Page 59 of Silence of Deceit
The drapes were pulled, cloaking the room in darkness. A single lamp on his bedside table produced a circle of light around him as he lay in bed. Grayson, his valet, straightened from the bedside abruptly, a bottle and spoon in his hand. Without a word or a look in her direction, he took his leave.
Philip, propped against some pillows, turned his head toward her. His skin, ashen and waxy, turned her stomach. Dark shadows bruised his under eyes.
“What has happened to you?” She stepped forward. “Where have you been?”
Her fury all but vanished at his wretched appearance. She had seen him after days-long absences due to opium, but he had returned looking sloppy and confused, not like this. Unless he had found a new vice.
“I know we quarreled before I left for Northumberland, but for you to leave no word for nearly three days, and while a murderer was targeting their blackmail victims…how selfish could you possibly be?”
Philip closed his eyes and sighed. “It isn’t what you think.”
“Then tell me what it is because at the moment, I’m fearing the worst.”
He gestured for her to come sit next to him on the bed. Audrey assented but only perched on the edge. She then crossed her arms and waited.
“I have been to a doctor.”
“A doctor?” The beginning of their summer in Hertfordshire came back to her in a rush. They had barely arrived at Fournier Downs before Philip had come down with a severe malaise, one he could not escape for nearly a month. “Are you ill again?”
“It is…connected,” he said. “This was a private consultation and treatment from a physician at Lock Hospital.”
She held herself stiffly. Lock Hospital wasn’t as infamous as Bedlam, but its reputation was certainly known. It was not a hospital people readily admitted to visiting.
“For obvious reasons, I could not be seen there,” Philip continued, “so I took a room at Grillion’s Hotel for a few days and had Doctor Bagley attend me there.”
After months of agonizing over any possible scandal that would further corrode their reputation, to be seen setting foot inside Lock Hospital, known for its treatment of venereal diseases, would have been catastrophic. And to be attended to here, with a full staff of servants, also unwise.
“What are you ill with?” she asked after a moment. She’d had her suspicions, especially after the spell last June, and when Philip replied, his throat constricted, she realized she’d been correct.
“Syphilis,” he replied, so soft it was barely a whisper. “Grayson was the only one who knew I was at the Grillion, and why. I ordered him to remain quiet, even from you.”
Audrey felt no resentment or anger toward his valet; the man had lied outright to her, saying he didn’t know where the duke had gone off to, but his loyalty to Philip was to be admired.
“What sort of treatment?” she asked.
Syphilis was not uncommon; in fact, if rumors among the ton were anywhere near the truth, the disease ran rampant among them. And if the upper crust of society suffered in large numbers, who knew how many more among the middle and lower classes were afflicted.
It was a debilitating disease, one that flared and receded, but in time, could cause horrendous problems. Shadewell had been a place to convalesce for a number of men and women suffering from it.
“It’s called mercury salivation,” Philip said, then, a shudder wracked his body. Audrey uncrossed her arms and reached for him. He held up his hand weakly. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. It seems my body rejects even the name of the treatment now. Don’t ask me to describe it, you will be utterly appalled.”
It was his gray pallor and weakened state that appalled her, however. “Was it truly that horrible?”
“Worse than what you are probably even thinking,” he replied, but then tried for a grin. “Doctor Bagley says it is supposed to be a lasting cure.”
She took his hand and squeezed. “Why didn’t you tell me? I was worried. I thought…”
“That I had fallen into my old ways?” He squeezed her hand in return. “I am sorry. You’re right. I should have told you, but darling, I was ashamed.”
Where he had contracted the disease was no mystery. He and Lord St. John had been lovers until the dissolution of their relationship and the murder of Miss Belladora Lovejoy. Before that, he’d been addicted to opium, and he could have shared relations with someone else then too. He did not have clear memories of that time. While she had been angry with him for the opium and for carrying on in secret with St. John behind her back, it was not a bitterness she could cling to now.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You never have to be ashamed of anything with me,” she said, unexpected tears biting the backs of her eyelids.
“You are far better than me, in everything. I am weak.”
“You are human.”
“You’re my very best friend, Audrey. And I have failed you. Time and time again.”
