Always Have Hope (Emerson Book 3) (16 page)

“I do not know what to think about Mr. Lewis. His reputation
as a barrister is excellent – too good, considering we’re on opposite sides in
this case. But I believe him to be an honorable man. Had he wanted to use
last night against Win, he could have already sent her back to Newgate. He
didn’t mention either of you to the Bow Street officers when they showed up
last night. Even more promisingly, he threatened me.”

Rose’s eyes widened. She was so expressive. Nate
wondered how she’d look beneath him in bed. Especially the first time he slid
into her….

“What did he say?”

Nate blinked. “What did who say?”

“Mr. Lewis! What did he say to threaten you?”

“He wanted to make certain my intentions toward you are
honorable. Your good Mr. Stemple is the second man in less than eight hours to
threaten me in case I had any designs on you.”

“And, do you?”

Nate searched her face. The girl had sounded almost
hopeful. He’d come close to kissing her in the Lynwood garden the previous
night, but hadn’t. He didn’t need anyone to threaten him to be honorable. His
inconvenient conscience did a damnably good enough job all on its own.

She took a deep breath as if to steady herself. “I
would like you to kiss me.”

He couldn’t have heard that correctly.

“I want you to kiss me.” She repeated, as she raised
her chin in resolve, though it seemed to tremble just a bit. “I am almost
nineteen years old and have never had a real kiss.”

“Good! I see Colin has been doing his job. And I
daresay Mr. Stemple will keep other interlopers at bay. Was it my imagination
or was he purposely showing his scarred side as a means of intimidation? I
imagine he’d be gravely disappointed to learn it only made me admire him more,
given the reminders of his wartime bravery. And, no, I will not kiss you.”

Though he surely wanted to. But if he kissed her, he
wouldn’t be able to stop. Then Mr. Stemple would make his best attempt to kill
him.

And he’d deserve it.

“You should save your kisses for your husband.” The
lucky bastard.

She laughed humorlessly. “And where shall I find one
of those? You know there is no money for my come-out. And there’s certainly
no one at home I would like to marry.”

“I should say not! No one there is good enough for
you. But now that Colin is married and James soon will be, as well, I expect
you’ll meet eligible men through them.” And the thought well and truly grated
on his nerves.

“I have no dowry.”

“You don’t need one. Any man would be lucky to have
you as his bride.” He hadn’t quite meant to say that, but he also couldn’t let
her think she needed a dowry to find a husband. The very notion was ridiculous.

Now she was walking toward him. He should back away,
but then he’d be further away from her. And he only wanted to be closer.

“Then kiss me. I am tired of waiting.” She looked
like she was gathering her courage. “Touch me.”

He was standing stock still, but the minx wouldn’t
retreat. She carefully put her arms around his neck, then stood on tiptoes.
They weren’t touching anywhere except at his neck, and she seemed to be teetering
just a bit. So he snaked his left arm around her waist to steady her – he
couldn’t let her fall and break her neck. Even the bulldog butler couldn’t
object to protecting her from that. Nate put his right hand on her cheek. It
was so soft.

He looked at her lips, so pink and inviting. And to
ease any neck strain she might be feeling, he lowered his lips to hers, which
were nervously pressed together.

“Open, sweetheart,” he said, then touched his tongue
to the seam.

She opened them on a gasp and he took merciless
advantage, taking her mouth in a slow, intense kiss.

He’d had his share of fantasies about Rose in the few
months since he’d seen her briefly at Christmas. Most had been of taking her
in his large bed at the castle. Then in the bathing tub, against the wall, in
a field during spring, in the lake on a summer’s day, on a boat looking up at
the stars. Basically, his fantasies involved making love to Rose in various
positions in any number of locales.

But his fertile imagination had never come up with a
scenario as alluring as this kiss. She was melting into him, following his
lead and blazing her own trail at the same time. He’d never known a kiss could
be this passionate before. He’d always thought of kissing as a brief prelude
to the really fun activities.

If he was enjoying the kiss this much, what would happen
when they made love?

With great effort, he pulled away. Then he made the
mistake of looking down at her. She was still caught up in the throes of
passion. Her eyes were closed, her lips were swollen and slightly parted.
When Stemple saw her, Nate would be a dead man.

But it would be worth it.

He gently moved away, then Rose slowly opened her
eyes. She blinked. Then blinked again.

“How was your first kiss?” Nate asked, trying hard for
a casual tone when he was almost desperate to know if it had affected her the
way it had affected him.

“My what?” whispered Rose, even as she looked like she
was about to lean into him again.

And God knew he wouldn’t have the strength to pull
away twice.

“Your first kiss,” he said, as he carefully made his
away to the other side of the room for safety.

“Oh….that,” she said, still a little off balance,
though she was no longer on tiptoe. “It was….adequate, I suppose.”

“Adequate!” he said. “That could hardly be called
only adequate!”

“Oh, really, Nate? Then how would you describe it?”

“I would describe it as….” He was about to start with
“sublime,” and continue onward from there, when he noticed her wicked smile.
So she was playing with him, was she? He should pull her back to him and let
her know how he really felt about that kiss. “Do you often play with fire,
Thorn?”

“Only when I feel the need for warmth,” she said.

That was it. He was going to take her in his arms…

The door opened and the blasted Stemple walked in,
followed by his wife. Stemple had evidently expected to find them in an
embrace, for he looked almost disappointed to find them standing so far apart.

But Mrs. Stemple picked up on their previous activity
quicker than her husband, for she handed Rose a handkerchief with a motion to
cover her swollen lips. Stemple turned around just in time to see Rose pretend
to dab her eyes, while covering her lips.

That was quick thinking on Mrs. Stemple’s part, who
had her own swollen lips. Apparently, the couple had made good use of their
time alone.

“Did you make Lady Rose cry?” Stemple asked Nate
menacingly.

“No,” said Rose, still pretending to dab her eyes. “I
am just so distraught over Win.”

Stemple looked like he didn’t quite believe that and
yearned to strike Nate just for good measure. Fortunately, his wife interceded
once again.

“Perhaps we should take our leave and return to
Lynwood House before anyone misses us. Good day, my lord,” she said as she
curtsied, then took her husband’s hand.

Stemple bowed slightly, while continuing to glower
menacingly. “Remember my warning, my lord.”

“I could hardly forget it, could I? Good day, Mr. and
Mrs. Stemple. And I shall see you later today, Lady Rose, as I speak to your
brothers.”

“About what?” she squeaked.

“About your sister’s defense.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she said.

She had little opportunity to linger, as Stemple
ushered both ladies from the room posthaste.

Nate breathed a sigh of relief as temptation incarnate
left his room. Life was becoming more and more complicated. And how would he
ever forget about the kiss from the woman he could not marry?

Alex
stood outside St. Paul’s cathedral and said a quick prayer. The church was but
a few hundred yards from Newgate prison. Some might say it was the literal
pairing of sinners and saints, though Alex was too cynical to believe in the
existence of saints. However, he’d seen enough sinners in his career to last a
lifetime.

His
destination today wasn’t the prison, but the nearby Old Bailey, the criminal courts
building. He studied it now, as he thought about the challenge he was facing.
The grey stone building was meant to be intimidating. The brick barricade in
front was designed to keep unruly citizens from storming the court, as had been
done from time to time throughout history.

If
the exterior of the building was a testament to the need to protect the
proceedings from the unruly lower classes, the interior was a salute to the
wealth of the peerage. There was only one large courtroom in the building,
though there were plans to add another in the next year or two. Four brass
chandeliers provided light from high above while the barristers argued from elegant
mahogany tables.

But
the true opulence was reserved for the rooms not frequented by the public.
Judges had lavishly decorated offices and the Lord Mayor’s dining room was
rumored to serve meals rivaling the finest restaurants in town. They were
reminders to Alex that while the Crown and its judicial servants were supposed
to work for the interests of all people, peers still believed they were class
apart.

Alex
hadn’t expected to make an appearance at the Old Bailey that day. Upon
returning home from Pierce’s house in the middle of the night, he’d found a
summons to appear in court only a few hours later. The reason for the summons
shocked Alex. Peyton was trying to get Win remanded once again to Newgate.

At
first, Alex had panicked, worried that someone had seen Win at her house. But
then he noticed the date on the summons – the previous morning. Peyton
couldn’t have known about her visit when he’d drafted the writ because it
hadn’t yet occurred. Of course, that didn’t mean Win hadn’t broken the terms
of her release that day as well. Mayhap she hadn’t told him about an earlier
indiscretion. He shuddered to think of the risks she might have taken.

Of
course, there was no excuse given for the delay in delivering the summons. No
doubt Peyton simply wanted to catch him unprepared. Nor was there an
explanation for why the lady’s own barrister wanted her sent to prison.

Early
that morning, Alex had paid a street sweeper to deliver messages to Lynwood
House and to Olson. Win’s presence at the Old Bailey wouldn’t be required for
the hearing. But he wanted her brothers there to study the courtroom to see if
they could learn who was behind the conspiracy. He’d be too busy trying to
convince the Lord Chief Justice to allow Win to remain at Lynwood House.

Alex
had to find a way to block the move without making it seem like he was no
longer working in the Crown’s best interests. If they removed him from the
case, another barrister would be appointed in his place. And that one would try
to convict her.

After
making his way through the narrow entrance of the building, Alex made his way
to the courtroom. He was wearing his silk robe and wig, acting the role of a
confident barrister, when in this case he was anything but.

There
would be no jury for the proceedings, only the Lord Chief Justice who’d decide
whether Win would be remanded to gaol or remain at Lynwood House. Above and
behind the empty jury box was a gallery for visitors. He looked for Win’s
brothers, but they were not yet there.

Alex
unpacked his valise. He’d spent a few hours searching for precedent regarding
the remanding of defendants, but hadn’t found a single case where the prosecutor
would object to such a motion. He prayed Peyton would inadvertently give him
something to work off. Normally, the odds were fairly good that such a thing
would happen. But in this case, the stakes were so high that Alex couldn’t
count on it.

Alex
was at his table when Peyton – wearing a brand new wig that must have cost a
year’s salary – approached, with Olson in tow. Peyton was smug while Olson
looked worried.

That
made Alex worry even more.

“So,
quite a spot of trouble you’re in, Lewis, isn’t it?” Peyton asked.

“I
cannot imagine what you mean,” said Alex coolly, though panic gripped him. Did
they know about his involvement with Lady Win at the house? If that were the case,
they wouldn’t just be throwing her in gaol. They might send him there, as
well. Though, if given the choice, he’d gladly take her place.

Peyton
continued to gloat. “A ho! I have one up on you then. See, I’m going to
argue for Lady Win to be remanded to Newgate and you can’t very well argue
against that, can you? That would smack too much of pandering to the
murderess’s family. You could be disbarred. In fact, I’d insist on it.”

And
Peyton would probably get his way. “First of all, Peyton, I don’t think you
should be referring to your client as a murderess. Your job, after all, is to
assert the lady’s innocence. A slip like that could get you disbarred, as
well.” Alex had the slight satisfaction of seeing Peyton blink. “Second, why
is it, exactly, that you’re trying to get her remanded to custody?”

“For
her own protection, of course. Who knows what might happen to her without the
protection of Bow Street?”

Alex
stiffened, as did Olson.

“Has
someone threatened Lady Win?”

Peyton
looked confused. Not an unusual state for the man, but it showed that if a
conspiracy to harm Win was afoot, Peyton was unaware of it.

“I
don’t know,” said the simpleton. “I was just told to say that.”

“By
whom?’

Now
Peyton lost all color in his face. “I cannot recall. All I know is if you
object to my motion, you’ll be disbarred.”

Peyton
turned and with a whip of his robe, which also looked new, he returned to his
table where he sat and stared blankly into space.

“What
are you going to do?” Olson asked Alex.

“I
must object,” said Alex. “I cannot have her sent back to Newgate.”

“He’s
serious. You’ll be disbarred.”

Alex
knew his law career might end that day. But he had no choice. He shrugged.
“I must keep her out of that hellhole.”

Olson
stared at him appraisingly, then nodded. “Good luck,” he said, before going to
the visitors’ gallery.

Win
wasn’t there, fortunately, but her brothers were, as well as the Duke of
Lynwood. Olson was talking to them. As Alex watched, the duke looked at him
for a moment, before turning his attention back to the solicitor.

The
clerk announced the arrival of the Lord Chief Justice. It was the Honorable
Joseph Harris, the third son of a viscount. He was intelligent and fairly knowledgeable
of the law. He’d be well aware of how uncommon it’d be to remand a female to
Newgate, but Alex didn’t know if Harris was part of the conspiracy to convict
Win. Harris’s greatest weakness was his inflated sense of self-importance. The
man didn’t think he was a judge. He believed he was God.

Everyone
rose, then bowed before Harris took his seat.

Alex
noted that Sir Wilfred was seated at a table with Clive Pierce and Horace
Warren, as well as two gentlemen Alex didn’t recognize.

Peyton
rose. “My learned Lord Chief Justice. I come before you today with a humble request.
I would like Mrs. Winifred Pierce remanded to state custody at Newgate prison.”

Harris
turned his attention to Peyton. “I am confused, Mr. Peyton. Are you not Mrs.
Pierce’s barrister?”

“I
am, my lord. And it is on her behalf that I make this request.”

Alex
turned to the gallery. Lord Ridgeway’s jaw was clenched so hard it must have
ached. Lord Layton was rigid with anger and Lord James looked like he was
barely restraining himself from thrashing Peyton.

Peyton
deserved to be thrashed. Even if he wasn’t complicit in whatever conspiracy
was trying to convict Win, at least he should have enough honor to object to
such horrid treatment of her. She would likely die in prison. But not if Alex
could help it.

Harris
reviewed the brief in front of him. “I must confess my surprise, Mr. Peyton.
I cannot imagine the lady herself would like to return to Newgate.”

“My
Lord Chief Justice, ladies rarely know what is good for them. She’d be a good
deal safer in Newgate than she would be remaining at the Duke of Lynwood’s
home. Mob violence is not so unheard of that it is beyond the realm of
possibility that one might storm the house and murder her in her bed.”

Alex
rose. “My Lord Chief Justice?”

“Mr.
Lewis.”

“Does
my colleague have intelligence of such a threat to Mrs. Pierce’s life?”

Given
Peyton’s smirk, that was the opening he’d awaited. “Is my colleague saying he
is concerned about Mrs. Pierce’s safety? Forgive me for asking, but isn’t it
his job to get the woman hanged? Yet he’s afraid she’ll be jostled about by a
crowd.”

“If
Mr. Peyton believes she’ll only be jostled about, I have to wonder why he feels
the protection of Newgate is necessary,” said Alex.

That
stopped Peyton for a moment. He frowned a bit, then looked over to where Sir
Wilfred was seated. Sir Wilfred returned his regard with a stony stare.

Peyton
finally found his voice. “Surely the Crown cannot object to Mrs. Pierce’s
incarceration. It was, after all, where she was originally remanded before the
Duke of Lynwood took it upon himself to have her removed.”

The
Duke of Lynwood. That gave Alex an idea.

“I
object to the insult you have levied against his grace.”

That
surprised Peyton. “What insult?”

“The
allegation that he cannot keep his guest safe. And since this mob violence you
foresee would likely not focus solely upon Mrs. Pierce, I would go so far as to
infer you don’t believe the Duke of Lynwood is capable of keeping his family
safe. The duchess, his brothers and their wives. His niece and nephews. I
believe you have insulted him to the extent where he’d be well within his
rights to call you out – were dueling not outlawed, of course. As a barrister
for the Crown, I cannot allow you to insult one of the country’s most
influential peers.”

Alex’s
strategy was a good one. Peyton stood there, pale as parchment, wide-eyed and
with his mouth opening and shutting wordlessly whilst his mind frantically
searched for a way out of the hole he’d dug, then pushed himself into. Peyton,
who had such grand plans for an alliance with the Duke of Lynwood, looked like he
was in danger of becoming sick in front of him.

Alex
was about to sigh in relief when Sir Wilfred rose.

“My
Lord Chief Justice, if I may?” Sir Wilfred bowed to the court. It was highly
irregular for him to address the court since he was not counsel of record, but
he continued onward. “The issue is not his grace. I am quite certain he is
more than capable of keeping his duchess and the others safe. But I cannot
like the idea of a murderess sharing a roof with her grace and innocent
children. We must return her to Newgate. It is the right thing to do.”

“When
you put it that way,” said Harris, “I suppose we have no choice but to…”

“Do
I not have a say in the matter?” asked the Duke of Lynwood from his seat in the
gallery. He hadn’t raised his voice, but he had no trouble being heard. He
was impeccably attired in a dark blue tailored jacket and looked rather bored
by the proceedings.

Harris
nodded to the duke. “Yes, your grace. You may speak.”

Lynwood
remained seated, which Alex found interesting. Addressing the court without
rising was an egregious lapse in manners. Then the duke did something even
more shocking.

“Send
Lady Winifred back to Newgate,” he said.

Alex
couldn’t believe it. He knew of Lynwood’s reputation, the bills he’d
championed in the House of Lords on behalf of women. It was inconceivable that
he’d turn Win over to Newgate.

And
that’s when Alex realized something was afoot.

For
his part, Peyton looked greatly relieved that the duke wouldn’t be calling him
out any time soon.

“Your
grace,” said Alex. “If you have something to say, I suggest you step into the
box.” Witnesses before the court stood in the box near the Lord Chief Justice.

“No.”

“Pardon
me?” asked Alex.

“I
shouldn’t have to stand in the box. I am, after all, a duke.”

“Yes,
but you are in the honorable Lord Chief Justice’s court.” Alex turned to see
Harris eyeing Lynwood with interest.

With
great reluctance, the duke walked languidly to the box, then made a great show
of taking out his handkerchief and wiping down the railing. He then threw it
to a clerk. “Launder that and have it sent back to me.”

“Your
grace!” said Alex. “I will remind you this is a court of law and you must
abide by its rules and customs.”