“I was, God forgive me.” He stared down at his highly polished shoes. “I was removed from a promising military career to act as equerry to His Royal Highness the Duke of Clarence, the heir to the throne. Everything I learned about him distressed me and disgusted me. His depraved sexual behavior with both men and women, his use of drugs, his errors of judgment . . . I hoped that he would never come to the throne. He would have been the ruin of the monarchy. When his doctor confided to me that he had contracted syphilis from a prostitute, I thought I should die of shame.

“Then a miracle happened: a most virulent strain of influenza swept the country. It felled the prince. He was at death’s door, lying in a coma. There were certain powerful personages at court who saw this as a chance to make sure he never recovered. They wanted me to finish him off, but I would not be party to deliberate killing.

“However, a second miracle occurred. On that very day a young footman succumbed to the disease. He was not unlike the prince in stature and coloring. A small group of conspirators managed to replace the comatose prince with the dead footman. The royal family was kept at a distance because of the risk of contracting the disease. The footman was buried with royal pomp, while the footman’s coffin contained several large rocks.”

He looked up at us with hopeless eyes. “The Duke of Clarence was whisked away to the country estate of one of the conspirators. Against all odds he recovered, at least partially. The high fever had damaged his brain and his heart and also sped up the progression of syphilis. He remained bedrid den, sometimes violent and not always coherent. A doctor told us he was not expected to live long, so it was decided to secret him far, far away, up here in Scotland.”

“Did members of the royal family know about this?” Darcy asked.

Padgett shook his head. “Of course not. And they must never know. Nobody must ever know. Has it already gone beyond this room?”

“Sir Jeremy Danville knows what I suspected,” I said.

“But he is head of the special branch,” Darcy said quickly. “They do not divulge secrets. And you can rely on Georgie and me.”

Major Padgett nodded. “It has been such a burden, all these years. I was assigned the task of being his keeper, you see. I can’t tell you how I despised that task—how I felt the whole thing was morally wrong.”

“Why did you accept if it was so repugnant to you?” Darcy asked.