She said she wanted to settle outstanding bills before the next planting season.
The doctor claimed there were none.
Catherine produced a receipt she had found in the nursery cabinet, bearing his name and a payment for “private observation.” It was dated three months after Lydia’s reported death.
Vail studied it as though the ink might disappear.
“That was for another patient,” he said.
Catherine pointed to the initials L.V. written in the margin.
“Then another patient had my sister’s initials.”
For the first time Vail looked less like an authority than a man calculating how much confession would save him.
He admitted that Lydia had been alive when the death notice was issued.
He claimed she suffered from agitation and that Richard arranged treatment outside the household.
Catherine asked whether Lydia was ill or simply unwilling to stop accusing Richard.
Vail did not answer.
She asked whether he had certified the girl’s death without seeing a body.
His silence was enough.
“You signed a lie that made it easier to disappear her,” Catherine said.
“And you let me mourn her for fourteen years.”
The physician said Richard threatened to ruin his practice and expose debts he owed to merchants.
Catherine did not allow the explanation to become an excuse.
“You could have refused,” she said.
Vail replied that refusal would have cost him everything.
Catherine looked toward the yard where Elijah’s children sometimes played near the pump.
“Some people lose far more than a practice because men like you find it convenient to obey.” The doctor lowered his eyes.
He finally told her that Lydia had been moved between houses several times and had escaped from one confinement before being captured again.
He did not know her current location, he said, though Catherine could see he suspected more than he admitted.
When the guests began arriving, Vail insisted their conversation remain private.
Catherine told him that privacy could not be promised while people were missing.
She asked for the names of everyone he had treated under false descriptions.
He said he would need time to recover his books.
Catherine answered, “You have until the next morning.” He gave a small, frightened nod and returned to the parlor.
She watched him greet Richard with practiced warmth and wondered how many evenings she had mistaken such politeness for goodness.
The realization was painful, but it also made the task ahead clearer.
She could no longer accept a man’s manners as proof of his character.
Chapter 18: The Visitor From Richmond
