Page 51 of Salt Magic, Skin Magic
She lowered her candle to make it easier for him.
Lord Dalton,
I am relieved to hear Lord Thornby’s periods of mania appear to be less frequent and severe in nature as his marriage prospects improve. As your lordship has so rightly pointed out, behaving kindly and morally in these cases is always for the best, and the loving guidance of a father may be the only treatment required in this case. Many young men of a sensitive temperament may be nervous before this great step in life, and all may resolve itself once he is happily settled.
Regarding the periods of listlessness you mention, I do suggest that some therapeutic employment suitable to a young man of Lord Thornby’s station would be advisable, as long as it is not too taxing or exciting.
Your last letter has set my mind much at ease and I believe there are true grounds for optimism. However, should you require my services in the future, please do not hesitate. Reversals can occur quite suddenly and quick action may be better than delaying overly long.
Should you find yourself in this position I can assure you that the interior of Clifton House is most commodious and well adapted, having been built for the purpose.
Your servant, sir
Gilbert Holmes, MD, Superintendent, Clifton House, York
John stared at her, blood running cold.
“Clifton House,” she said. “It’s a lunatic asylum near York.”
He nodded, finding no words.
“You must get him out, Mr Blake.”
“I’m trying.”
“He must delay marrying as long as he can. I never believed him. All those things he says at dinner. But it’s true. His instinct has been right all along! Dalton will marry him off, wait until he has the girl’s money and then discredit him and take the money himself.”
“Yes.”
“Dalton’s a—a monster, isn’t he?” Her voice suddenly broke. She gave one sob, and clapped her hand over her mouth to silence herself.
“My lady, it may not be in his nature. He’s cursed. It may be driving him to do these things.”
“To put his son in an asylum, even though he’s sane? What could be so important that he would do that?”
“The money, I suppose.”
“But he will simply spend it on some useless bits of rock in the middle of the sea! What is the point, Mr Blake? What is his purpose?”
“I don’t know. I am trying to discover it. If I could understand—”
There was a sound in the room behind her, of a man snorting and turning over in bed, then snoring again at a slightly different timbre.
She at once had control of herself again. She plucked the letter out of John’s hand. “You may go now, Mr Blake. I am quite capable of managing for the rest of the night.”
“I see that, my lady. Thank you.”
She gave him a nod, and was gone. He stood in the dark, staring at nothing for a long moment, then pulled the rowan twig and sulphur from his pocket, made a light, and set off through the dark passages to Soren.
