Lady Jane glanced up and nodded. "You're quite right. This ink splot looks like Orville, my pet ostrich."
Eve wanted to jump up and shout, Hoist the mainsails, we've got a strong wind at long last. She was finally getting somewhere. No mention of her patient's dratted husband.
"Yes," Jane continued firmly, as pointing at the picture. "This is Orville, my ostrich, walking in the garden with my beloved Asher."
Chapter Eleven
All About Eve
While Eve was privately seeing her patient, Adam was busy gossiping with Mrs. Fawlty, who gave him a quick tour of the Towers. The irascible housekeeper was a font of information about his wayward wife; she had been with Eve since the opening of the asylum. Listening to Mrs. Fawlty, Adam began to get a much better handle on Eve, for the housekeeper gave descriptions of her waking life. He quickly discovered that his bustling bride worked with patients morning and night, due to the fact that at least some of her patients could counsel with her only after dark, such as vampires, night hags, and gargoyles. Most of her time was spent in work, though Eve did attend some balls, routs, and plays. But mainly she stayed at the Towers, trying to cure the cretins under her care.
After several cups of tea bettered with brandy, Mrs. Fawlty admitted that Eve could be a mite autocratic whenever she wanted her way—which happened to be most of the time. The housekeeper also confided that Eve could be testy as well, which Mrs. Fawlty believed was the result of EBS—Empty Bed Syndrome. Dr. Eve's bed was empty of all but her sweet self, you see. When Mrs. Fawlty confided this last nugget of information, the lusty housekeeper gave Adam a knowing look followed by a pert wink. Next the housekeeper added that since the master was home, the missus would probably be early to bed and later to rise. Yes—she had grinned leeringly—there would be all kinds of risings. Which in her good opinion meant that Dr. Eve would have a tendency to be singing in the mornings rather than ordering everybody about.
After this rather revealing conversation with the housekeeper, Adam next encountered a leprechaun. He watched a few moments in silence as Fester carved out a hole in the wine cellar with a pickax, and after overhearing that Fester was hiding pots of gold, Adam had searched in high spirits, rubbing his hands gleefully together as he tried to spy the treasure about which Fester kept yammering. Adam had never seen a pot of gold at the end of any rainbow, but he still believed. After all, he was part Irish. If Fester said he had pots of gold, then no doubt he did.
Adam understood that Eve would have him walking the plank if she thought he might filch a pot or two of gold from one of her patients. Still, a man did what he had to do, and he couldn't help his infamous inclination. He had found himself in the situation of having to sing for his supper too many times before.
Casting aside his doubts, he carefully inspected the cellar, looking beneath every wine rack and odd box, all the while stifling the little twinges of guilt he felt. He rationalized his snooping with the fact that Fester was a patient of Eve's, and not likely to be leaving the asylum in the near future. Therefore, the leprechaun really had no need of pots of gold. And Adam would take only one or two of them, leaving the rest for the demented Fester.
Alas, Adam came up empty-handed, not finding any pots of gold. Not even one measly doubloon. It brought him to the unhappy conclusion that Fester, like Eve, had an overactive imagination.
Adam might have been more disappointed in this quirky turn of events if he hadn't decided to converse with the leprechaun to see just how delusional Fester was. Fester turned out to be highly entertaining, and extremely knowledgeable about government conspiracies. Adam was particularly impressed with the conspiracy about the Corn Laws, which Fester believed were an attempt by Parliament to cover up the huge circles found in cornfields. The leprechaun then added vehemently that the government was keeping the common masses from discovering that elephants resided in England, where they liked to play a game much like the one called ring-around-the-rosy. Furthermore, these elephants were going to be used to march over the Alps when England invaded Switzerland for its chocolate. It seemed that England had a shortage of chocolate, Fester had ended grandly, and Parliament didn't want the common masses to panic.
Being the gentleman that he was, Adam had nodded approvingly at the appropriate spots, hiding his grin. As far as conspiracy theories went, Fester's lacked common sense but had panache. He gave the inventive leprechaun a pat on the back for effort, and even helped him fill in one of his "gold holes." Then he had advised the daft dwarf to try his hand at writing.
Having had enough of fool's gold and lunatic leprechauns, Adam went in search of his beautiful bride. He yearned to bask in her company. He found Eve walking to the main entranceway with a pleasingly plump lady with remarkable greenish-silver eyes.
"Darling, there you are!" Adam said cheerfully as he approached, taking his bristling bride's hand in his own and kissing it tenderly. He disregarded completely her frigid demeanor. "Even though I saw you only a short while ago at breakfast, I find myself missing you, my little jewel."
Noting her patient's stunned expression, Eve quickly drew back her hand. She didn't want to introduce Adam to Lady Jane, but saw little choice. She would rather her patient meet her pernicious pretend husband than have Jane think she was involved in some scandal. After all, who—even a person with a Nosferatu husband—wanted to think of her doctor embroiled in some tawdry fly-by-night affair?
"Countess, this is my… husband," Eve said, her teeth aching to gnash in vexation. She sent him a withering glance. "Dr. Adam Griffin. Adam, this is the Countess of Wolverton, Lady Jane Asher."
Adam bowed, then politely kissed Lady Jane's hand. She exclaimed, "Oh, Dr. Eve, why didn't you tell me that your husband had arrived home? How exciting for you! I would have skipped my session today if I had known. I'm sure you two lovebirds long to be together, alone, and not deal with others' troubles—today of all days."
"You are as astute as you are charming," Adam answered agreeably.
"No, I didn't mind at all," Eve stated firmly at the same time. Seeing Lady Jane's confusion, she hastily amended, "Adam loves to tease, but I fear you'll think he's impertinent. Which he is, but that's another discussion. The discussion under discussion is that I truly enjoyed our session today, and wouldn't have postponed it for anything."
Adam sighed dramatically, a smile on his handsome face. " 'Tis true, Countess. My wife would only have worried if she hadn't seen you today. Her patients' welfare means a great deal to her. That's why I fancy her as I do. Such a compassionate lady, and such a fine, dedicated doctor."
Giving him a secret evil eye, Eve said, "My husband is a doctor as well, you know, and understands the profession's demands on time. I was glad to have our session today."
"But a husband is not just anybody," Lady Jane quickly pointed out. "A husband is a great part of a wife's happiness and duties—the latter which some spouses make seem like treats and not duties at all. I think your husband may be like my husband in that respect." Her eyes twinkling, Lady Jane smiled at Adam.
He grinned. "Truer words were never spoken. What a sensitive woman you are—and what a fortunate man your husband is," he said. Then he added with a dramatic shudder, "However, since I have been away from my beloved's side for so long, I fear my dearest feels she isn't even married. I am very much beginning to believe my winsome wife has grown so independent of her doting husband that she feels she has no spouse at all."
Eve glared at him behind Lady Jane's back, while the countess smiled knowingly. "I can tell how happy you are to be reunited with your wife, the sign of a happily married man. I still wish, though, that I had known you were due back from the Continent."