Page 69 of The Heir
Victoria must have looked a bit green around the gills, because Dr. Gerald instantly apologized. “I’m sorry. I should not say such things in front of . . . in front of any patient.”
“There is no need for apology. After all, I am the one who asked the question.”
Dr. Gerald spread his hands. “But even if my father was poisoned, what could I do? There is no definite way to differentiate between a stomach illness and poison. There’s a man named Marsh who is said to be working on a way to test for the presence of arsenic in a solution, but he has published no results yet . . .” He let his hands fall into his lap. “And my family, they would never agree to a coroner’s inquest. Especially now.” He lifted his gaze to her. “What should I do?”
Years later Victoria would remember this moment. This was the first time someone had openly appealed to her for help because she was Her Royal Highness, Princess Alexandrina Victoria, heir to the throne. Even though Dr. Gerald could plainly see she was a young girl, he believed there must be something she could do. Because she was the princess.Hisprincess. Because she would be his queen.
She felt elated. She felt terrified. She could not fail to rise to this occasion, but she did not know what to do.
All at once she found herself thinking a thing that would never have occurred to her under normal circumstances.
What would Mama do?
Victoria raised her chin. “You may leave the matter with me. I will make the necessary inquiries and determine what can be done.”
For a minute, she thought he’d laugh at her. That was also something Mother would do.
But he did not. If anything, he seemed truly relieved. “Thank you . . . miss. I—” He wiped his face again and his hands. “Well, thank you.”
“I will send word as soon as I am able,” she said. This seemed a safe promise.
“If . . . if I should learn anything that might be relevant, how may I send word?”
Victoria found herself at a loss. It was very unlikely she could arrange to come here again. It was as much by luck as by planning that she had been able to come at all. And Dr. Gerald could not write to her. Even if his letter made it through the layers of palace clerks and secretaries to get to her, Mama opened all her correspondence first. Mama and Sir John.
Susan coughed, startling them both.
“If I may,” she said. “Perhaps a letter taken to the post office, to be left until called for?”
“Addressed to V. Kent,” said Victoria. “Yes. That will answer very well.” At least it sounded as if it would. “Thank you for your time and your confidence.” She stood, which caused him also to stand.
“Miss,” he said. “What is happening here? What did my father do?”
“I am trying to find it out.” She paused. “Your mother, I think, mentioned your father was planning on writing a memoir?”
“He has always said he would.”
“But had he begun? Have you seen the manuscript?”
“I believe that he had started, but no, I never saw it.” He tapped the desk a moment, considering. “He kept a journal, however, and notes on his prominent cases and so forth.”
“Do you think you might be able to look at his papers? To see if there are hints of new trouble or anything of the kind?”
“I should think so. Julius will have kept all that. I can offer to help go through them.”
“Excellent. You can then write and tell me what you find. Thank you.” She extended her hand, and he, a little startled, took her fingertips and bowed carefully over them.
* * *
“That was an excellent suggestion, Susan,” said Victoria as soon as the two of them once again settled in the carriage. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” Contradictory emotions warred on Susan’s face. She looked pleased at the compliment but also angry at the fact of being pleased. Victoria had seen this before. There were people who were very determined not to be persuaded by rank and courtesy.
“I’m sure I must appear very foolish not to know anything about . . . post offices,” she said.
“Not at all, ma’am. The toffs, that is, the quality, I mean—”
“We sad creatures who mope about above stairs?”
