, I leaned slightly toward him. “I’m glad you think so, husband.”
But before I could intervene, a horrible, choked coughing erupted from Beatrice’s room, followed by gasping and a crash.
The nurse looked confused. “I have two different prescriptions here. One from Dr. Lambert, and one that was apparently brought in by…” she checked her notes, “a Mr. Caleb Sterling?”
Caleb’s face had gone from red to an ugly purple. “Why would my uncle care about Mrs. Dubois? He’s never even met her!”
The room went still.
I felt all eyes on me. Swallowing hard, I stepped forward. “It’s a herbal remedy. Nothing special.”
Once we were alone, Beatrice sighed deeply. “Thank you for the medicine. I haven’t
breathed this easily in years.”
