Chapter 30
In the drawing room, a footman came forward carrying a silver platter.
Instead of drinks, though, it held black strips of fabric: mourning armbands.
While the Duke and Alec put them on, Kendra surveyed the room.
Area rugs in burnished gold, muted greens, and grayish-blues softened the space up a bit, as did the sofas and chairs arranged in conversational pockets.
Twenty-plus men, all wearing black armbands, were talking in low voices around the room.
A few occupied chairs; others stood in front of the enormous fireplace with a marble-and-wood mantle, taking advantage of the warmth of the fire raging in the grate.
Most of the men, however, were crowded in front of the long buffet, which carried an assortment of drinks on one end and platters of food on the other.
Kendra noticed Dr. Munroe in the group near the fireplace, while Dandridge, Goldsten, and Burnell were near the buffet table. There were other faces that were familiar—from Goldsten’s surgery and St. George’s. She recognized Mr. Barts, Mr. Dawes, and Mr. Beane among the apprentices.
The only other woman in the room was a frail old woman wearing a gown the color of a ripe eggplant, sitting in one of the chairs. No one was talking to her, leaving her to quietly observe the circulating men as she sipped her sherry.
Sir Preston, his age-speckled hand curving over the silver handle of his walking stick, ambled over to greet them.
“Lord and Lady Sutcliffe. And Your Grace!” His wrinkles deepened with his smile.
“Delighted to see you again, sir. When was the last time? The lecture on astronomy that Mr. Herschel gave at the Royal Society, I believe?”
The Duke inclined his head. “Yes, and I would wish for a happier reason to meet again, Sir Preston. My condolences on the loss of your colleague.”
“Thank you. Lucien was a friend as well as one of the finest physicians in London.” He glanced away and sighed. “I confess, I’m still in shock about this whole business. Who would do such a thing? What possible motive could they have? ’Tis madness.”
Kendra studied their host. “How long did you know Dr. Thornton?”
He blinked at the question. “Oh, goodness. Forty years, at least. He was actually my apprentice when he was only a young pup starting out. Brilliant mind. I recognized it the instant I met him.”
“You must have known his wife.”
“Yes, indeed.” His lips compressed into a tight seam of sorrow.
“Another tragedy. Lucien was a young physician at that point. Not afraid to get his hands dirty, as it were, unlike those who aspire only to coddle the wealthy by handing them tonic water and tinctures. When Elizabeth was diagnosed, Lucien knew . . . well, we both knew. Still, he tried everything. Those are the times that remind us how limited our medical knowledge is.”
“Ah, beating a familiar drum, Sir Preston,” said Burnell, as he and Dandridge strolled over to join them.
“It’s a drum you beat loudly yourself, sir.”
“Yes, indeed. And I will continue to beat it until real reform is done. Lord and Lady Sutcliffe.” Burnell acknowledged them with a slight bow, then turned to the Duke. “Your Grace. You probably don’t remember, but we were introduced at the London Institution a few years ago.”
“’Tis good to see you again, Mr. Burnell,” the Duke said politely.
“Do you specialize in any particular disease, Mr. Burnell?” Kendra asked.
He gave her a strange look. “Specialize? No. I can’t imagine anyone limiting their skills or interest to only one illness.”
“Sir Preston.”
At the high-pitched, croaky voice, the group of men parted to allow the old woman Kendra had noticed earlier to join them.
She followed protocol, waiting for her husband to introduce her as Lady Maude, then said, “This is an informal gathering to pay respects to Dr. Thornton, but please avail yourself of refreshments and food.”
Lady Maude skillfully ushered them to the buffet table. Kendra got the impression that the woman had been playing hostess to her husband’s colleagues for decades. Maybe half a century, based on her wrinkles and the hairs sprouting from her chin.
After accepting a glass of wine, Kendra somehow found herself culled from the men, sitting in a chair opposite Lady Maude.
“I confess, it’s rather nice to have another lady present at these soirees,” Lady Maude said, taking a sip of her sherry before pinning Kendra with an intelligent gaze.
“However, you’re not here to simply pay your respects, are you?
Sir Preston tells me that you are investigating Lady Westford’s death. ”
“I am. Did you know her?”
“Oh, yes. We worked together on several committees at St. George’s.
I wouldn’t say we were friends, but we had our mutual passions.
I quite liked her. And I never believed the fustian that she threw herself off that theater balcony.
Nor could I imagine her being so butter-fingered to accidentally fall off, no matter what Lucien said. ”
Kendra regarded the old woman. “Why do you think he made that determination, then?”
“Lord Westford, no doubt. Trying to stop the investigation.”
“You think Lord Westford killed his wife?”
“Oh, good heavens, no! He’s a lord of the realm. No, no. I expect he simply didn’t want the gossip associated with an investigation.”
Kendra didn’t understand why a lord of the realm would get a pass on murder any more than why gossip was more important than getting justice. But since she was no longer focused on Lord Westford as a suspect, she let it go.
“When was the last time you saw Lady Westford?”
Lady Maude took another swallow of her sherry. “Our last meeting at St. George’s. Monday afternoon—a week before her death.”
“What was the meeting about?”
Lady Maude raised her eyebrows a fraction, as though surprised to be asked such a question.
“Whether we ought to use the funds we’d raised for repairs, or wait until a decision was made to tear down the hospital.
Grace—that is, Lady Westford—and I were in accord in not wanting to throw good money after bad. ”
“Did she appear worried or upset to you?”
“I don’t recall her being blue-devilled. She wasn’t in high spirits or particularly happy, but she was never a flighty, frivolous creature.”
“Did she talk to you about anything aside from hospital business?”
“Not then.”
“She did other times?”
Lady Maude gave a delicate shrug. “She was an intelligent woman. Of course, we spoke about different subjects. She had a passion for natural philosophy, and while I can’t say that I share it, I’ve certainly been exposed to it through my husband.”
“Did she talk to you about her interest in advancing medicine—coming up with new treatments, curing disease?”
“Well, yes. She and Mr. Jenner were engaged in a lively correspondence. She was quite fascinated by how he first began experimenting with cowpox. He also conducted experiments with human blood that quite intrigued her.”
Kendra found herself leaning forward. “What kind of experiments?”
“Oh, goodness, I don’t know. You ought to ask my husband . . . or anyone else here.”
“Has anyone here experimented with human blood? Maybe bloodletting or transfusions?”
“Bloodletting, yes. What reputable physician or surgeon has not? But blood transfusions are illegal in this country, my lady. Though I expect, as an American, you aren’t familiar with English law.”
Lady Maude lifted the wineglass to her lips, then paused and eyed Kendra. “That’s not to say there aren’t many discussions at my husband’s meetings on how to treat and even cure illnesses by introducing a vaccine into the bloodstream or purifying the blood in some fashion.”
“Purifying the blood how?”
“Oh, that I can’t tell you. I don’t actually attend the meetings when Sir Preston is the host. I’ve helped as hostess and have overheard a few things.”
“Sir Preston founded the club, didn’t he?” Kendra asked politely.
“Yes, along with Lucien—Dr. Thornton—and Mr. John Hunter.” Lady Maude tilted her bristly chin up, her eyes glowing with pride. “He was renowned in the medical circles here. Unfortunately, the club was still new when he had his seizure and died.”
Kendra made a sympathetic noise.
“Sir Preston and Lucien paid tribute to Mr. Hunter by continuing his practice of allowing members to join based on merit and experience, rather than following a patronage-based system. Oh, I know what you are thinking, my lady.” The matron smiled at her.
“My husband is a baron, and some might say he’s benefited from the patronage-based system, but he’s never relied on it.
He is a strong believer in medical knowledge and skill. ”
Kendra hadn’t been thinking anything of the sort, but now asked, “He believes in pushing the boundaries of science?”
“Every Metamorphosis Club member believes true discovery comes only from pushing boundaries.”
“Is there anyone in the club more likely to try it?”
Lady Maude’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “What an odd question, my lady. Whatever do you mean?”
“I was just wondering if anyone had been particularly vocal about the rules and regulations that keep medicine from advancing. I can imagine that would be frustrating.”
Lady Maude pursed her lips. “Well, all the members find that quite vexing.”
“Is anyone here known for bending the rules for the sake of medicine?” Kendra asked.
The old woman studied her carefully. “Yes,” she replied. “Dr. Munroe. The law is quite strict in the use of cadavers for medical examination. Sir Preston says it’s impossible to treat the body when one doesn’t even know how it works.”
“He’s right.” Kendra summoned a smile, even as she believed that Lady Maude knew a lot more than what she was letting on.
***
After extracting herself from Lady Maude’s company, Kendra joined a circle of men that included Burnell, Dandridge, and Goldsten’s two apprentices, Mr. Beane and Mr. Dawes.