Page 24 of A Very Roguish Boxing Day
“That’s quite enough, Dr.Hastings!”Mrs.Whitby snapped.
Harry glared at her.“No one asked you.”
“I agree with Mrs.Whitby,” Dr.Pickering said firmly.“It should come as no surprise that a man would show increased care with his wife, particularly on her wedding night.”
Harry laughed.“It’s plain that you don’t know Maurice.”He turned toward Gwen.“You said you bled.”
“I did,” she confirmed.“Only a little, but I did.”
His expression was triumphant.“Then why were the sheets snow-white, with no trace of blood?”
Gwen drew herself up.“Once he finished, he fetched a damp cloth from the washstand.He used that to clean me up, and pressed it to my, um…”
“Quim?”Harry asked, seeming to take pleasure in saying the rude word to Gwendolyn’s face.
“Just so,” Gwen said firmly.“I would assume that is why the sheets were not soiled.”
“Sounds unlikely to me.”Harry slapped his hands on his thighs and pushed to his feet.“But if you did, in fact, bleed, there should still be signs of it.Let’s see, shall we?”
“Dr.Hastings,” Dr.Pickering snapped, “your expectation is extraordinary.Extraordinary, unnecessary, and inappropriate.”
Mrs.Whitby had also risen from her seat.“How can you disbelieve her?Her story is entirely consistent.How would she know such things had the marriage not been consummated?”
Harry scowled.“One of the maids probably told her what to say.”
“I highly doubt it,” Dr.Pickering said scornfully.“Mrs.Simpkins’ story has a level of detail that does not suggest that she came by her information secondhand.Ask her more questions if you are yet to be convinced.Surely, there must be some question whose answer would convince you.”
Harry froze, and then a delighted, vindictive smile spread across his face.“What an excellent suggestion, Doctor.It happens that there is a question I would like to ask.”He smirked at Gwen, his expression full of triumph.“If you’re so familiar with it, you should be able to describe Maurice’s cock.”
Oh, drat!She could have described Tom’s member well enough, but what did she know of Maurice’s?Gwen swallowed down the panic rising in her chest as she saw her dreams fading like a mirage.
Although…
The memory came to her in a flash.Maurice opening the falls of his trousers right in front of her and relieving himself in the chamber pot.
“Do you mean his mole?”Gwen blurted.
Harry’s face fell, and she knew she had remembered correctly.
“He has a mole,” Gwen insisted.“A large one.Not at the tip of his, er… organ.But closer to the tip than to the, ah… root.”She thought for a moment.“It’s on the right side.His right, that is.”
“How do you know this?”Harry demanded.
Mrs.Whitby laughed incredulously.“How do you think?”
Dr.Pickering was writing furiously.“An autopsy is to be performed on Mr.Simpkins this afternoon.I will make sure to be present for it, so I can confirm Mrs.Simpkins’ description.”He beckoned for Gwen to come forward, then spun his notebook around to face her.“I apologize for the indelicate nature of this request, but could you sketch out an illustration of this distinctive feature?”
Gwen’s cheeks were aflame, but she would much rather make an embarrassing sketch than bare herself before Harry Hastings.“I am not much of an artist,” she warned.But, as the subject matter was not overly complex, she was able to make a reasonably accurate sketch in the course of a minute.
Peering over her shoulder, Harry cursed, then stormed from the room.
Dr.Pickering gathered his supplies, and then he, Gwendolyn, and Mrs.Whitby followed Harry from the room.Out in the corridor, she found Harry and Joseph conversing in harsh whispers.Her brother’s face was purple in his rage, and he cast her a poisonous glare as she closed the door behind her.
Another man was standing in the hall, one she did not recognize.He looked to be in his forties, with a touch of grey at his temples.He bowed over Gwendolyn’s hand and presented her with his card.She saw that he was a barrister—herbarrister, she assumed.“Nathaniel Finnimore, at your service, Mrs.Simpkins.”
Gwen curtseyed, trying to look as if the barrister’s presence was expected.“Thank you for accepting my case on such short notice, Mr.Finnimore.”
“Of course.”
