“I next saw my client…” If he’d had a handkerchief in his hands, Cranmouth would have twisted it to shreds. “Is this really necessary?”

A splendid touch.

Drossman looked over his glasses at the witness. “As Mr. Weatherby has brought a petition, and the Lord Chancellor has decided the case has merit on its face, yes. This is necessary. Answer the question, Mr. Cranmouth.”

“When next I saw His Grace, he was sitting on the walkway. His hat was in the gutter, his watch dangled from its pocket. His walking stick was on the ground. He appeared not to be himself.”

Weatherby waved a plump, pale hand. “Elaborate for the benefit of the jury.”

“His Grace did not greet me, did not say much of anything. He appeared confused and frightened, and when others approached to offer aid, he scuttled away. He would not allow me to help him to his feet; he would not speak to me. He relied on strangers to assist him and on Lady Constance Wentworth, who is no relation to him at all. He acted as if he had no idea who I was.”

“Had he perhaps stumbled and hit his head?” Weatherby asked.

“I saw no sign of bruising. Lord Nathaniel and Lady Constance Wentworth both confirmed His Grace had suffered a seizure. Her ladyship and his lordship are present, if the commission would like to question them directly.”

“The commission,” Drossman said, “would like to conclude this matter in time to enjoy a noon meal at home. Get on with your questions, Weatherby.”

“You said that His Grace’s books were mostly in order. Did aspects of the Rothmere finances give you cause for concern?”

“Not recently, no.”

“During the present duke’s tenure?”

“Well, that is hard to say. The present duke, Robert, that is, was least in sight at the time of his father’s death and for many years before. We all believed that Robert had pre-deceased his father, didn’t we? Lord Nathaniel, in fact, believed himself for a time to be the duke.”

The members of the commission on either side of Drossman were sitting up and looking interested.

“Are you implying that the present duke allowed his family to believe him dead?” Weatherby asked.

“I cannot say that, sir. I believed the present duke dead, and I assume Lord Nathaniel did as well. We were happily mistaken.”

Such a sickly smile. Cranmouth truly belonged on the stage.

“Have you any idea where His Grace might have been for all those—”

Sir Leviticus was on his feet. “I must object. The query before the jury relates to the duke’s present mental state, not the faculties he possessed years ago or where his father sent him to school.”