Mr. Martin and Mr. Thornbridge rose from their seats.
“You know Mr. David Thornbridge already.” James paused as the men exchanged greetings. “And this gentleman is Mr. Lewis Martin from Bow Street.”
After those gentlemen exchanged greetings, James invited Damon to sit and handed him a glass of brandy.
“Your revelation to me this morning has thrown our original theory regarding the motivation for Christopher’s kidnapping in disarray,” James told Mr. Partridge.
“How so?” Damon asked.
Lewis Martin shifted in his seat and leaned forward. “We assumed this was somehow related to the Earl of Soothcoor dignities, as currently Owen Sedgewick is the Earl’s heir if the Earl never marries and has children. That would make Christopher the Earl after his father, if he is legitimate and that can be proved.”
“He is legitimate. I can vouch for that. I have seen the marriage lines,” Damon said.
“That is good; however, your word could be called into question,” Lewis said.
“I don’t know why. It is not as if I had anything to gain by making that up.”
“I understand,” Lewis said.
Damon scratched the side of his head. “But who’s in line after Owen, if Christopher is declared not legitimate?”
“Charles Sedgewick, Owen’s half-brother.”
“What kind of man is he?”
“A London dandy, always ready for a party, a card game, or running from his creditors,” James said. “But he is a congenial fellow. Never had any hope or expectations for the title that I am aware of, though Owen told everyone he would never have children, as he did not want any child to suffer as he has suffered.”
“But he did marry and had a child,” Damon said.
“The Dowager Countess, his stepmother, does not believe he married. As her two youngest sons are in India now, they have never written anything to her about Owen being married.”
Damon nodded. “They may not know. Owen and I had many long talks when I was in India four years ago. He confided in me about his marriage, showed me the document. He did not want it known, as The East India Company frowned on such marriages.”
“Yes,” James said, “After the Kirkpatrick marriage and his adoption of Indian manners and ways.”
“Precisely,” Damon said. “They would find ways to ‘punish’ a man for taking an Indian spouse. Promotion opportunities disappeared, men were transferred to the least favorable locations—that sort of retribution.”
“I was under the impression that he married his consort because she gave him the medicine that alleviated his pain,” James said.
“That’s partially correct,” Damon said. “Sushmita Dhar had some knowledge of Ayurvedic medicine, particularly knowledge about Kalihari.”
“Kalihari?” Lewis asked, as he jotted the name in his occurrence book.
“Yes, it is a vine that produces a flower that looks like a candle flame. In my research, I’ve seen it described as a Flame Lily. Very intriguing to see. It is also highly poisonous.”
“How can a poisonous plant also be a medicine?” Lewis asked.
“Like foxglove,” David said. “That’s poisonous, but a knowledgeable herbalist can create a medicine for heart ailments with it.”
Lewis nodded. “I’d forgotten about that plant.”
The door to the library opened. Cecilia came in smiling, her eyes dancing. “Come, my dear,” she said to Rani behind her. Rani followed her in. All the gentlemen rose.
Rani wore a beautifully simple, midnight-blue saree, with a thin silver-woven edge, and small, embroidered silver stars spaced across the fabric like stars in the sky. Cecilia was delighted to note the gentlemen’s reactions.
James only raised an eyebrow; however, the other three gentlemen stood straighter.
“Cecilia, this gentleman is Damon Partridge. Damon, allow me to present my wife, Lady Cecilia Branstoke.”
