I had heard of asylums that instituted “moral treatments” of their patients, but those were few and far between, and often derided for their methodology. I was quite certain the old Lord Dalmay, Will’s father, who was a heartless despot, had not sent his son to one of those.
I pressed my hands into the hard wood of the table, hoping its stability would calm the swirling in my head and in my stomach. Questions flooded my mind, overwhelming me with the need for answers, and yet I was unable to speak them. Lord Keswick leaned over to ask if I was well, and somehow I managed to nod.
“Surely this is not an appropriate conversation for the dinner table, let alone a young lady’s ears,” Lady Hollingsworth proclaimed in disgust, apparently having regained control of herself after all of her shrieking.
It was obvious now what had upset her enough to send an urgent missive to Philip and threaten to call off the engagement. She was undoubtedly concerned with how Will’s mental state would affect her family. After all, marrying your daughter into a lineage with known madness was no small matter. I fully grasped what a blight even a hint of mental illness could be to a family. It called into question the stability of every member and made one fear for the sanity of future children.
However, I was quite certain Lady Hollingsworth was more concerned with the ramifications to her family’s reputation than whether Will’s alleged insanity could be catching.
I turned to glare at her, wanting to snap at her for her ridiculous comment. The tragic past of a beloved family friend is not appropriate dinner conversation, and yet the treatment of your sister’s goiter is?
Whether or not he had seen the venomous look I sent his aunt’s way, Philip took control of the situation. “Perhaps the gentlemen should skip their port tonight, and we should all adjourn to the drawing room.”
The others murmured their assent and began rising from their chairs. Still dazed and disoriented, it took me longer to follow. I simply could not convince my limbs to obey. I sat there, staring at the remnants of my mostly uneaten cheese and fruit, chasing the same thoughts round and round my head.
It wasn’t until Gage bent over me and asked if I was finished that I was jolted out of my trance. The warmth of his hands at my back as he pulled out my chair and supported me by the elbow was somehow bracing and yet comforting at the same time. It was exactly what I needed. Though by no means was I returned to myself when he pulled my arm through his and escorted me from the room.
The others were already gathered in the drawing room when we entered, seeming to have drawn up flanks. Lady Hollingsworth had settled on a pale blue and white damask settee between her two children. Damien appeared as fierce as his mother, but Caroline was plainly miserable, torn between her mother and brother and the man she loved seated across the room. Michael sat in a rather ornate golden chair between his sister and Lord Keswick on one side and Miss Remmington on the other. Obviously having chosen to play the mediator, Philip took up a position off to the side, behind where Alana rested on an indigo-patterned settee, glancing worriedly between the two opposing factions.
Gage guided me over to them. I sat next to Alana, who promptly took hold of my hand. While the others continued to square off in silent accusation, I seemed to be the only one who noticed when Gage crossed the room to take up what I knew to be his customary position before the fireplace mantel. One arm rested negligently against the shelf of wood, somehow avoiding the delicate porcelain figurines littering its surface, as he crossed one ankle over the other and slouched against the wall. He seemed to be settling in to watch a show, which I resented. Shouldn’t he be offering his friend Michael his support, or at least helping to arbitrate matters, rather than distancing himself from the gathering as if he were a spectator?
“Now, then,” Philip said. “Dalmay, I think we deserve an explanation.”
Michael’s gaze shifted from the occupants of the settee across from him to look first at Philip and then at Alana and me. He sighed and reached up to rub his temples with one hand. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. But first I must apologize to Lady Darby. I did not know that you believed Will was dead. Or that no one had given you at least some idea of the matters that called your brother-in-law here.” His eyes darted toward Lady Hollingsworth and back. “Otherwise I would never have broken the news in such a thoughtless manner. Please accept my sincere regret.”
I nodded.