Chapter Sixteen #2
A shifty-looking fellow instantly glared at the word “magistrate,” but her companion seemed oblivious that was a dirty word in a prison. Before the spoiled fool got them both beaten, Portia jabbed her in the ribs and hissed. “Keep your voice down, Abigail, and for pity’s sake, watch what you say!”
The duke’s troublesome sister bristled. “Who are you to speak to me like that?”
That entitled outburst was the last straw.
“Who am I? Only the person who risked life and limb to try and extricate you from that protest before the army rampaged in. The person who was arrested alongside you because you refused to leave when I begged you to! I am also the person who might well end up with a criminal record because of your misguided stupidity! Which could well mean, that thanks entirely to you, I could be unemployable as your lot tend not to look favorably on someone who has had a brush with the law, no matter whose fault it actually was.” Portia jabbed her finger between them.
“I am also, currently, the only person in this putrid cell who has a modicum of sympathy for you—although I have to warn you that that is presently wearing very thin—and I am the only thing standing between you and real physical harm. Or did it not occur to you that some of these men in here might have an axe to grind with your brother, you self-indulgent, selfish, and stupid idiot!”
Lady Abigail recoiled as if she had been slapped.
“I … I…” Finally, she dropped her voice to a whisper.
“I was just trying to stand up for what was right.” Her bottom lip quivered and that only irritated Portia more.
“I thought you of all people would appreciate that—especially as Matthew Reynolds is one of us.”
“Then do the rest of us a favor and get your facts straight before you go on a half-cocked and dangerous crusade, Abigail! Matthew Reynolds isn’t innocent.
He isn’t some martyr to the cause. He is a reckless, ambitious, and dangerous firebrand.
A loose cannon who was never ‘one of us’ really.
” Portia checked around her for any eavesdroppers before she lent to whisper in her misguided cellmate’s ear.
“He never did anything for Equitas beyond bring trouble to its door. Nobody at the newspaper had seen hide nor hair of him in months because he was too busy raising his own little band of ruffians to wreak havoc with. Havoc, I might add that was never sanctioned by anyone in the reform movement except himself.” Then, because someone had to say it, she added, “Your brother was right about everything he said about the man. Nobody lied. He’s not on trial on trumped-up charges.
He threatened to murder a bound man shivering in his underwear in cold blood and, as far as I and the rest of us are concerned, he jolly deserves whatever punishment they give him!
And I cannot believe that Percy, who I thought was sensible, was stupid enough to have told you any different! ”
The silence hung for several seconds while Abigail digested that, then in a small voice she said. “Percy didn’t. I haven’t seen him since you caught us together the other day.”
“Then who did?”
“I received a letter from a friend in London.”
“Did it not occur to you to corroborate that unreliable hearsay from two hundred miles away with anyone here in Bath who might just know the actual facts? Oh wait—you did.” Sarcasm dripped from Portia’s lips.
“You asked your brother and then called him an idiot because he told you the unpalatable truth.” She let every bit of her disgust show as she shook her head.
“If anyone is the fool in this instance, it is you, Abigail, not Leo. But all of a sudden, I cannot help but noticing that your brother isn’t the enemy anymore because you need his help, which I daresay makes you a hypocrite too, doesn’t it?
Because you are apparently only a crusading reformer when it suits you to be, but an entitled aristocrat who deserves to be above the law when it doesn’t! ”
The younger woman blanched. “I do not think that I am above the law, Miss Kendall, I just assumed…” Abigail sighed her contrition and finally had the decency to look thoroughly ashamed of herself.
“You are right. I am scared and I am panicking but that is no excuse for assuming that I should get special dispensation for my foolhardy actions simply because of who my brother is.”
“And yet the irony is that you doubtless will just as soon as he gets here. Privilege of Peerage is only supposed to cover members who serve in Parliament, yet, with a nod and wink, few blue bloods ever stand trial. No matter how heinous their offense, so take comfort in that.”
Portia had meant that to ease Abigail’s mind, but instead it made her frown. “That is very wrong, isn’t it? The law should apply to everyone with an even hand without prejudice.”
“It should—but it doesn’t.” As Portia was presently only too aware. She did not possess any blue-blooded or well-connected relatives who could make this disappear. And if they managed to link her to Equitas, she was done for.
“LADY ABIGAIL SLOANE!” As the prison guard approached the bars with rattling keys and a lantern, all the inmates rushed to the front of the cell shouting abuse. “SHOW YOURSELF, WOMAN!”
The angry crowd booed and leered as Portia and Abigail scrambled to their feet.
As they tried to push their way through, they were helped on their way by several pairs of unsubtly groping hands.
One pair snaked around Portia’s waist and dragged her back unceremoniously against a smelly inmate’s crotch.
“Leaving so soon, darlin’? I was so hoping we could get better acquainted before you left.”
She brought the heel of her boot down hard on the groper’s foot and broke free just in time for him to respond with a growl and a violent push.
One that forced her hard against the bars.
As she struggled to get her breath, she found herself staring directly into a familiar pair of utterly stunned blue eyes on the other side.