“Did you love him?” It was not a question he had intended to ask. It served no purpose to his case. He spoke without forethought, only a sudden overwhelming emotion, which was inexcusable, totally unprofessional. “Of course,” Ravensbrook answered, his dark eyebrows raised very slightly. “One does not withdraw one's loyalty or regard from a member of one's family simply because they are of a difficult nature. One hopes that with care they will grow out of it.”

“And did Caleb grow out of it?”

Ravensbrook did not reply.

“Did he grow out of the envy of his brother?” Rathbone persisted. “Did they regain their earlier closeness?”

Ravensbrook's face was tight, bitterly inward, as if he exercised an iron control.

“It did not appear so to me.”

In the dock Caleb let out a short bark of derisive laughter and the judge swiveled around to glare at him, breath drawn in to reprove him if he should make another sound.

Among the jurors a man frowned, another shook his head and pursed his lips.

Ebenezer Goode stiffened. It was the first negative sign to his case, although he must surely have known that Caleb's manner, the very expression on his face, was the greatest single factor against him. There was no evidence, at least so far; it was a matter of emotion and belief, a question of interpretation.

Rathbone pursued the line of inquiry.

“Lord Ravensbrook, will you draw for the court the pattern of the relationship between these two brothers as they grew up in your house. Were they educated similarly, for example?”

A bitter smile touched Ravensbrook's chiseled mouth, then vanished instantly.

“Exactly the same,” he replied. “There was one tutor who taught one set of lessons. It was only their response which was different. In every regard I treated them equally, as did all the rest of the staff.”

“Everyone?” Rathbone affected surprise. “Surely there would have been those who had favorites? As you say, the boys became increasingly dissimilar.”

Caleb leaned forward in the dock, his face eager, listening intently.

Ravensbrook must have been aware of it, but he stood without the slightest movement. He could have been carved in bone. He was a man wading through a nightmare, and it showed in every line and angle of his body.

Enid's eyes seemed never to leave his face.

“Lord Ravensbrook!” Rathbone felt he needed to attract his attention before there was any purpose in repeating his question.

Ravensbrook looked at him slowly.

“Lord Ravensbrook, you have told us how unlike these two boys became.

Surely others who know them must have felt differently towards them? Angus had every virtue: honesty, humility, gratitude, generosity; while Caleb was aggressive, lazy and ungrateful. If that is so, can people truly have regarded them with equal affection?”