The Vital Principle Read Online Free PDF

likely murdered. She already appeared to have suffered more grief than she could bear. Her tired eyes and gray face made him fear any further pain would bring about a complete collapse.
    How much could one woman bear?
    “Lady Crowley.” He caught Miss Barnard’s eye and to his relief, felt an immediate flicker of understanding. She put an arm around the older lady’s shoulders, bracing her for the shock. “Lady Crowley, I’m sorry,” he said. “Your son is dead.”
    “Dead?” Lady Crowley repeated, her voice quavering. She glanced down as if she could not comprehend what she saw. “How can he be dead? You must be mistaken.”
    Miss Barnard hugged the dowager and murmured, “I’m sorry, so terribly sorry.”
    A sob broke from Lady Crowley’s throat. Miss Barnard held her more tightly, speaking softly, trying to comfort her.
    “Dead!” Miss Spencer leapt out of her chair. She whirled to stare into the gloomy recesses of the room, her hands covering her mouth. When Mr. Denham touched her arm, she shrieked. “A ghost! It must be! That thing I felt hovering behind me when the candle blew out. It touched me—I felt its cold fingers! It passed by me on its way to kill Lord Crowley! It will kill us all! We must leave, now! Now! ”
    “Miss Spencer, please! Calm down.” Mr. Denham tried to capture one of her hands. But he ruined his attempt to reassure her by casting wild glances around the room, his eyes searching the shadows. “A spirit would not have harmed him. We have nothing to fear from the spirit realm.”
    The mention of spirits caused her to screech again before she collapsed into her chair, hands over her face, sobbing with terror. Jekyll’s pale daughter, Mrs. Marley, echoed her scream and Miss Howard gripped her injured foot with white-knuckled hands, her eyes wide with fear. The older ladies gasped and clutched the sleeves of the closest men, casting terrified looks over their shoulders.
    “How?” Lady Howard asked, her question ending with a shriek when her daughter grabbed her hand. “Oh! Oh, my dear Fanny. You startled me! Oh—the room is haunted ! It must be!”
    “He can’t be dead.” The dowager struggled to push Miss Barnard away. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a joke—Henry, get up at once ! At once , do you hear me?”
    “I’m sorry,” Knighton replied. Ignoring the infectious hysteria, he examined the snifter again although it told him nothing he hadn’t already ascertained.
    Mr. Jekyll turned to his wife, hand outstretched, his face lined with sadness. But she pushed past him to enfold her daughter with trembling arms. Slowly, the room grew quieter as grief muffled the fears of those clustered around the table.
    “Mama—” Mrs. Marley gasped sharply, air wheezing in her throat. She coughed and struggled for air. Her mother pushed a snifter of brandy into her daughter’s hand and forced her to take a swallow.
    Lord Crowley had died after drinking brandy! Was the poison in the bottle of brandy? Knighton raised a hand to stop her but the gesture came too late.
    He watched tensely, fearing Mrs. Marley would also fall victim to the poison, but she drank several mouthfuls without consequence. Finally, Knighton expelled a long breath in relief. Mr. Jekyll had been unaffected by his brandy. And Mrs. Marley, despite her wrinkled nose from the sharp taste, didn’t collapse.
    The brandy in Jekyll’s snifter had not been poisoned, nor the bottle they poured it from.
    When Mrs. Jekyll glanced across the table and spied the linen towel the maid used to mop up the wine, she frowned. “Get that filthy rag away from my daughter. The smell of it is making her ill!”
    The maid threw the stained tea towel to the butler who solemnly folded it over his arm and left the room.
    “Was it his heart?” Mr. Jekyll placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. She glanced up at him, still hacking and sputtering as she tried to cover her mouth with her handkerchief. Her mother forced her to drink