Nick stayed awake long after his wife fell asleep at his side. He stared long at the ceiling, at nothing in particular, listening to her even breathing and wondering what was going on outside their room. Many hours had already passed since he was cut off from the operation and the only news that he got was a three-worded message telling him that their captive wouldn’t talk. He wondered if it meant that Matthew Hawthorne was denying the accusation despite the glaring evidence against him. It was difficult to accuse a member of the ton, even if he had no title attached to his name. Blood was thick and family ties were strong. He wished his partner had brought him London Daily News instead of the book, then he could have read what was happening outside his room.

Sighing heavily, he turned to his wife. Claire Elizabeth Rochford, he had told her. The name felt right when he said it and for the first time he didn’t see any objection flash on her face. He was being too hard on her thinking that she was a whore while he pretended to be the perfect gentleman. What if what she was saying was true? Nick kissed the top of her head then closed his eyes, avoiding the thoughts that would follow.

The rest of the day was a blur. Nick drifted in and out of consciousness. His dreams mingled with reality in one confusing memory. At one point he felt his wife get up and he thought he groaned in protest, but was not sure that he really did. Then there was a rustling sound inside the bedroom followed by light. And there was sound of a chair being dragged on the floor before he heard Claire’s voice explaining how she would go somewhere with a friend and then she was gone. Until finally somebody had the guts to shake him out of his sleep.

Nick opened his eyes only to see the doctor hovering over him. “Let me guess how you are feeling today, Mr. Rochford,” the doctor beamed at him. “You are feeling terribly weak and you blame it on the blood your body had lost. That is correct, however, it does not take a doctor to know that your body will not recover on its own without proper nutrients fed to it.”

Nick yawned and pushed himself up using his elbows, but the doctor and his assistant was there to help him sit up so the task was infinitely easier. He looked around the room and at the tray at his bedside. There was only him, the doctor and his assistant. “Where’s Claire?” he asked.

“Ah, your wife,” the doctor drawled, retrieving the tray and setting it down on the bed. “Do you require her to feed you your lunch?” Nick only glared at him, but the doctor didn’t seem to take offense. “Your wife and a friend went out earlier this afternoon.”

So it was already past lunch time. He had almost slept the day away again. Then he remembered a dream, or was it real, about Claire telling him that she was going somewhere. Nick nodded, watching the doctor reveal sandwiches for Nick’s lunch. 

“We’ll try solid food,” the doctor explained. “Eat slowly. If you can handle this then maybe we will have you returned to your regular diet. That means no more gruel.”

“That is too bad, I did enjoy my breakfast,” he answered dryly. 

The doctor snorted. “After you’re done eating, we will have the wound cleaned.”

“I understand, thank you.”

The doctor turned to leave. “I will be in your parlor drinking tea with my assistant. We will be back in a few minutes, but do not feel the need to rush your meal. Remember to chew thoroughly and eat slowly.”

Nick nodded, taking a small bite of his sandwich. “And by the way, I had spoken with your half-French cousin,” the doctor scratched his chin and looked up thinking. “His name is Timothy, I believe. He said that he saw your wife with Mrs. Hawthorne headed for Newgate.”

***********

It was not obvious with Matthew Hawthorne’s build that he would be a difficult subject to interrogate. For one, he did not look like he had a strong will, perhaps because of the weak chin and slightly chubby physique. Then again, they had not fed him any meal since he was detained, but he still would not change his statement.

Timothy was inside the interrogation chamber staring at the thinner version of the proud Matthew. They had not yet resulted to physical damage, since this man was a brother of a Baron and there was a chance, though very slim, that he was innocent. The initial plan was to starve him to break his spirits, but the plan didn’t seem to be working and Matthew was staring back at Timothy with dark circles under his eyes. 

“I know nothing of the accusations,” Matthew repeated for the hundredth time that day. “If you would please admit to your mistake and set me free this instant, then perhaps I would find mercy not to have your head for mistreating a brother to a Baron.”

“If you would only use that energy to confess the truth, then we would have been finished and you would have eaten a fairly decent meal.” Of course it might be his last meal, for if proven a traitor, the parliament and the queen would have this man hanged. Tim stood up. One more day, then perhaps he would get clearance to resort to a different method in convincing their captive that it was a good idea to share what he knew.

He was almost to the door when a guard showed up. “Sir, his wife is here to visit him.”

“Tell her no.” He looked over his shoulder at Matthew. “This is part of your punishment, Mr. Hawthorne, for making my work harder than it should be.”

“But sir,” the guard interrupted. “Mrs. Hawthorne is with the Lord Abbott’s daughter and –“

“Claire?”

 “Yes, sir. Miss Claire – I mean Mrs. Rochford – the duke’s daughter. She threatens to involve the duke in the negotiation if we do not let them have a word with Mr. Hawthorne.”

“Let me out first,” Tim instructed. Nick would not like it that his wife was involving herself with these people. They had all hoped that Claire would stay out of their business and that Nick would entertain her to the point where she wouldn’t want to get out of their estate. That was why they were given such a tedious estate anyway. They had hoped that her feminine whims would keep her busy. “Let them in,” he whispered to the guard, leading them from the locked cell of Matthew. “However, wait for me to leave the premises. And whatever any of them gives to the prisoner, be sure to sample it." 

"Mrs. Hawthorne brought sandwiches."

"Then be sure to taste one of her sandwiches. Be the one to choose which one to taste. If anything seems funny, do not let the prisoner have it. Do you understand?”