1834

The Christmas vacation was completely awful. Daniel was only glad to return to the school, even though he still didn't want to talk to the others. It was actually really awkward coming back; he was after all still sharing rooms with Owen.

"So Daniel, how was your extended vacation?" Owen chattered heartily, while unpacking all that he had brought home with him for the holiday. It wasn't much, since he couldn't be bothered to bring along lot of luggage a distance more than two-hundred miles to Hereford.

"... Fine."

Owen looked at his friend. Daniel didn't even turn his head. He was completely focused on cleaning up and organising all of his stuff – so much that it almost seemed like he was avoiding Owen's gaze on purpose. The boy with the fluffy brown curls offered a tentative smile, "Just … fine?" Daniel merely nodded. This was almost rude, but Owen was never one to pick a fight. His smile disappeared, "Daniel, are you all right?"

His room mate merely hummed. It didn't sound like neither a confirmation nor denial.

Owen bit his lip, his gentle brown eyes becoming even more puppy-like. "Listen Daniel, we all know that it wasn't fair of Everett to sell you out like that. We have talked to him! Believe me, we all feel really bad about what happened, we didn't plan for it to get so out of hand."

Finally the other boy looked at him. He gave Owen a weak smile and said, "It's fine."

He immediately turned away again and continued placing his books on the shelf in his part of the room. Owen's shoulders slouched. "... Just fine."

There were times when the other boys would call on Daniel when they saw him passing through in the hallway, asking if he wanted to go out to town with them, but after a few excuses they finally gave up.

Each time he rejected their offer, Daniel saw Owen glance at him with blank eyes, but he pretended not to notice. He knew that Owen had picked up on his dismissive attitude, though he didn't mention anything. He left him alone, and Daniel was grateful of that. He just didn't feel like talking to any of his so-called friends at the moment.

Even though Owen had apologised on all of their behalves, Daniel couldn't just forget about it. Owen said that they had put Everett in his place, but they were all still associating with him. Daniel didn't want any more trouble, so he felt it was best to just distance himself from all of them.

Now that he didn't spend time with the others any more, he had lots of leisure time to focus on Pride. He spent many hours after homework was finished – and before he had to eat dinner – just currying the lively colt and riding out on the fields outside the town centre. He even used the riding grounds whenever they were available.

Snow was still covering the ground all over England. Pride enjoyed the cold winter air, and Daniel had to grasp tighter on to the reins to keep the young horse from swinging its head too much. The sky was as white as the landscape, and in the distance it was hard to see where it ended and the ground began.

"All right, boy," Daniel said, his breath becoming white air in front of him, "Are you up for some endurance?"

The colt snorted lively, letting his rider know that he could pull off anything, Daniel could throw at him. The young man chuckled and sat up in the stirrups, gently pressing his thighs and calves against the large strong body underneath him.

The sound of Pride's hooves became louder and faster, the click-clacking against the ground soon thundering down the length of the track. The cold air lashed against Daniel's flushed cheeks, but he didn't care. This was the best feeling.

Pride was faster than lightening. Daniel was sure he would be able to beat any racehorse that dared challenge him. The colt never got tired. Even when his body was damping with sweat, he kept going. He seemed almost disappointed when Daniel slowed down again after taking a few laps around the track.

"I'm sorry, buddy, but if you keep going like this, you're going to end up limping," Daniel said and clapped the strong neck. Pride snorted, nodding his head eagerly.

"That's one nice horse you've got there, Wilkinson."

Daniel nearly fell out of the saddle. He turned around with wide, anxious eyes.

Henry stood leaned up against the fence, a devious smile plastered across his face; he obviously enjoyed seeing Daniel this horrified. For a moment, Daniel considered kicking Pride's flanks and running away from Henry, but he couldn't subject Pride to that kind of strain – not now that he had just exercised him strenuously.

Daniel mentally cursed, gripping onto the reins a bit tighter. "What do you want now, Henry?"

"I want to know what happened to my money," Henry said, his face instantly becoming darker, "I told you to come up with something better this time, remember?"

Pride stamped on the ground as he felt his rider become uncomfortable. Daniel held the reins firmly, biting his lip. That was right. Henry wanted more than a sculpture. But he had nothing to offer. "I don't have any money for you."

"Now, that's not true," Henry said, a wry smile tugging at his lips. He eyed Pride with a look, Daniel didn't feel comfortable with at all. "You're sitting on a goldmine."

"I'm not going to sell Pride!" Daniel exclaimed, staring at the blond boy with wide eyes. How outrageous! Was Henry really suggesting such a thing?

Henry gave Daniel one of those fake pitying looks. "That's too bad," he said, "I guess I'll have no choice but to tell your parents about your girlfriend, then... We all know how understanding your father is."

"Stop it, Henry," Daniel mumbled, fisting his hands. He averted his gaze from Henry again and stared down at Pride's reins.

"What's it going to be, Wilkinson?"

Daniel clenched his teeth, thoughts whirling around in his head as if a hurricane was raging. He couldn't let go of neither Pride nor Serena. He had to get the money. Henry left him no choice.

"I'll get you the money," he finally said, "When I get home for the half term in a short while... I'll get them. Just don't tell anyone..."

"That's more like it," Henry said, a smile forming on his face, "Good boy, Wilkinson."

It felt like the term went by too fast. Daniel didn't want to go home again, but at the same time he didn't want to stay at the school with Owen; his big, brown puppy-eyes were too much to handle. Besides, Daniel had promised Henry that he would get him the money, so he had to go home and get it over and done with.

At least there was Hazel to look forward to seeing again. It seemed like she and Pride were Daniel's only sources of joy at the moment, for Serena still wasn't answering him – or maybe she was just outright ignoring him.

But Daniel didn't feel comforted by seeing Hazel again – quite the contrary. As he opened the door to his younger sister's room, he was met with a horrible sight; a ghost of something that slightly resembled Hazel was lying in the bed. Daniel felt even more shocked when the small form sat up and smiled at him. "Hello, Daniel."

"What happened to you, Hazel?" Daniel said, his eyes wide.

She looked worse than ever. She had lost so much weight that there was barely anything left of her. Her eyes were bloodshot with dark circles underneath them, and she was as pale as the snow outside. It had hardly been two months since Christmas. How could she have ended up like this in such a short amount of time?

The fragile girl clapped her bed, "Come sit. Give me a hug." Daniel nearly felt scared to embrace her; what if she would break? But he put his worries aside and sat down on the bed, putting his arms around his sister. "I've missed you…" Hazel said in a soft voice. She sounded so weak and tired.

He looked at her with a grave expression. "I have missed you, too. But … are you all right? You look so … ill!"

Hazel offered a weak smile. Her cheeks were not cute and chubby any more. The cheekbones were protruding grossly on her gentle face, making her look ages older. "Don't worry, Daniel. My disease has broken out a bit, but I'm getting treatment and lots of medicine. It's getting better. I'm feeling really good."

Daniel stared at her. She didn't look good at all. "But, Hazel... Your disease is a lung defect. You shouldn't be looking like …" he wanted to say a corpse, "... this."

"Just believe me for once, Daniel," Hazel sighed heavily, her smile disappearing, "I'm telling you that I'm fine. Everyone is taking care of me. And honestly, I don't feel anything. My body never hurts any more. I don't get any seizures. I barely need my inhaler now. Isn't that wonderful? You should be thrilled!"

Hearing all of this, he honestly did feel a little better. Hazel not being in pain any more was very good news. It was just... She looked like she was already dead. Had she caught another illness? This really couldn't be right.

But Daniel decided to take Hazel's words for it and accepted her explanation. He nodded, "Of course, I am thrilled. I'm glad you're feeling better, Hazel." The siblings embraced each other.

Daniel was not going back into his parents' bedroom. He couldn't risk Henrietta catching him again; there was no good excuse for him prowling around in there. Besides, he had searched the room thoroughly before Henrietta had walked in, and he was certain that the money was not stored in there.

He didn't like his new idea better, though. It was just as dangerous as breaking into the bedroom, if not more, but there was no other place that he could think of, that Henrietta would store her fortune. He knew for a fact that she hadn't put it in a bank account – which was very fortunate for Daniel due to his current predicament – so it had to be in the house somewhere.

The key was not easy to get one's hands on. Henrietta usually kept it on her at all times, even when she was sleeping. She had it in a pocket in her dress. The only time, Daniel could think of snatching it, would be while she was bathing – and even that was risky, for what would happen when she discovered that it was gone?

Everything seemed hopeless, until he discovered the copy. Henrietta apparently had two keys, just in case. The copy was kept in a locked cabinet – in the bedroom, of course. Why is she so secretive? Daniel thought, feeling very irritated. He understood that one should be careful with were you keep your documents and wealth, but this was a bit over the top!

So Daniel was forced to go into the bedroom anyway. Fortunately, he could pretend that he was going to train with Pride so that he didn't have to accompany the family while they went out to call on their friends in the morning. Hazel also stayed at home, since she wasn't feeling well. She drank the red liquid the servants had said was her medicine, and fell sound asleep.

He didn't have a lot of difficulties opening the locked cabinet. No one barged in while he took the key. It was almost too easy, but Daniel was just relieved that it was over and done with. Now came the hard part; sneaking into Henrietta's private office and getting the money.

He couldn't do it the very same day. As he came walking down the hallway from Henrietta and John's bedroom, Charles called out to him from down the stairs in the main hall and said that Pride was ready for his training. Daniel had to attend to his horse if he didn't want to raise any suspicions, so he had to postpone his plan for the time being.

Only a few days later, a new opportunity arose. Everything was quiet around the mansion; John had gone to the studio without Daniel this time. He had only agreed to it after Henrietta had said that Daniel should stay home to do his homework, though. Now it was noon, and Daniel had no idea where the woman had gone. Not that he cared – he wasn't going to interfere with her business like she did his – but he wanted to make sure that she wasn't around to catch him when he broke into her office.

"Are you looking for something, young Mr. Wilkinson?" Miss Turner said. She was not very old, though wrinkles had started to settle in her face and hands. The frizzy red hair was gathered in a messy bun underneath her cap.

Daniel liked her; she always made delicious food, and was very kind. He smiled at the short woman, "Eh... No. Thank you, Miss Turner." She sent him a warm smile in return and continued dusting off the furniture. Daniel looked around the living room one last time, before deciding with himself that Henrietta must've been out. He couldn't find her anywhere.

He went back up the stairs and down the corridor to his parents' room – but went directly past the master bedroom and headed for the door at the far end of the hallway. He kept looking behind him to make sure that no one was watching him. He picked the key from his pocket, his eyes still scanning the hallway while he unlocked the door. Not until he was inside the office did he finally relax and breathe out in relief. He made sure to lock the door behind him.

The office was light and tidy and just as posh as the rest of the house. A baroque desk stood centred in front of the large window across from the door. The carpet on the floor was soft with intricate romantic patterns. Along the walls hung portraits and paintings by fancy painters that he had never heard about. Organised bookcases and cabinets were the only other furniture in the room other than the desk and the chair by it.

Daniel had no idea why the mistress of the house needed an office; not even John was allowed in here. He supposed she kept important letters, invoices and documents from landlords, clergymen, politicians and other important people. And of course, the family's wealth.

He started searching the office for the money. He figured that they would be in some kind of safe. After a while of rummaging behind books and folders, he realised that if the money was locked up as he assumed, he would need yet another key.

Daniel scowled and went for the desk. If there was another key in the office, it would probably be kept in one of the main desk drawers. But of course, the drawers were locked as well. That woman really kept her fortune under lock and key. What was she so scared of? It wasn't like she couldn't do without a few coppers.

But Daniel was prepared for this. He had brought one of Hazel's hairpins. He didn't know if the locks on the drawers would be easy to pick, but surely they couldn't be any more difficult than the lock on a jewellery box.

As he started picking one of the drawers, he accidentally put a bit too much pressure on the leaf underneath the table top, and it gave way. Daniel immediately stopped what he was doing, feeling slightly panicked. Had he just broken the desk?

But it didn't seem like it. Upon further investigation, it actually looked like the desk was supposed to do this; the leaf revealed a hidden compartment underneath the table top. He frowned and began looking through the documents hidden in the cache. It contained nothing of interest. After skimming some of the documents, Daniel started to wonder why Henrietta would keep these papers hidden – even lock them up. That was until one of the documents caught his attention.

It looked like some kind of receipt. The strange thing about it was what the receipt was for. Daniel's eyes widened. Potassium cyanide, he thought, What in the world would she need potassium cyanide for? He had been attentive enough in chemistry class to know how dangerous that substance was. It could kill a full grown man in less than ten minutes. Why would Henrietta have a receipt for such a lethal chemical?

Seeing this, Daniel got more curious and began digging through more documents. There were clippings about scientific discoveries concerning other substances resembling cyanide, as well as press cuttings about deaths all over England – both peaceful ones, but also murders. Men that had been poisoned.

Daniel's stomach squirmed. He felt more and more anxious.

There were maps crossing out places in London, Oxford, Ramsgate, Swansea, Plymouth, Northampton, the Warehouse City, Liverpool... He had no idea what they marked, but he had a really bad feeling.

Research papers, articles, notes, all concerning the same thing. Advertisements on drugs and black markets. Studies on anatomy. Torn papers from books on medical issues. It continued on and on. Daniel suddenly began to understand why all these papers were locked up; they were illegal.

At last he found an old letter. He began reading.

Oct 29th, 1829
Good day, future widow of the Evans Estate,

Here you have your order. It has all been taken care of carefully and professionally, so no one will suspect. The dose should be enough to have your husband draw his last breath.

Be careful not to give him the wrong glass, madam, as we wouldn't want the wrong Evans to drop dead. We do so very much appreciate the humble price you have paid, and we would love it to do business with you again another time.

Best regards,
Ronald Edeson
Mr. Edeson's Miracle Liquids and Substances – for every grey day

The realisation of what all this meant sent violent waves of ice through his veins and down his spine. His palms became sweaty. He started fidgeting with the clippings, papers and documents, clumsily putting it all back in the compartment and locking it up.

It was true. The rumours, he had heard all those years ago in town. They were all true. Henrietta had poisoned her own husband.

Daniel felt sick. He feared that if he stayed in the room any longer, he would suffocate. He didn't care about the money any more. He just wanted to get out of there.

Shaking, he got up on his feet, quickly making sure that everything was as before he had been in there, then making his way towards the door. He slipped out of the room in a less than elegant manner, quickly heading down the hallway. His thoughts were a mess. He couldn't think straight or process anything. He just knew that he had to get away from the house right now. Far away.

As he turned the corner to go down the stairs to the main hall, he suddenly bumped into someone.

"Is everything all right, Daniel?"

Daniel's breath caught in his throat. There she was. That ghastly woman. He only remembered one other time he had been this frightened before, and that was many, many years ago.

Henrietta looked at her stepson with one raised eyebrow. "You look awfully pale."

He swallowed hard, staring at her with wide eyes. "I'm … quite all right," he nodded, "P-please, excuse me..."

The young man went round her and down the stairs, completely avoiding her gaze. Henrietta turned around and watched him as he quickly fumbled with getting his coat and boots on, then went out the door.