Chapter Seventeen
Chapter
SEVENTEEN
“Just get in the damned carriage, Abigail!” Leo was so angry and disappointed, and so bloody terrified he could barely think straight.
“You can say your piece once I have sorted out your latest bloody mess and not before!” He slammed the door behind her and sent the driver on his way because at least that was one problem dealt with.
Now all he had to do was sort out Portia before any of the scoundrels she was still incarcerated with did anything further to hurt her—which he was convinced they would if he didn’t get her out of there fast.
He stalked back into the jail to find Nolley, who was enjoying lording it over him in petty revenge for all the times Leo had thwarted him from trying to bend the law to suit his own ends.
He found him manhandling a group of shackled prisoners toward one of the back rooms where his fellow magistrates were holding the emergency sessions with more aggression than the task deserved. “We need to talk.”
“Not if it’s about that woman on your payroll, we don’t.” Nolley disappeared into the makeshift courtroom, forcing Leo to pace outside it until he reappeared alone.
“I am sure this is all a mistake. A classic case of someone being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Miss Kendall is a chaperone, not an insurrectionist.” Or at least he hoped she was at this stage. After the bizarre night he’d had so far, nothing seemed out of the realm of the impossible.
Nolley had the nerve to roll his eyes. “As I’ve already explained to you, your grace, Miss Kendall was caught red-handed in possession of a seditious banner and then tried to resist arrest. She is not your kin, nor is she related to anyone of any import, so does not qualify for any special dispensation on any grounds.
She is being charged for her crimes and that is that. ”
That was clearly his next battle and if the constable was determined to be unreasonable, Leo would have to have it with someone else.
But, he needed to ensure that Portia was safe before he spiraled into an illogical, ranting mess who would be no use to anyone.
“But she is a woman alone in a cell full of men, Constable Nolley, and I must insist that she be held in a separate place as it is dangerous for her in there.”
“We’ve arrested nearly fifty rioters so far and they are still coming in, so we’ve nowhere else to put her. Once she’s been charged, I’m sure they’ll move her somewhere more appropriate.”
“And if something inappropriate happens to her while we wait?” Because that didn’t bear thinking about. “Surely you don’t want that on your conscience?”
“She should have thought of that before she decided to spread sedition, your grace. And frankly, you should focus on getting your own house in order rather than criticize this one.”
“She is a woman on her own in a cell full of randy men! One of whom we both witnessed drooling over her before he assaulted her!” A sight that had made Leo’s hair literally stand on end.
The constable’s face contorted into an ugly snarl. “To my mind, that slanderous bitch deserves whatever she’s got coming! But I’m not the one shagging her.”
Leo’s temper snapped then and he slammed Nolley against the wall.
“Watch your dirty mouth!” He resisted the overwhelming temptation to allow the red mist of panic to blind him so that he could pummel the constable to a pulp and settled for growling in his face for Portia’s sake.
“I do not care how you do it—but get her out of there now! That is an order!”
The insufferable man simply stuck out his chin.
“I am not sure that you can give me an order pertaining to any detainee when you have a personal interest in their case, your grace. Is it not custom for a magistrate whose objectivity might be compromised to step aside in such cases? Or do you expect us to make an exception to your usually rigid legal principles this evening just because it suits you?”
The bastard had him there, so Leo stalked into the chamber, not caring that he was interrupting the magistrates in session because he urgently needed their help. Unfortunately, rather than find at least one friendly face, he was confronted by the entire hang ’em and flog ’em brigade.
“Debden?” It was Lord Corston who spotted him first. “Have you finally come to join the fun?” Because of course the arrogant fool was relishing in his power tonight just as Nolley was.
“I have a problem.” There was no point beating about the bush when every minute Portia remained in that cell she was in grave danger. “One that I need to discuss with the bench urgently.”
“But I thought we sorted your problem.” Corston tapped his nose and winked in the most unsubtle manner, without a care for the poor souls in the dock who weren’t lucky enough to be related to a duke.
“I’m afraid that I have another.” For the first time in his life, Leo had to abandon all his rigid principles to ride roughshod over the law. “And it is pressing.”
Constable Nolley came to personally collect Portia from the cell and seemed to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in manhandling her through the prison corridors.
All the while trying to goad her into anger, no doubt as a way to give him an excuse to be more violent toward her.
“It’ll take more than your doting duke to get you off this charge, whore—it’ll take a miracle!
” His breath was hot and rancid against her cheek; his nails digging into her upper arms like talons.
“He might be blinded by your wiles, but I’m not!
Nor will the other justices be. They’ll all know a wrong’un when they meet one.
Especially when they see all the evidence we have against you.
That’ll teach you to accuse me of being corrupt! ”
She wanted to speak up and fight back with every sinew of her body, but knew that was precisely what he wanted, and clamped her jaws shut.
The constable had recognized her from the second she had been brought to the jail, just as he had recognized Lady Abigail, and he clearly had an axe to grind.
One that he was unlikely to be able to grind with a duke’s sister.
With Abigail already released, Portia knew that she was Nolley’s only hope at getting some petty revenge against Leo.
Only when they reached the closed door of their destination did the constable stop goading her.
By the time the clerk opened the door, he looked every inch the calm, but put upon, law enforcer rather than the spiteful bully that he had been since her arrest.
Portia was led to stand in front of a long table where three magistrates were seated. She knew that they were magistrates because one of them was the odious Lord Corston, but it was another who spoke first.
“State your name for the record.”
“Portia Elizabeth Kendall.” She thought she could sense the duke behind her but did not turn to confirm it because Nolley was watching her like a hawk for any confirmation that she was indeed his mistress as he had repeatedly accused her of being.
“On what charge is this woman brought before this bench?”
“Charges, my lord,” corrected the constable, “for there are several.”
The sour-faced magistrate nodded in acknowledgment and Nolley continued.
“This prisoner is charged with attending the seditious meeting that took place on the High Street here in Bath in direct contradiction of the Seditious Meetings Act of 1819. As a consequence of her actions during this meeting, she is also charged with breaking the peace and resisting arrest.”
“Do you have witnesses to these offenses, constable?”
“The militiaman responsible for arresting her at the scene has provided a statement and has offered to bear witness at any criminal trial, my lord.” Nolley handed several pieces of paper to the clerk.
“Two other witness statements attest that they saw the prisoner at the meeting. All of them saw her violently resisting arrest.” He paused while the magistrates scanned the statements.
“Furthermore, she is charged with composing and publishing seditious libel in accordance with the Blasphemous and Seditious Libels Act of 1819.” Before he was asked for it, he opened Lady Abigail’s hand-painted placard so that they could all see the damning words daubed across it.
Every single magistrate frowned as the clerk delivered BATH—THE CITY OF CROOKED COURTS AND CORRUPT CONSTABLES! to the bench.
Lord Corston seemed particularly aggrieved by it. “Did you write those words, Miss Kendall?”
“I did not, my lord.”
“She’s got black ink stains all over her fingers that say different and she certainly held those words aloft,” said the constable lying through his yellowed teeth. “I personally witnessed her doing so.”
“Ah…” Lord Corston’s eyes shot to the back of the room before Portia could argue. “That complicates things, I’m afraid.”
“This is the prisoner’s first offense.” Leo’s confident and commanding voice gave her some hope that she wasn’t doomed to swing for a crime she did not commit. “And I have already personally vouched for her good character.”
“That may be so, but she has called into question the good characters of everyone here present with that seditious placard, and that egregious insult cannot be ignored.” Lord Corston had decided to take great umbrage that anyone would call his good name into question, which was irony in its purest form as there was nothing good in him.
“How do you plead to these charges, Miss Kendall?”