“You’re making a lot of assumptions without supporting any of them,” Steadford drawled as if he’d lost interest in this conversation several minutes ago.
“I’m getting to that,” Hayes said. The thrill of snaring his prey had brightened his eyes. “For you see, I’ve also managed to get my hands on this.” He waved the piece of paper he held and smiled at Viola.
Her stomach lurched with the knowledge that whatever came next, she was not going to like it. “What is that?” she asked in a voice far braver than she actually felt.
“It’s a record of Mr. Marsh’s arrival in England on May 29, 1799. Accompanying him was his infant daughter, Viola Elisabeth Marsh.” Hayes set the page aside and reached for another. “Discovering Mr. Marsh had lived abroad, my clerks tracked him to Paris, where he was highly respected as a professor at the Sorbonne.”
“He was a skilled physician,” Viola muttered while clutching the armrest beside her.
“And very dependable too, which apparently made his colleagues wonder about his sudden decision to quit his position and leave from one day to the next.”
Viola shook her head. “Your Clerks cannot have discovered this. Paris is far. It’s only three weeks since Tremaine hired you, and by the time you started investigating—”
“He had enough time,” Henry told her. “Getting there and back would have taken no more than four days, plus whatever time was required for the interviews. In truth, a week would have been more than sufficient.”
“One of my clerks made the trip,” Mr. Hayes said, while hope began seeping out of Viola’s body. He reached for the teapot and poured himself a cup. “Would anyone else like some?” When everyone shook their heads, Hayes set the pot aside with a shrug. “Apparently some of these men still work at the Sorbonne.” He sipped his tea. “But most helpful of all was actually one of Mr. Marsh’s former students, who now heads the same anatomy department Mr. Marsh used to teach. Turns out he was very eager to learn as much as he could from Mr. Marsh—so eager he asked Mr. Marsh if he could serve as his assistant when he tended to patients.”
“Oh God,” Viola whispered, so low only Henry would hear her. She knew what was coming now, what Hayes would say, and as much as she wanted to flee the room and pretend this wasn’t happening, she straightened her spine and squared her shoulders.
“We’ll get through this,” Henry breathed in answer to her exclamation.
“Imagine my surprise when I learned that Mr. Marsh had helped a doxy deliver a child and then taken the child home with him after the woman died. The next day he was gone and, well, here we are.”
“What an entertaining tale,” Steadford said. His tone was tight and Viola knew then and there that he’d have some choice words to deal her later because she’d failed to mention this to him. “However, I am not sure what you hope to accomplish with it.”
“She’s the bastard daughter of a whore,” Robert sneered, and Viola felt Henry stiffen. “My father obviously paid her so he could swive her.”
Before she could stop him, Henry was out of his seat and hauling Robert to his feet by his shirtfront. “Apologize this instant, Tremaine.”
“Why should I?” Robert asked with curling lip. “A woman who spreads her legs for the son before taking the father deserves no respect.”
The punch landed against Robert’s cheek so fast and with such force that the tea set rattled. “I’ll bloody well kill you right now,” Henry growled, while Steadford and Hayes both leapt to remove him from Robert’s person.
Robert just laughed and threw back his head. “Oh, I see! You haven’t had her yet, Lowell.” Another punch landed in Robert’s chest. “Best get a bank draft ready. Seems her price is going up by thousands of pounds per tup. Did I mention that with me it was free?”
“Shut up,” Hayes demanded while pulling on Henry’s arm.
Steadford tried to wedge himself between Henry and Robert. “This isn’t helping, Lowell.”
“She was so damn willing too,” Robert added as Steadford and Hayes finally managed to pull the two men apart.
“Be quiet, damn you,” Hayes fairly shouted.
Viola’s blood had long since drained from her body. She was cold inside and increasingly aware that nothing good would come of what happened here today.
He wanted to rip Robert’s head off his shoulders and toss it across the room. Yes, it would be bloody, but at least then the man would cease talking. Even now while Hayes warned him to keep his mouth shut, Robert couldn’t resist an additional jibe. “It’s too late to save her, Lowell. I’m meeting with a couple of journalists later today.”
Henry feared he was seconds away from grabbing his pistol. “I suggest you leave,” he gritted out.
“Agreed,” Hayes said. “We’ve shared everything we know and look forward to resolving this matter as quickly as possible. Good day.” He grabbed Robert by the elbow and steered him out of the room.
“I knew there was something else,” Steadford said. “Wish you would have apprised me of it beforehand, Your Grace.”
“I’m sorry,” Viola said. “I honestly didn’t think it would be discovered or that it would matter.”
Mr. Steadford nodded in understanding. “In future, please be aware that the truth does come out eventually. Especially when there’s a hound on your heels.” He turned to Henry. “I wouldn’t have minded delivering a punch to that arrogant fop myself, but in this case, restraint is advisable. I hope you’ll remember that when we meet him in court.”
“Of course,” Henry muttered. “I apologize for my behavior. I just—”
