Noble Scoundrel - Amy Sandas Page 0,49

potential risks, it was one of the many reasons Katherine and Frederick were prohibited from visiting the lab. Not even servants were allowed to enter the space.

Unfortunately, the fire that killed her father had ignited late at night when he was the only one awake. By the time anyone else had been roused from their beds, the fire had spread too far and had become too destructive. It had burned his lab and half of their house to charred rubble.

Katherine had awoken to the sound of distant shouts and the acrid smell of smoke burning her eyes and clogging her throat. She’d quickly roused Frederick and the two of them fled the house into the back garden, where they swallowed their fear and joined a line of servants passing buckets of water toward those doing their best to douse the flames before the entire manor was consumed.

They were only partially successful. Though some of their house remained standing, their home was gone forever once it was confirmed Charles Blackwell had not made it out.

Their father’s collection of journals was typically shelved behind the desk in his personal study next to his bedroom in the opposite wing from his lab. If the missing journals had been in his lab with him, they would be nothing more than dust. Another sad loss to add to the tragic consequences of that night.

Choked by the thick lump of grief and frustration that filled her throat, Katherine paused to take several deep breaths. Spending hours and days reading her father’s words—practically hearing his voice in her head—had made it feel almost as if he were still there. But her memories of that horrible night were still so vivid nearly a year later. Thinking about it now felt like losing him all over again.

Unfortunately, reading through the details of her father’s work had not yet resulted in the clarity she’d hoped for...only more questions. So far, there had been no indication of anything at all that could have triggered their current situation. She was beginning to think the task futile.

Though the volumes of scientific notation were missing, there were still three journals containing her father’s reflections during those last months of his life that she had yet to read. If they revealed nothing to help in their investigation into the motivation of the attacks against Frederick, she hoped that at least she might be assured she’d exhausted the possibility.

With a sigh and a determined roll of her shoulders, she picked up the next book.

After only a few pages, she came across something that sparked a moment of expectancy. It appeared the project Charles was working on wasn’t going particularly well.

From what she understood, her father had been studying the chemical and medicinal properties of a flowering plant newly discovered in the jungles of South America. The associate who requested the study was hoping to develop a potion to assist in calming medical patients during procedures.

The problems began almost right away in that the usual methods of determining a plant’s active elements proved ineffective. Instead, Charles had to use a method that proved to be rather delicate and volatile. Even then, the result was unstable and difficult to replicate. Eventually, however, he was able to isolate the necessary elements in order to create a potion with the hoped-for sedative properties.

The following entries noted some successful testing of the potion at significant dilution. Unfortunately, by adjusting the dilution only slightly, the potion became dangerously incapacitating. Charles documented symptoms such as a sort of temporary paralysis in which the mind was aware, though in a state of subtle confusion, while being incapable of directing physical movement. An even stronger solution caused a sort of dreamlike state of hallucinations that left a person utterly unsure of what was real and what wasn’t. And still, the subject would have no physical control of their body.

Katherine knew her father would have tested the drug on himself and she shuddered to think of him experiencing the side effects he described.

Reasonably so, Charles was wary of how dangerous the drug could be if used inexpertly or with impure intent. He believed the risks far outweighed the benefits. In his very last entry—dated the day before his death—he noted that he was going to destroy his work at the earliest opportunity and officially recommend that further development of the herb be discontinued.

Katherine closed the last journal and set it on top of the stack beside her. Rising to her feet, she rolled her head and