“Caleb left shortly before that. He simply walked out. I heard rumor that he had been seen in the village, stories of drinking, brawling.”

Ravensbrook remained silent for a moment. There was not a sound in the room. “Then they ceased,” he finished. “I presume that was when he went to London.”

“But he did not take up any position, any calling?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Did you seek to find any position for him?”

Ravensbrook winced. “I could not recommend him to anyone. It would have been dishonest. He was a violent and deceitful man, and appeared possessed of very few skills that were of any use.”

In the crowd Enid Ravensbrook sat with such a pity in her face one might have thought it was that which had ravaged her rather than disease. Hester slid her arm around her and held her with a tenderness as if she might break.

“I see,” Rathbone murmured. “Thank you, my lord. Did he at this time express any hatred or jealousy towards his brother, who sounds to have and to be everything he was not?”

“Yes, frequently,” Ravensbrook acknowledged. “He both hated and despised his brother.”

“Despised him?” Rathbone affected surprise.

Ravensbrook's face was bitter. “He thought Angus weak and dependent, lacking in either courage or individuality. He thought him a coward, and said so. I imagine it was his way of excusing his own failure, in his mind.”

“Possibly.” Rathbone nodded. “We are, most of us, loath to admit fault in ourselves. Thank you, my lord. That is all I have to ask you. Would you be so good as to remain for my learned friend to speak with you.”

Ebenezer Goode was courteous, and at least outwardly genial. He rose to his feet and strolled into the center of the floor, his startling face full of interest.

“All this must be deeply distressing for you, Lord Ravensbrook. It would be for any man. I shall be as brief as I am able.” He sighed. “You have painted a vivid picture of two brothers who began with a deep bond between them and grew apart, one favored, obedient, talented; the other rebellious, unconventional, and rightly or wrongly, feeling himself less favored. It was not surprising he should express a resentment and a jealousy.” He glanced at the jury with his dazzling, wolfish smile. “Brothers do fight with each other at times. Any family man will tell you that. Yet you say that you never witnessed any of their fights?”

“That is correct.” There was no expression on Ravensbrook's face.

“And the resultant injuries, whether from fights or other youthful masculine pursuits,” Goode pursued, “such as climbing trees, riding horses and so on, were they serious? For example, were there ever broken bones, concussions, dangerous bleeding?”

“No, merely abrasions and some severe bruising.” Ravensbrook remained expressionless, his voice flat.

“Tell me, my lord, did either brother suffer these injuries very much more severely than the other?” Goode inquired.