Oh, no, not by any means everything.
“Mesmerism, you must understand,” he told Prince Albert Victor gently, patting Eddy’s hands, “has been used quite successfully by reputable surgeons to amputate a man’s leg, without any need for anesthesia. And the French are working the most wondrous marvels of persuasion one could imagine, making grown men crow like chickens and persuading ladies they have said and done things they have never said or done in their lives.”
And in the parlour down the hall from this study, a homicidal Liverpudlian cotton merchant had just been spilling his darkest secrets under Lachley’s considerable influence.
“Oh, yes, Eddy,” he smiled, “the powers of mesmerism are quite remarkable. And I am, without modesty, quite an accomplished mesmerist. Don’t trouble yourself further about that miserable little sod, Morgan. Contact him, by all means, promise to pay the little bastard whatever he wants. Promise him the world, promise him the keys to your grandmother’s palace, for God’s sake, just so long as we keep him happy until I can act. We’ll find your letters, Eddy, and we’ll get back your letters, and I promise you faithfully, before tomorrow night ends, there will be no more threat.”
His oh-so-gullible, most important client gulped, dull eyes slightly brighter, daring to hope. “You’ll save me, then? John, promise me, you will save me from prison?”
“Of course I will, Eddy,” he smiled, bending down to plant a kiss on the prince’s trembling lips. “Trouble yourself no more, Eddy. Just leave it in my capable hands.”