Page 70 of How to Fall for a Scoundrel
Harry’s lips quirked teasingly. “Oh really? That is excellent—”
She sent him a quelling frown for his deliberate misinterpretation. “About how unusual they are. As an identifying feature. Tell me, Hugo, did he always have eyes like that?”
“Ever since birth,” the older man said. “I saw him as a baby, about a week or so after he was born, and my brother remarked on it. James was worried that the difference in color indicated something sinister—a defect,or a weakness in the eye, perhaps, that meant Harry would be blind.”
Hugo wrinkled his brow, and his own eyes lost their focus as he tried to think back to that time. “In fact, he didn’t believe the local doctor, old John Williams, and demanded a second opinion from a specialist who dealt only with the eyes. They brought Harry here, to London, to see the man.”
Harry took the empty seat next to Ellie on the chaise longue. His knee casually brushed hers, and her pulse fluttered even as she told herself to concentrate on the task in hand.
“The specialist presumably reassured them that, although rare, the condition is harmless,” Harry said. “It’s called heteroglaucos. I remember my father telling me about it when I was about ten or so. He said I was in exalted company, because apparently Alexander the Great had eyes that were two different colors too.” He gave a wistful smile. “Of course, that made ten-year-old me feel quite special and invincible.”
A sudden image of Harry as an adorable boy formed in Ellie’s mind and her heart gave a little squeeze for the carefree, innocent child he must have been before his parents had been taken from him. To lose both of them in one fell swoop must have been devastating, and she found herself fervently glad that he’d had the loving, if slightly disreputable, presence of Hugo to help him navigate his grief.
She blinked as she realized Harry was still talking.
“A mixture of pigments is needed to make certain eye colors,” he said. “Hazel and green eyes need a combination of both blue and brown flecks dispersed within the iris. Sometimes, however—as in my case—one eye has a concentration of pigment that gives it a colored segment, or even produces two completely different color eyes.”
He turned to Ellie and stared unblinkingly at her, and she took the opportunity to study the strange feature at close quarters again. Her stomach fluttered as his pupils darkened with desire, almost obscuring the iris. Heat pooled low in her belly.
“So you could be the only person in the world with that particular arrangement of colors?” Tess asked.
Harry nodded, breaking the silent hold he’d had on Ellie’s gaze. “Most likely. It’s certainly a very specific identifying feature.”
Ellie tapped her pencil on her pad. “I think it’s rare enough that if we can show that Harry and young Henry Cobham share the same unique eye coloring, that’s enough to prove that you are one and the same person.”
Tess leaned forward. “Hugo, can you remember the name of the doctor your brother consulted?”
Hugo squinted up at the ceiling. “I’m not sure I ever heard it. Besides, it was over twenty years ago.”
Daisy gave a sigh of frustration. “That’s a pity. Because if we could find him, he might be willing to give evidence in Harry’s defense.”
Ellie frowned down at her paper. “Even if he did, it’s unlikely his testimony alone would be enough. A competent lawyer would argue that his memory could be faulty and unreliable after all this time.”
Hugo gave a start, as if hit by sudden inspiration. “Wait! I might not know the name, but Idoremember that they took you to see him once a week for several months. The man was so intrigued by your case that he presented his findings to the Royal Society. They published the article. I remember reading it.”
Tess raised her brows. “That article, or his notes, would be excellent evidence.”
Ellie’s excitement grew. This, potentially, was a breakthrough. “Surely the Royal Society will have a copy of the article in their archives?”
“They will, but without knowing the name of the author it’s going to be hard to find.”
“It ought to have been published a year or so after Harry was born,” Ellie said. “Is that right, Hugo?”
The older man nodded. “Yes, he was only a baby.”
Ellie turned to Harry. “When were you born?”
“September the twentieth, 1790.”
Ellie did some swift mental calculation. He was twenty-six. Four years older than herself. “So that would make the article published in 1791 or ’92. That’s a good start.”
“The Royal Society’s headquarters are in Somerset House,” Daisy said. “In the opposite wing to the Royal Academy of Arts. I went there last summer for an exhibition.”
The tea arrived, along with a delicious-looking lemon cake, and Daisy’s expression turned joyous. Tess took on the task of pouring them all a cup.
“I happen to be free to visit Somerset House this afternoon, if you are?” Harry said to Ellie.
She shot him an amused glance. “I thought you wanted King and Company to handle this investigation? You’re paying us to do so, in fact.”