“But that’s not actually your name, is it? You were baptized Alaric Gerhardt Robert Rothmere. Why don’t you use your given name?”

There was a reason. Robert glanced at Nathaniel, who was looking stoic. “My father was Alaric,” Robert said, though that wasn’t the whole answer. “My mother preferred to call me by a name that would not result in confusion with the previous duke.”

Weatherby made a face conveying that the slow top had made a lucky guess. “And what day is today?”

“The day of my lunacy trial.” Someone in the gallery guffawed, and Robert cast around for the right day. A trial would not be held on Saturday or Sunday, meaning he had a one-in-five chance of guessing correctly.

“What day of the week is it, Your Grace? Surely you know the day of the week?”

The silence that followed started small and patient, then grew dismayed, and eventually tragic. Robert did not want to guess incorrectly—he was fairly certain the day was Friday, but it might be Thursday—and he was absolutely convinced a wrong answer would seal his fate.

Sir Leviticus rose. “Mr. Weatherby himself must grow forgetful, for this question was asked and answered by this very witness. Today is Friday, as His Grace recently informed us. Perhaps Mr. Weatherby intends to repeat his entire examination of the witness?”

Robert honestly could not recall answering the question previously, but Sir Leviticus’s ploy had reminded Drossman of the passing of time.

“Sir Leviticus has the right of it, Weatherby. You are repeating yourself. Have you any more questions that you haven’t asked previously?”

“Rothhaven knows not who sits on the throne of England. He knows not what day it is. I rest my case.” Weatherby made a sweeping bow in the direction of the jury.

Robert clutched the front of the witness box. “George the Fourth,” he said, a bit too loudly. “George the Fourth sits on the throne of the United Kingdom.”

That late answer—accurate though it was—only reinforced that Weatherby had succeeded in seizing the momentum of the trial, and God alone knew what the jury would make of a duke who could not recall the day of the week.

“Your Grace,” Drossman said, “you may step down. Sir Leviticus, you aren’t putting on any additional witnesses, are you?”

“Yes, sir,” Sir Leviticus said, as Robert took his place at the counsel table. “I anticipate the testimony will be brief.”

“See that it is. The commission is in recess for the noon hour. The proceedings will resume at two of the clock precisely.”

Robert knew exactly whom Sir Leviticus intended to call, but he doubted it would make any difference. The last five minutes had decided the case, and the next two hours were all the time that remained to him as a free man.