He attacked.
24
No gods assail us; we are mortals fighting with mortals.
—VIRGIL
Lyon gazed around the breakfast table, his expression bland. The last person to arrive was Patricia, yawning as innocently as a child.
"I'm glad you're back, Lyon," Lucien said. "Your visit was quite a short one, my boy."
"I saw what I needed to see," Lyon said, then added with a slight smile. "And I missed my wife."
He paused a moment, staring at every face at the table. He saw Dido standing by the veranda door. He said clearly, "When I returned last evening, Diana was asleep. It appears that's all she had been doing since dinner evening before last. It is also quite clear to me that she had been drugged."
"Good God! Surely ---" Lucien broke off, staring at his daughter. "Are you all right, my dear?"
"Yes, Papa. Now I am."
There were other exclamations. Lyon waited until everyone had made a response, then continued. "It was probably the sweet-potato pone that was drugged. Diana told me it was a dish prepared especially for you, sir. You gave the dish to Diana. She was the only one who ate it."
"Impossible!"
"Utterly ridiculous!"
Lyon heard the women --- odd how they sounded nearly alike, almost as ifHe shook his head, but his eyes, for the moment, were on Dido. The old woman started, and he would have sworn that her black face paled. She took a step forward, then retreated again. He would speak to her after breakfast.
Lyon continued thoughtfully, "Either it was a very long-lasting drug, or she was fed more of it at breakfast yesterday, or perhaps at lunch. I have little knowledge of drags used here in the West Indies. Perhaps Daniel can tell us."
Daniel was staring at Diana, shaking his head slowly from side to side.
"Daniel?"
"Huh? Oh, yes, the drug. There are several that have long-lasting effects. Yes, several. Are you all right, Diana?"
She looked at his concerned face, felt his slow, gentle voice wash over her. "Do not worry, Daniel. I survived."
Deborah said sharply, "It is also possible that she had a fever. Indeed, it is more likely than drugs, for heaven's sake. Daniel will also tell you that there are many such illnesses that last a day or so."
"That is true," said Daniel. "There is one in particular that makes one very lethargic for twenty-four hours or so."
Lyon wanted desperately to grasp at that straw. "She had no fever last night when I returned."
"There is no fever," Daniel said. "Just the extreme weariness and a ferocious headache."
"I see," said Lucien. He couldn't help himself. His eyes went to his wife's, and he searched her face. There was something in her eyes, something she didn't want him to see, to know about. He frowned and sipped at his coffee.
"You know," he said, looking from his son-in-law around the table, "I have a violent dislike of mysteries. Dido, I would like to speak to you after breakfast. In my study."
"Yes, massa."
"I should like to be present, sir," said Lyon.
Lucien nodded, then said, "You returned very quickly, Lyon. Did Bemis show you everything?"
"I showed him all he wished to see," said Edward Bemis. He sounded vaguely put out. "His lordship toured the plantation house, the slave compound, but scarcely looked at the fields. He spoke to the overseer and several of the slaves."
"Your telling is accurate," said Lyon, a bit of irony in his voice. "So far as it goes," he added mildly.