“How do you know this?” Michaels asked.
Tiffany just glared at him, then set off across the roof to a dormer that jutted out over the back garden.
Chapter 52
“Hello, Captain,” Percival said. “What brings you here?”
“Lord Ronald sent a runner to the Watch house, sayin’ that you were a danger to yerself, My Lord.”
“Did he, indeed?”
“Yes,” added the physician who had entered with the captain. “I found your behavior quite strange when I tended your wounds after your injury. I was not surprised to learn that you were responding erratically.”
“Do tell,” Percival responded. “I found your medical advice to be specious and sought an alternative man of medicine. His prescriptions could not have been more different.”
“I find it hard to believe that any physician would have prescribed some other course,” the physician refuted. “Nay, I am of the opinion that the blow to your head has caused you to lose your wits.”
“Dr. Hardwick did not seem to be of similar opinion. In fact, he found your prescriptions to be quite out of fashion.”
“Dr. Hardwick! That old woman! He’s more of an herb man than a real doctor, why, I bet he had you drinking concoctions of willow bark and mint.”
“Point of fact, he did. They were most efficacious and I was soon feeling much better under his care.”
“Then it will be no surprise to the world when you take a turn for the worse shortly. For no such dosing with teas and broths could possibly lead to better health.”
“Then perhaps I should credit my current state of recovery to a sound regimen of healthy food and good exercise. I do not require your ministrations, Doctor—?” Percival let his statement end with a rising inflection, suggesting the fellow should give his name.
“This is Dr. Abslom, the physician who initially attended you,” Lord Ronald interjected. “The one to whom you should have listened to in the first place.”
“Uncle, I am not such a mooncalf as to believe that bleeding and doses of laudanum produce good health. While I did not serve with those who pushed back against Napoleon, I have seen enough of the men who came back from France, and I have volunteered to assist those who are convalescing. Dr. Hardwick has an excellent record for bringing his patients back to the living after near death.”
Lucas burst into the room. “My Lord!” he cried. “Some ‘un hit Mr. McClellan with a cosh, then shot ‘im. He’s got a pistol ball in ‘is shoulder and needs help, bad!”
“Slow down, Lucas, catch your breath and look around.”
Lucas did as he was bid, although he seemed ready to protest. Then he looked around the room. “Oh! Oh, dear,” he said. “I thought reinforcements had arrived.”
“So they have, young man,” Lord Ronald said. “We have brought the help that Lord Northbury needs.”
“Yes, Lord Ronald. If you say so.” Lucas cast a dubious glance at the two young gentlemen who were still sprawled across the card table.
“I do, indeed, say so!” Lord Ronald affirmed. “I have come to put a stop to the lax way in which this household has been run, and to see to my nephew’s health.”
“Stay a little while, Lucas,” Percival said. “I might have need of you. But on no account should you argue with Lord Ronald.”
Lucas stared at his employer for a moment. “Very good, My Lord,” he said. “I will stand at the ready.” So saying, he moved behind Kenault’s chair, keeping a wary eye on the captain of the Watch and on Dr. Abslom.
“I believe,” Percival said, “That we should sit down and discuss this like reasonable people. Lucas, will you be so good as to ring for tea?”
“Of course, My Lord. Do you wish me to go and fetch it?”
“No, no. Merely ring the bell. Surely there is someone in the kitchen?”
“I believe that Grace is tending dinner, My Lord. But I am sure that Mrs. Twitchel can find someone to bring up some tea.”
“Nephew, this is not necessary,” Lord Ronald said. “I have already made arrangements for your welfare. There is no need for tea.”
“There is always a need for tea,” Percival said. “In fact, I am fairly certain that both Mr. Kenault and Mr. Quentin will benefit greatly from it as soon as they have come round.”
