Chapter 14 - The Bitter Tea
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The chaos in the house reached a fever pitch by noon. Guests were arriving, ushered toward the massive outdoor pavilion. Photographers snapped pictures of the estate, while a string orchestra tuned their instruments on the lawn.
In the east wing, away from the madness, Erin was delivering a tray of chamomile tea to Eleanor Whitmore’s room. Her heart was incredibly light, despite the tension in the house. Her mother was safe. The debt was gone.
As she pushed the heavy oak door open, Erin stopped dead in her tracks.
Caroline was standing over Eleanor’s bed. The bride was already wearing her spectacular, custom Parisian wedding gown, the intricate lace train spilling across the hardwood floor.
Caroline held a small, glass vial in her hand, tipping a few drops of clear liquid into the cup of tea resting on Eleanor’s bedside table.
Eleanor was asleep, breathing heavily, completely vulnerable.
“What are you doing?!” Erin gasped, dropping her tray. The silver crashed violently against the floor, shattering the china cups.
Caroline jumped, spinning around, her face twisting into an ugly mask of sheer panic and rage. She quickly shoved the empty vial deep into the pocket hidden within the folds of her massive gown.
“You little rat,” Caroline hissed, stepping away from the bed. “Are you spying on me?”
“You put something in her tea,” Erin said, her voice shaking as she stepped forward, placing herself between the bride and the sleeping woman. “What did you give her?”
“It’s just a mild sedative, you idiot,” Caroline snarled, her voice venomous. “The old bat embarrassed me yesterday with her little outburst about the spilled tea. I cannot risk her having another ‘lucid’ moment during the ceremony and causing a scene. She just needs to sleep through the wedding.”
“You are drugging an incredibly sick woman,” Erin whispered, horrified by the casual cruelty. “That could interact with her heart medication. You could kill her!”
Erin reached for the tainted teacup on the nightstand, intending to throw it away.
Caroline lunged forward, her hands clawing at Erin’s arm. “Don't you dare touch that! She is going to drink it, and you are going to keep your mouth shut, or I swear to God—”
“Or you’ll do what?” Erin challenged, ripping her arm free, staring down the furious bride. “You have no power over me anymore, Caroline. Your uncle is off the board. My mother’s bill is paid. You have nothing.”
May you like
Caroline’s eyes widened in shock, realization dawning on her that her ultimate leverage had been destroyed. The panic morphed into pure, unadulterated, desperate rage.
She raised her hand high, and with all the force she could muster, she swung.
