The Hidden Heiress by Juliet Moore Read Free Book Online

replied. She coughed. "Though your tea was terrible, it tasted quite peculiar."
    Isabel took a deep breath. "I don't understand how you drank it so fast if you didn't even like it."
    Paige coughed again.
    "Are you all right?"
    "I don't know." She clutched her throat. "I can't breathe."
    Fear enveloped her as she thought of what had happened when she'd first come to London. Her tea had been poisoned. Just like then, she'd had no warning. No precognition; no prickly feeling in the back of her neck.
    But this time, Paige was being attacked.
    Isabel rushed to her side. "Take slow, calm breaths, Paige."
    "I think I'm going to vomit," she gasped.
    Pangs of guilt mingled with hope. If the girl could expunge the toxins from her body, she might survive. But what if she didn't? Isabel touched Paige's forehead. It was far too hot. "I'm going to get your mother."
    Paige gripped her arm. "Don't go." A tear escaped her eye. "She won't be any help to me anyway."
    Isabel looked around her bedroom, wondering where the culprit was this time. Who was doing this to her, and would she ever be safe? She offered Paige her hand. "We can go for help together."
    After coughing again, Paige propelled forward and vomited on the rug. "I ck etter," Paige sighed, a note of surprise in her voice. She leaned back and took a deep breath. "What was in that tea?"
    "Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as I know," she replied, hating to face the reality that Paige would soon discover.
    "What do you mean, as far as you know?"
    " I didn't put anything unusual in it, but . . ." She nibbled on her bottom lip.
    Paige stood up, her energy apparently regained. She approached the small stove. "I want to see."
    "I don't think you'll find anything."
    She looked through the tea first, then into the pitcher of water the maid had left. Then she spied the tin where Isabel kept the mint. "What's this?"
    "Mint leaves."
    Paige dropped the tin, sending it rattling across the floor. "You put mint in my tea?"
    "Yes, I put mint in our tea. It gives it a nice flavor."
    "I'm allergic to it!"
    Isabel stumbled forward. "What?"
    "I can't have mint. It makes me . . . well, you've already seen what it makes me do." Paige stormed to the door. "You poisoned me."
    "Don't be ridiculous, Paige. I didn't poison you. How would I know that you're allergic to mint?"
    "My mother probably told you. Or perhaps the cook. Maybe you paid one of them to tell you. No one in this house gives a damn about me!"
    Isabel yanked the bell pull for the maid. "You're behaving foolishly, Paige. I would gain nothing by trying to hurt you."
    "Of course you would."
    "Like what?"
    Paige stared down at her feet. "Your plans are much too devious for me to figure out." She pulled open the door, surprising the maid.
    Dolly took a gingerly step into the room. "Is everything all right, Miss Paige?"
    "Everything is fine now ," she bit out, tossing Isabel an icy look.
    Isabel gestured to the rug. "We've had a little accident."
    The maid grimaced. "I'll get that cleaned up right away."
    Paige nodded. "Good. But be careful around Miss Balfour. I simply don't know what the crazy woman is capable of." With that, she disappeared.
    Unable to meet the maid's eyes, Isabel moved away from the mess. Her relationship with Paige was in shambles, but she couldn't help but feel relieved. It had merely been an allergy, not tea leaves laced with arsenic. The temporary life she'd carved out for herself was still safe.
    They hadn't found her. Yet.
    Mrs. Templeton hurried into the room through the open door, her skirts rustling with each step. "Miss Balfour, as you probably know, I'm hosting a soiree this evening."
    Isabel frowned. "I'll have a tray sent up to my room, as usual. I fully understand the discretion the situation requires."
    The woman looked at her, but really seemed to focus on something behind her. "No, no. Actually, I was hoping you'd consider joining us. Miss Creevy begged off and we mustn't have thirteen for dinner."
    "Oh." Isabel