Chapter 42

The gentlemen turned their attention to news of the day, while I worked on my pen and ink for Evans. Thus the time passed pleasurably until Higgins announced that our tea was served, and we all proceeded into the dining room.

“Well, you shall have your chance to know Mr. Lerner better,” said Edward, “because I have invited him and Mr. Carter here to discuss particulars of the young doctor’s employment.”

“Mr. Carter is in town?”

“He sent word this afternoon. This is one of his regular visits to London, I take it.”

Polly conveyed the message that Lucy’s head was still bothering her. “Changing weather, I s’pect. It hits her hard,” she said. So we went on and supped without her. The day had wearied me, and I allowed the men to take the lead by discussing a boxing match to be held in Hungerford. Although organized fisticuffs had been illegal for seven decades, they still drew crowds. When I asked what kept the constables away—since a large gathering might surely be a tip-off that there was some mischief afoot—both men laughed.

“Members of the gentry pay constables to stay clear,” said Mr. Douglas. “And the bouts are held on private land.”

“Peers are willing to bribe the law? But why? Who would want ruffians from all over to congregate on their property?” I wondered. “It seems like they are taking a huge risk.”

“They are, but the reward is worth it,” said Edward.

“Many lords of the realm sponsor the boxers, owning and promoting them just as they might own a racehorse,” explained Mr. Douglas.

“But we’re talking about human beings!” I protested.

“Yes, and men have owned other men for centuries. That’s how the pyramids were built,” Edward reminded me.

It was gone eight when Mr. Lerner and Mr. Carter arrived. Mr. Douglas instructed Higgins to bring the men into the library, since Lucy’s large desk could be used for note taking if necessary. After our visitors had said their hellos, the ever-efficient butler offered to relieve the young doctor of his satchel. Once again, I noticed how the papers threatened to spill out of it. This time, a glance told me the reason why: The latch was broken.

“No, thank you,” said Lerner, holding the leather bag as if it were his most precious possession. “I keep all my important notes in it,” he explained. Although his method did not inspire confidence, Higgins took the man at his word.

“Higgins, can you scare up a bottle of brandy? Perhaps some port for my wife?” asked Edward.

I excused myself long enough to check on Ned and Adèle as they prepared for bed. Ned wanted to cling to me, a new habit of late, but I gently transferred him to Amelia’s welcome arms. Adèle stumbled over a few words as she read a portion from the Bible in English, but I praised her effort anyway and tucked her in. I looked in on Lucy, as well, and found her sound asleep with Rags curled in the crook of her legs.

In the library, Higgins poured brandy for the men, and a small glass of port for me, as Mr. Lerner watched Edward pack the medicinal herb in his pipe.

I thought back to Lady Grainger and her kindness toward the seamstress. There was a lesson there that I could happily absorb. “Mr. Carter and Mr. Lerner? Have you had your tea?”

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Rochester,” said Mr. Carter. “I ate at a pub near the inn where I’m staying.”

But Lerner was slower to answer. “Um, no. No, ma’am. I usually only eat but once a day.”

I did not press him for the reason why. His clothing showed signs of excessive wear. When he crossed his legs, I saw the soles of his boots were worn through. Excusing myself, I went downstairs to the kitchen and asked Cook if she might prepare a tray with a selection of sliced meats, leftover aspic, cheeses, and fresh bread.

Back in the library, Mr. Douglas was querying Mr. Lerner about his method for proving that Lady Ingram’s coffee cup had held poison. His questions were interrupted by a knocking on the door. In short order, Higgins returned with a highly agitated Mr. Waverly.

“So, Lerner, you ran here to hide. Well, I have a bone to pick with you. Tried to pull the wool over my eyes,” he said, yanking at his waistcoat.

Mr. Carter puckered his brow. “This young man did nothing of the sort. I’ve been with him all day, and we are here to keep a standing appointment with Squire Rochester.”

“Mr. Waverly? May I introduce you to my doctor and longtime friend, Mr. Carter?” Edward said. “Carter, this is the man from Bow Street whom we all admire so much.”

My husband’s compliment flummoxed Mr. Waverly, as it is terribly hard to maintain ruffled feathers when one is being praised.

Sadie carried in the tray. I watched Mr. Waverly’s eyes follow the food. So did the parlor maid, who set down the repast and then whispered to me, “I’ll bring more right up.”

“Have a seat, Mr. Waverly, your charges can wait a moment,” said Edward. “Help yourself to the food.”

“Brandy?” asked Mr. Douglas, offering a glass to the man from Bow Street. Mr. Carter passed the decanter to Lucy’s brother.

“I, er . . .” Mr. Waverly seemed flummoxed as he stared at the liquid. At last, he answered, “No, thank you, but I would be grateful for even a thimbleful of that whiskey. The one we had the other night?”

“Of course.” Mr. Douglas rang Higgins and asked that a bottle of the spirits be brought up from the cellar. “Now, you were in the midst of calling Mr. Lerner and Mr. Rochester ‘two of a kind,’ I believe. Care to pick up where you left off?”

At last Mr. Waverly slumped down into a chair. His glasses rested crookedly on his face, and his boots—always polished to a fine shine—were scuffed and dull. “In all of your visits to me, neither of you happened to mention this group that Mr. Lerner’s a member of. Completely slipped your minds, didn’t it? So then Miss Mary Ingram stomps into the magistrate’s office—apparently, she wasn’t satisfied with our response to her last visit, since I didn’t arrest the doctor, so she went on and on rehashing her accusations about Mr. Lerner and his character, saying how he poisoned her mother and I’m caught completely off-balance. My supervisor had a go at me. He cuffed my ears. Well, verbally at least.”

I thought to myself, Of course she’s striking out. Blanche now blames Mary for the loss of their fortune! And without their mother to intercede, Mary is on the receiving end of all of Blanche’s fury!

Edward looked amused. “You mean you didn’t realize Mr. Lerner was a Jew?”

But a quick glance at Mr. Lerner affirmed that he was not laughing. No, he was terrified. The blood was draining slowly from his face. As I watched, he looked over at Mr. Carter, and the older doctor turned pale, too. I thought this a curious reaction, indeed.

“You know very well what I’m talking about, Mr. Rochester. You’ve got my head in a vice, and I’m not happy about it. I trusted you when you vouched for this man’s character. Now Miss Mary has made it clear that she has no compunctions about taking this up with the bishop. None. She’s more than willing to keep talking to anyone who might listen.”

“The bishop?” Mr. Douglas leaned forward in his chair, so that his elbows were on his knees. “Because Rochester is hiring a Jew, she thinks the bishop will interfere? Hasn’t he got better things to do, such as memorize his portion for the coronation?”

Again, I looked quickly at the two doctors. Both wore a sheen of perspiration on their foreheads. Mr. Lerner sat with shoulders stooped and his head bowed, while his older mentor emptied the contents of his glass.

“Tell him, Lerner,” said Mr. Carter.

What on earth was this all about?

“It’s true,” said Lerner. “I don’t know how she found me out, but it’s true. I am a Lunartick.”