Chapter Two
“We have prisons to keep men like this rogue under our eye. We have to make sure the blaggard does not make a mistake again. Whether you like it or not, my lady, someone has to keep an eye on him.”
Which Bernard was trying not to take personally, but still, it stung.
Where was Hovell? The rogue had promised him he would spring Bernard from the blasted prison days ago, yet he’d been forced to linger in the dank and unpleasant Brighton gaol for eight days.
Eight long days.
“Yes, someone should,” the slender woman by the man in the wig shouted across the court. “Someone without such blatant bias, someone who believes in a person’s ability to change, someone who—”
It wasn’t possible for her to continue with the roar of the crowd overpowering her light and genteel voice, and Bernard could not help but grin. And not because the crowd was full of voluptuous devotees of ‘Bernard Dixon’ and his dastardly deeds.
Was the woman who had the judge’s attention one of them?
He hadn’t noticed her before today. He was sure he would have remembered her.
She was beautiful. Dark-brown hair that had not been curled to the fashions but had instead been left in what appeared to be natural waves, plaited then hastily pinned.
A red, silk-fitted jacket that spoke of wealth, even as the frayed lace at the cuffs spoke of carelessness.
Well, at least this was interesting. Bernard had sat through a number of false court proceedings in his time as a spy for Queen and Country, and this had been far the most interesting. Why, he’d just received a marriage proposal. Bernard Dixon had, anyway.
‘Bernard Dixon,’ honestly. It was the name he had lived under these last four years, but it was exhausting keeping up the pretense.
One more mission, that was what Hovell had said.
Just one more, and Bernard Dixon could disappear on a ‘transportation’ ship, never to be seen again, and he could return to the life he had left behind all those years ago.
The judge didn’t know that. The judge also looks as though he’s going to have a heart attack, Bernard thought lightly as he watched the man’s cheeks turn crimson while he berated the entire gallery into leaving the proceedings, all over a little outburst from one of his devotees.
Bernard thought he’d try just walking out with them, but he was caught easily enough. Oh, well. It was all a bit of fun.
It was nice to have some sort of entertainment before he was thrown into a carriage back to London—
“Release the prisoner.”
Bernard blinked.
No, that wasn’t right. Hovell had been most clear; they would falsify the records, stating that a Mr. Bernard Dixon was sent off to Australia on a transportation ship, and said ship would declare upon arrival that the man had died and been buried at sea.
That had been the deal.
What had not been the deal was the next sentence out of the judge’s mouth, and it sent a shiver down Bernard’s spine he had never expected.
“Release the prisoner into Lady Lucy’s custody.”
No—no. This could not be right.
Bernard looked over once more at the beautiful young woman who had instantly attracted his attention the moment he had stepped—well, been half-dragged—into the courtroom.
She was also young. Innocent, na?ve, clearly, to be standing in a place like this expecting anything that even looked or sounded like justice, and clearly out of her depth.
Wonderful.
A slow smile crept across Bernard’s face. Released into the custody of this ‘Lady Lucy,’ was he? Well, that was delightful. Don’t mind if I do.
To be in the possession of such a woman…and it had been so long since he had even permitted himself to look at a woman, too. Oh, the Bernard Dixon charm had been used to get information out of plenty of women in his time, but he had never lifted a leg or their skirts to do it.
Not that he could do such a thing with this lady, most sadly. Bernard Dixon was prized by Her Majesty—albeit indirectly through his contact, Hovell—for his ability to notice things, to spot the small details and extrapolate to a greater truth.
And it could not have been clearer that this young lady was out of her depth and utterly foolish.
“Thank you, my lady,” the judge was saying grimly from a long way off. “For volunteering.”
This… This was not happening.
Where was his secret release? He could not believe this na?ve if righteous lady was part of the plan. Where was his payoff after enduring so many years as a spy for Her Majesty’s government?
Where was Hovell?
“Look,” Bernard said hastily, “there has been some sort of mistake.”
The bailiff on his right smirked mercilessly. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure there’re many men out there who would like to be in Lady Lucy’s keeping.”
Bernard considered punching the man in the nose, handcuffs or no handcuffs, but realized it was probably a difficult thing to attempt.
Besides, it could hardly win him favors at this point.
I should never have agreed to this last assignment, he thought dismally as murmurs rustled through the court like a cool breeze on a summer morning. He should never have accepted Hovell’s promises that he would be out of here swiftly, and with no need to return back to serving his country.
He’d done enough, hadn’t he?
“But—but—” The woman was spluttering, her eyes wide, and her complete attention fixed on the judge gave Bernard another opportunity to examine her.
She was lovely, that was clear; but now that he had another look, he saw the intelligence in her eyes, sparkling and clear, even a tad furious.
Now that was interesting. When Bernard had first swept his gaze across the court, as he always did, it had been to impress and dazzle, and this Lady Lucy, whoever she was, had taken the brunt of it. It had pleased him to see her flush, not realizing she was here to…
What? Ruin him?
Or save him?
His chest puffed up. Was she an overzealous devotee? Did that mean she liked him, liked ‘Bernard’ at least?
He felt the breath escape his lungs. He couldn’t exactly ravish a woman with the title of ‘lady,’ though, could he?
“I cannot possibly take charge of a man like that!” Lady Lucy was declaiming loudly to anyone who would listen.
A slow smile crept across Bernard’s face. Protesting—and too much.
So the plans had changed, after all, and this was neither one of his courtroom devotees nor an actual lady of Society.
Well, he would not have suggested the idea himself to Hovell, but it was a good one.
Perhaps it would have been too complicated to falsify the records on a transport ship.
Perhaps Hovell had realized there was no possibility of bribing the right men for that task and so had concocted this ridiculous charade with this intriguing woman and the judge.
Of course. Why else had the man emptied the courtroom?
Bernard relaxed into his seat. If that was what it was to be, then that was what it was to be. Certainly not his idea of a clever plan, but just the sort of thing Hovell would have come up with.
The man had never been able to resist a pretty face.
“You cannot think to put a criminal in my custody!” the apparent Lady Lucy was saying hotly, her cheeks pink as she marched toward the judge’s seat. “I-I mean, a man d-driven to-to… Well, I mean, he’s a… a… And I’m a lady!”
Ouch. That was a mite harsh, Bernard thought ruefully. It was a good thing he wasn’t a criminal, and that he knew full well she was only pretending to be outraged by the judge’s suggestion.
Otherwise, he might have found his feelings somewhat dented.
Still, he was not paid for putting together the plans. Just enacting them.
Time to act.
“And I refuse to be put in this woman’s custody!” Bernard said in a clear, outraged tone.
The bailiffs and solicitors remaining in the courtroom stilled, all present save for Lady Lucy herself—and if she had been a real lady, Bernard would have eaten his boot. The idea of a lady, a daughter of nobility, stepping into a courtroom like this and playing the fool!
“You refuse?” Lady Lucy repeated, her eyebrows rising in evident astonishment. At least, astonishment for the any of the bailiffs or solicitors not in on the plan. The spectators must have their sport. “What mean you by that, sir?”
Honestly, he would have to speak to Hovell about the actresses he was finding.
“Merely that I have no wish to be cast aside by the justice system just when I was about to prove myself innocent!” Bernard retorted, doing his best to look mortally wounded, letting out a gasp as he shook his head slowly.
“It is a disparage to my name, to my conscience, to my reputation!”
“I cannot have a man in my keeping. What on earth would I do with him?” Lady Lucy hissed to the judge, just loud enough for Bernard to hear.
A slow smile crept across his lips. Oh, he knew what he’d like to do with this ‘Lady Lucy’ when they got out of this courtroom. If she was indeed an actress, as he supposed, then she would surely not be immune to his charms nor unreceptive to his overtures.
It had been a long time since he had found himself in the embrace of a lady…
“You can do with him what you wilt, my lady,” Judge Bonner was saying, and even Bernard had to admit he was impressed at how well the man was acting.
“Perhaps next time you appear in my courtroom gallery, should you ever appear again, it will be with a chaperone, and you will stay humble and meek, as a lady ought.”
With spittle flying out of his mouth, the older man truly looked furious at having to deal with Lady Lucy. Impressive.
“And now, if you wouldn’t mind exiting my courtroom, I have a few hundred other cases to deal with,” the judge continued in a voice clearly immediately bored by the whole proceedings. “Bailiffs, if you would do the honors?”
“But I can’t—what will people say? What shall I do with him? I cannot put him in a pocket and forget about him,” protested Lady Lucy, wringing her hands in a most clever affection of a woman in genuine confusion and distress. “No! No, you cannot!”