It was a profound shock to the Prince of Wales (overcome as he was) to receive a letter from Dr Fisher regarding his decision to dismiss or retain Dr Nott. Hadn’t he dismissed the impertinent man? Was he still at the pavilion? Oh god, he was, wasn’t he? The Prince clutched his poor, feverish head. Why was everything so troublesome? What ought he to do? He reached for another glass of cherry brandy. “Get rid of him, McMahon…” he sighed to the secretary sitting beside his bed taking notes. “I will not have such a man influencing my daughter. Find someone who can be trusted to be on our side.”
“Of course, sir.”










