In the living room of Albion Villa, thick curtains hung tightly down, isolating the night and sea fog outside the window.

The mixed light of several gas lamps and oil lamps cast contrasting spots of light and shadow on the walls, making the portraits in golden frames seem to gaze at everyone in the room.

The Duchess of Kent half-reclined on the sofa, clutching an embroidered handkerchief, her gaze drifting occasionally towards the bedroom door upstairs.

"John..." she hesitated to speak: "Are you really not going to follow Doctor Snow’s instructions? Delina has had a high fever for three days, and this afternoon she couldn’t even drink soup. I think this may not just be a tantrum."

Conroy stood beside the floor lamp, his back elongated by the light: "Your Highness, I understand your concerns. However, even if Her Highness the Princess really is ill, if we rashly use medicine before Dr. Clark’s return from London, especially Snow’s method that hasn’t been widely recognized, who would bear the responsibility if something goes wrong?"

"But she’s my daughter." The Duchess of Kent clenched the handkerchief: "If she’s really sick, she should take medication. Besides, didn’t Flora vouch for Doctor Snow? He’s a doctor at Westminster Hospital, not some charlatan."

"Precisely, which is why we must be cautious." Conroy walked to the coffee table and picked up the quinine bottle left by John Snow: "Even if he is a doctor recommended by Flora, who can guarantee he’s not sent by the Duke of Cumberland to harm Her Highness the Princess? If she takes the medicine tonight and her condition worsens, no one will be able to clear themselves tomorrow. But it’s different with Clark, he was recommended by His Majesty Leopold, and has long served the Royal Family, I am more inclined to trust his judgment."

Conroy’s words were spoken with great magnanimity, but if Arthur were here, he would undoubtedly expose this guy’s hypocrisy to his face.

Not to mention that Dr. Clark was originally driven back to London from Ramsgate by Conroy, and his intention to drive away Dr. Clark was even less pure. In Arthur’s view, whether it was driving him away or Clark, it was all part of Conroy’s plan to force Victoria to sign an extension of the regency agreement and promise to appoint Conroy as the Queen’s private secretary and chief advisor once she ascends the throne.

Even before he came to Ramsgate, he was plotting how to challenge Victoria, and to ensure Victoria would eventually succumb, he had to remove every dissenter he could, leaving Victoria as isolated as possible.

First Clark, then Arthur, and if it weren’t for the Duchess of Northumberland rushing over from London earlier, Lady Leisen would probably have been driven from Albion Villa by Conroy as well.

Now, with Victoria’s condition critical, Conroy finally realized that he might have made a grave mistake, so he urgently sent someone to summon Dr. Clark back from London.

Whether Clark can cure Victoria doesn’t matter, what matters is that once Clark returns, he can shirk responsibility, blaming Victoria’s severe illness on Clark’s lack of skill.

And since Clark was recommended by Leopold, it also becomes the fault of the King of Belgium.

But if he follows Snow’s advice and heals her, there’s no credit to be had, and if it fails, it would be because of his poor judgment.

He’s not willing to make a decision where the risks far outweigh the rewards.

Previously, he reluctantly agreed to let John Snow treat Victoria solely due to Lady Leisen and Miss Flora Hastings’ insistence. If not for the fear of Victoria truly having issues, he wouldn’t even have wanted to let Snow in.

Now, Victoria’s condition seems to have initially stabilized, so he’s naturally not in a hurry to make a decision.

On the contrary, he wants to take advantage of Victoria’s illness to coerce her into agreeing to sign the regency agreement.

Conroy fully understands how politically dangerous this move is, but if Victoria refuses to agree to anything, then his years of effort will turn into nothing once she reaches maturity in a year’s time.

This outcome is something the Grand Steward of Kensington Palace could never accept.

The Duchess of Kent’s brow furrowed slightly, her heart clearly uneasy, her trust still leaning towards this man who had managed Kensington Palace affairs for many years, but today’s scene of Doctor Snow arguing with Conroy in front of her made her feel a vague sense of worry.

She indeed wants the regency, but ultimately, she is also Victoria’s mother.

Seeing her daughter bedridden, while a professional doctor argued fiercely with Conroy over her condition, she must admit, she’s very worried about the potential life-threatening risk to Victoria.

The Duchess of Kent spoke uneasily: "Well... if Doctor Snow’s words aren’t reliable, then shall we follow Leisen’s suggestion and invite Dr. Pulendris, who lives on Nelson Crescent, to take a look? Didn’t everyone at the welcoming ceremony say he is the most skilled doctor in all of Ramsgate?"

"Dr. Pulendris..." Conroy squinted slightly, his fingers gently tapping the neck of the quinine bottle: "Your Highness, are you referring to the local celebrated doctor who was chatting happily with Sir Arthur Hastings, and paid great attention to Leisen at the welcoming ceremony?"