The Heiress Effect (Brothers Sinister #2)(97)

“Of course,” Lirington said smoothly.

She had gazed at Anjan briefly when he’d returned to the room—a cool, questioning look. But she folded her hands and contemplated them now without sparing him a second glance.

“My uncle is my guardian,” she finally said. “I have a medical condition, one that Doctor Russell here in London says is a convulsive condition.” Her fingers played with a button on her cuff. “There is no cure for it, not one that has been discovered, at least.” She shrugged. “It is an annoyance, of course, but it leaves me in no danger.”

Anjan nodded, remembering the fit he had seen.

“My uncle,” she continued, “nonetheless wishes to seek a cure. He believes that no man will wish to marry me until the matter is resolved.”

So saying, she set her hands to her cuff at her wrist and very deliberately undid it.

“I say,” Lirington said. But he didn’t speak beyond that. He stared at the pale skin of her wrist, utterly riveted at the sight, leaning forward. Anjan wanted to smack his friend or turn him away from the sight of her skin.

“He has had me shocked with galvanic current,” she said, undoing a second button. “He had a man hold my head underwater. There was the man with a contraption. It utilized leverage to apply bruising force to my leg when a convulsion started.” She undid more buttons as she spoke. “We stopped use of the machine after it broke my femur.”

His eyes rose to hers, and he felt a moment of sick comprehension. When she’d talked of their walks being an escape, he’d imagined her as simply rebellious. But this? This was awful.

She spoke so matter-of-factly that Lirington simply nodded in tune to her recital, as if these things that she were listing were normal activities. If he hadn’t been looking for it, Anjan would have missed the way her fingers shook as she undid the next button and rolled up her sleeve, revealing a white, perfectly round scar.

“A doctor had me burned with a red-hot poker,” she said. “He thought it would disrupt my convulsions. It did not.”

Anjan gripped the arms of his chair. Barbaric, that’s what it was. It was barbaric. And how had he not known this? All those weeks they had walked together, and she had said not a word. He’d lectured her about family. About doing as her uncle told her.

He felt a fury rising in him.

“Gentlemen,” she said, still calm, “I hope you will understand when I refrain from showing you the burns on my thigh.”

“Miss Fairfield,” Lirington said in confusion, “this is all well and good, but I am at a loss as to how we are to help you. It is your guardian’s duty to provide medical care, after all.”

“It is not well,” Anjan heard himself growl. “Neither is it good.”

She heard him and smiled. “Well, one possibility is to petition for a change of guardian. I had hoped…”

“We handle maritime affairs,” Lirington said. “This is a matter for Chancery.” He shook his head. “As grievously as you no doubt have suffered, I do not see how we could be of service. My secretary, Mr. Walton, can provide you a list, but—I am desolate to admit—we ourselves can do nothing. Now, if you’ll excuse us…” He stood. “Batty, as you’re here, I think we should discuss the Westfeld accounts after all. My father is in his office, and—”

He turned as Emily stood. For the first time in her visit, she looked perturbed. “But I don’t know them,” she said. “I don’t know those other people. And the situation is more urgent than can be solved by a motion in Chancery. I’ve objected to the treatment. In return, my uncle is—that is, I found correspondence with…” She swallowed and met Anjan’s eyes. “He wants to declare me incompetent. He’ll put me away. I’ll never be able to make my own decisions.”

Anjan swallowed away a sick feeling. People made jokes about Bedlam, but the things he’d heard… An asylum was no place for anyone, let alone Emily.

“Already he refuses to allow me out of the house. When he discovered I was sneaking out…” She turned her head to Anjan, and nodded. “…he had a servant start sleeping in my room. I didn’t even have a chance to say good-bye.”

Lirington shook his head. “I’m sorry.” It was a dismissal, not an apology.

Anjan didn’t move. He was rooted in place, everything he knew about her falling into order.

Her breath was coming faster now. “My sister will help. She’s of age, and she has enough money to pay whatever it is you need.”

“I do wish you the best,” Lirington said, “but—”

“Be quiet, Lirington,” Anjan heard himself grate out. “She never asked for your opinion. She came to me.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Lirington frowned, though, and then his lips quirked, as if he were just remembering that in fact, she had asked for Anjan. By name. “I don’t understand,” he finally said. “Why would she do that?”

Anjan didn’t answer.

“Because I knew,” Emily said. “I knew if I came here, I would get a fair hearing. I knew, at the very least, that you would listen. That you would care.”

“Is that what you think?” Anjan said, almost curious to hear her answer. “I haven’t seen you in months; you disappear with scarcely a word to me. And you think that you can just arrive and tell me that I care?”