Us. Not just Zechariah. The upstanding doctor, too. It was one thing to wonder, to suspect, to try and tease it out, but it was another to hear.

It settled like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake instead of a waistcoat breezily meeting the floor.

He drew his feet off the ottoman, arms crossed. Well. They both liked tophat and now he felt a bit silly dragging the doctor into the depths with him.

“There is … some hope,” Zechariah said, cautiously. “The courts generally interpret ‘penetration’ as intercourse involving the rectum, and if he were not inclined, or he and his lovers were thorough, or his laundering service not nosy …” he gave a nod of the head for him to fill in the rest.