The lawyer shook his head. “No, your Grace—it would not. Whatever may have happened, sir, you have condoned, you see. Of course, I am not for a moment supposing that there are any grounds——”
“Stow that bosh!” said his client, as savagely as his weakness allowed. “If I could have divorced her all these years, and didn’t? If I said so now?”
The lawyer shook his head again. “It would not stand, sir.”
“Why not?” asked Cocky.
“Children born in wedlock must be legitimate heirs, your Grace,” the lawyer said, very decidedly, to pierce through the muddled senses of the dying client.
“Wedlock, eh?—wedlock?” repeated Cocky with a chuckle which ended in a convulsive cough. The word tickled his fancy mightily, though Mr. Curton could not imagine what he had said which was ludicrous. “Wedlock!” echoed Cocky; “you won’t beat that, Curton, in a brace of years!”
“The word is good law and good English, sir,” said the solicitor, a little offended. “I repeat, after so many years of wedlock you could not leave a posthumous charge of the kind behind you. It might be mere pique and malice on your part. No Court would ratify it. It would only make a dreadful scandal, sir, because, I presume, Lord Alberic would endeavor to uphold your declaration, since he is next in succession after your Grace’s sons.”
An angry flash came into Cocky’s sunken colorless eyes.
“Beric? Gad! I’d forgot that. So he would. I’d rather little Jack came after me. He’s a good plucked one; bit his lips not to squeal when I pinched him. And I don’t dislike poor Harry. He’s a good fellow, and she got over him.”
A fit of coughing stopped his revelations, to which the discreet lawyer turned a deaf ear. He was an excellent person who lived in a large, square, white house, with shrubberies, and a carriage-drive, and a page in buttons; to him marriage was marriage, and a duke and duchess were one and indivisible; when such people got into law courts he was sincerely sorry that they did not respect themselves as greatly as he respected them; he knew that the gentleman, too, who now lay dying had been in many discreditable straits, for he had himself been frequently called in to assist in getting the delinquent out of them; but a duke was a duke, Otterbourne was Otterbourne, in the eyes of the good and conservative attorney, and he had a deaf ear which he could turn very usefully when needed.