Page 93 of The Truth About Dukes
Another lawyer rebuked, and that pleased the galleryandthe jury.
Sir Leviticus established that the Rothhaven dukedom under the present titleholder prospered handsomely enough to make a charitable gift of even a large, remote estate. He also got Cranmouth to admit that Robert’s father had appeared quite sound of mind in all regards, sound enough to vote his seat, oversee multiple estates, and supervise the upbringing of his children. The old duke had not, alas, been as proficient at managing the family’s wealth. Cranmouth was convincingly reluctant to part with that confession.
Dr. Warner, looking handsome, calm, and helpful, testified next. Seizures, in hisexpertopinion, were difficult to treat, and if they appeared in childhood, they seldom admitted of a cure. Repeated seizures often resulted in diminished capacity over time. Confusion, hostility, and loss of the faculty of speech, such as Cranmouth observed in His Grace, were sadly common in persons cursed with epilepsy.
All very tragic.
Sir Leviticus forced Warner to admit that he’d treated a grand total of five cases of epilepsy in his two decades of practice, and further, that seizures could result from many causes other than the falling sickness. Warner was therefore not in a position to diagnose His Grace with the falling sickness, much less do so by innuendo.
The gallery liked seeing the doctor put in his place as well, more’s the pity.
Weatherby rallied, though, asking Warner if he was professionally familiar with the late Dr. Obediah Soames. As it happened, Warner had read the many august treatises on mental derangement Soames had penned, and had heard Soames’s private madhouse described as a model of compassionate care for the insane. Soames’s death had been a great loss to the medical community.
A great loss, indeed.
What would Rothhaven and Wentworth relations think if they learned that Soames’s name had been passed along to Neville by no less personage than Lord Stephen Wentworth, and that his lordship’s motivation had been to prevent a mésalliance between the Wentworths and not merely a family afflicted with madness, but the madman himself?
“And why did you purchase Dr. Soames’s establishment?” Weatherby asked.
None of your damned business.Robert couldn’t say that, but ye gods, he wanted to. What prevented him was the sight of Constance in the gallery, pale, composed, and doubtless ready to do Weatherby a grievous injury at the slightest provocation.
The truly relevant questions—What day is it? What is your name? Who sits upon the throne of the United Kingdom? What is the sum of 23 plus 42 plus 4?—had been dispensed within the first two minutes of Robert’s testimony.
“Not all of my memories from the years in Soames’s care were bad,” Robert said. “I formed fast friendships with the other residents, and I met my wife there.”
Weatherby sent a sly smile toward the jury. “Are you married, then, Your Grace?”
“As it happens, I am.”
The jury looked uncertain, while Weatherby appeared to have found a gold sovereign among his legal notes.
“Has the queen of the fairies accepted your proposal? Perhaps you married a madwoman while you were still a minor? Do favor us with the details, Your Grace.”
Sir Leviticus rose and aimed a disdainful look at Weatherby. “I ask the commission to instruct Mr. Weatherby regarding his duty of civility toward the witness. Mocking one alleged to be disabled should be beneath the dignity of any decent person, and mocking a witness worse yet.”
“Weatherby,” Drossman growled, “stop baiting the witness. The noon hour approaches.”
Weatherby merely smiled. “To whom are you married, Your Grace?”
“To the former Lady Constance Wentworth, who is present in the gallery. We met while I resided with Dr. Soames. Her ladyship briefly joined the domestic staff years ago. We renewed our acquaintance as our siblings courted, and her ladyship did me the great honor of accepting my proposal.”
Her ladyship wasn’t looking very honored at present, or rather,Her Gracewasn’t. She looked ready to murder Solomon Weatherby.
“How is it you come to be married when we’ve heard of no ceremony, Your Grace? You must admit an invisible wedding is hard to credit.”
Weatherby’s tediousness would drive Robert daft in truth. “Dr. Pietr Sorenson married us by special license when we had occasion to request a letter of introduction from him. We did not want to detract from the attention due our siblings, who were also planning to wed and who have now done so.”
Robert and Constance had also needed to travel to Fendle Bridge as a married couple, though the outing had made a poor wedding journey.
The gallery was abuzz, pointing at Constance, who bore that rudeness with enviable serenity.
“Well, congratulations on your nuptials, Your Grace.” Weatherby sounded jovial, but his gaze had narrowed, “and on distracting the commission from my original question: Why buy, thengive away, a prosperous property where you had been hospitalized forhalf your life?”
“Dr. Soames never called it a hospital, did he?” Robert replied. “Never had any of his guests certified as insane or incompetent, never had to comply with the legal requirement to have an independent physician evaluate the people forced to bide in his house. I gather he was solving embarrassing problems for well-to-do families, and my epilepsy—my very existence—was exactly such a problem for my father. What would you call Soames’s establishment?”
Sir Leviticus had said that Weatherby polished his glasses when he needed time to think, and he was polishing his spectacles to a high shine now.
“I will ask the questions, Your Grace, and ancient history isn’t what concerns me or the jury. Why buy a madhouse, for surely we can agree Soames was running a madhouse.”
