Chapter 1 #3
He flipped it open and held it near the lamp. There that name was, buried amidst a casual communication. You can expect to be asked to be prosecutor for a Hadrian Belvoir, once his case is brought forward. It would please us if you accepted.
He checked the date. This had been written a month ago.
No wonder the name had not been in the front of his memory.
If Mr. Belvoir resided in Newgate Prison, why had this informal approach not turned into a formal one by now?
It was possible his victims had hired their own prosecutor, of course, but if that were likely, these sentences would never have been written.
It would please us if you accepted. Considering who had written this, it went without saying that acceptance was assumed, and would indeed be given.
He would have to inform Miss Belvoir that she must look elsewhere.
He returned to the office and the bright-eyed Miss Belvoir.
He had realized, while she talked and talked, that her eyes sparkled even when she did not cry.
He had also calculated that if she stood, she would be willowy and long limbed.
An idle curiosity had crossed his mind, about what it was like to take a woman who was a good match for his own height.
His mind had pictured it, making the necessary adjustments . . .
No sooner had he walked into the chamber than she began speaking. “I think you can see that a great injustice will occur if my father does not receive your help, sir. I beg you to consider accepting his case. I am prepared to pay you whatever fees you require.”
Not likely, from the looks of that dress and spencer. “Miss Belvoir, allow me to explain that no barrister will accept financial remuneration from you for defending in this matter.”
She went still. Her lips parted in surprise. He felt bad that his refusal shocked her, but there was nothing else for it.
She looked up at him, confused. “Are you saying you will do it for free?”
“I am saying that barristers do not get paid by clients; they are engaged by solicitors who take care of such things. Barristers will be insulted if you offer to pay them like they are tradesmen.”
“So I must first find a solicitor and have him ask you. Instead of one lawyer I must hire two.”
“You must find a solicitor to investigate, but I will not be the barrister he engages to argue the case in the courtroom. I cannot be the defending lawyer. When you mentioned your father’s name, I realized I have already been approached to serve on the other side.”
“Other side?”
“Prosecutor.”
She absorbed that. Her full, deep rose lips mouthed the word.
She stood, which brought her close to him.
Her crown reached his nose. Yes, she was unusually tall.
The scents of Newgate no longer cloaked her.
Rather that of lavender wafted subtly, as if by force of will she had conquered the ill effects of the day.
Since the glint in her eyes no longer came from tears, he guessed she had, in many ways.
She strolled away, thinking. She moved with notable elegance and a subtle sway. She wore her unusual stature the way a queen might wear a crown.
She turned and faced him. He pictured her in a white diaphanous gown that flowed down her long body, one bound under and around her breasts in imitation of the ancient deities.
Only, from the expression she now wore, she might also wear a helmet and shield, like Athena, goddess of both wisdom and war.
“This is awkward,” she said. “However, it is not without value to speak with you.”
“Since I have not even seen the brief, there is nothing to learn from me.”
“It is always useful to meet one’s adversary. Had I not made the error in coming here, I doubt I would have had the chance. I would have arrived at the trial, with you a total stranger.”
“I am not your adversary, Miss Belvoir. You are not the one who will be on trial.”
“We will have opposite goals, so I think the word is accurate.”
“I am sure you will find a worthy lawyer to take up this case for you, as you intended.”
“Having met you, I am not sure I will find one worthy enough. I dare not leave it all in another’s hands now.”
Her gaze penetrated him. He had the sense of his soul being searched by an intelligence as sharp as any he had ever met.
Whatever she found, it lightened her expression.
Softened her. The unusual beauty that had drawn him into this chamber became much more visible.
The sparkles in her eyes implied humorous conclusions.
He knew what she had seen. An acknowledgment of it passed between them in an instant of naked honesty. Hell, yes, she was sharp. He had been nothing but restrained. A bishop could not have hidden his sensual speculations better, but she had still sensed them in him.
She turned those eyes on him fully. Ives recognized the expression of someone about to offer a bribe. A few had come his way in the past. He waited for hers.
Resolve flickered. Boldness flashed. Then, in the next moment, both died.
“I am sorry to have taken your time, and at an unsuitable hour at that. I will leave you to your evening.” She walked toward the door.
“I will find out about the charges,” he said. “That way you will know what he faces, at least. Leave your address with my man, and I will make sure you are informed.”
She turned. “Thank you. That is very kind, coming from someone I must now see as an enemy.”
“I am only an enemy if the truth is, as well.”
That amused her. “Noble words to soothe the helpless woman’s fears, sir? That is generous of you. However, truth depends on the equation, too, doesn’t it? Different variables yield different solutions.”