Page 108 of The Heir
And he’s made use of you ever since.It’s what he does.
“I cannot, I will not, betray his confidence.”
“That’s not what I’m asking,” said Jane.Although it is interesting that, that is what you’re hearing.“What Her Royal Highness wants to know is about Dr. Maton.”
“Maton?” Mr. Rea turned, clearly surprised. “Sir John said he was taking care of the matter.”
Jane fought to keep her voice steady. “Then there’s no harm in the princess knowing what’s behind it, is there? So that she does not mistakenly trust the wrong person in the future?” Inspiration struck. “I’ve heard that Dr. Julius Maton may be in line for a position in the medical household, or perhaps Dr. Gerald Maton.” This was another lie, but surely that did not matter at this point. “If the princess needs to choose between them, she needs to know which one she can trust with her secrets.”
Mr. Rea smirked. “I wouldn’t trust any of Maton’s sons.”
“Really? Why not?”
Jane watched Mr. Rea consider. He’d already slipped. What would he do now? If he decided he needed to keep all the secrets and preserve his loyalty to Father, she was sunk. But if he decided it would be as well to ingratiate himself to the princess, even just a little, she would win.
Which is it?She clenched her hands together.Which way do you choose?
“Well, I tell you frankly, Miss Conroy, their father, William Maton, was an out-and-out scoundrel.”
It seemed to Jane then that the heavens opened and the angels sang. She hoped that Mr. Rea mistook her stunned expression for one of simple surprise.
“But . . . he was a part of the household for so long . . . ,” she murmured.
“And I warned Sir John many times over the years that he was not to be trusted,” Mr. Rea told her. “Not only did he drink and gamble, but he was not above using private information to extort money to pay his debts. I knew all this, and even I was shocked when I heard about his latest, well, his last, scheme.”
“What was the scheme?”
Contempt twisted Mr. Rea’s mouth into a sneer. “You heard, perhaps, that Dr. Maton was writing a . . . memoir, I believe he called it?” Jane nodded. “Well, it seems that he was putting in all the secrets he’d been keeping about his patients and their households. All of them.”
“All?” Now Jane was shocked.Allmeant the duke, the duchess, Princess Sophia, the Duke of Sussex.
The princess.
“All,” repeated Mr. Rea. “That is, unless, they would pay him to keep them out. It seems he was making the rounds of all the affected households and informing his victims as to what it would cost to keep him from publishing their confidences.”
“But . . . he couldn’t possibly publish such a book. It wouldn’t be allowed. Someone would stop him.”
“In an earlier age perhaps,” said Mr. Rea. “But, alas, these are sadly degraded times we live in, and the press”—he waved vaguely toward the window—“may publish very much as it chooses. And scandal sells newspapers, and books.”
“I see.”
Liza had said he drank and talked too much. Gerald Maton had said he talked about his cases more than he should . . .
He’d been there when the Duke of Kent died. He’d taken care of the princess the whole time she was growing. He’d taken care of the duchess. He’d sat in on meetings of the Kensington Board. He’d had years’, decades’ even, worth of secrets he could threaten to publish about any and all of them.
Even about Father, if he chose to.
Dr. Maton had known that Father had been lying—to Parliament, to St. James’s, to anyone who would listen—about the princess’s health and the state of her mind, and that the duchess had been helping him.
What else does he know about the royals? Aboutus?
He had known about Ned, and the duel, of course, but what else?
Jane was suddenly very glad she was sitting down, because her knees were trembling.
Jane picked up her teacup and gulped the contents gracelessly. “Well. That is very helpful. Thank you, Mr. Rea. I will make sure that Her Highness knows how ready you were to help.”
“And your father . . .”
