“No, Mummy. I’ll be the best boy so Father will always love me. I promise…”
* * * *
Her father had indeed cared for her, Laurence reflected, snuffing out the candle on her bedside table and climbing beneath the covers. Although Edward Heath was married and had another family, he had paid for the comfortable house in Hans Town where she and her mother, Nell, had lived all those years, wanting for nothing. There had been servants and a carriage, good food and fine clothing.
After the incident with Freddie, Laurence’s mother had made sure to keep her away from other children. She had been tutored at home until it was time to go off to boarding school, which was also paid for by her father. By then Laurence had known the truth and understood the urgency of keeping her sex a secret from her father and the world. For Edward Heath already had seven daughters with his wife, and another girl would have held no interest for him, particularly a bastard. By seeming to have produced the much-longed-for son, Nell Cooper had secured a future for herself and her child.
“Be a good boy, Laurence, and your father will always love you…”
Laurence excelled at school, earning a place at Cambridge, where she studied history and law, graduating with top honors to her father’s great delight.
After leaving university, she went to work at Heath & Heath as an apprentice, introduced to the other members of the firm as Edward’s nephew. She started out with contracts and wills before moving into more complex work under the tutelage of the more experienced solicitors. Laurence possessed both an even temperament and a superior instinct for getting to the heart of any legal matter, and as her reputation for successfully managing even the toughest cases grew, her services were increasingly in demand from some of the City’s most powerful men.
“You’ve done the family proud, my boy,” Edward said with satisfaction after Lord Mersey had written a letter praising her work on a business transaction that had been especially difficult. “You have a brilliant future ahead of you. Your grandfather’s firm will be yours one day. Of that I have no doubt.”
“I am honored, sir,” she said, her genuine sense of pride at pleasing him clouded by her regret for the deceit that made it possible.
“I do worry that you’re working too hard, Laurence,” her father said. “It’s about time you thought about settling down and finding a wife. Having a family of your own.”
“One day, sir,” Laurence said. “When the time is right.”
Of course, that time had never come. If she had sometimes felt pangs of longing for a different life, Laurence put them out of her mind—in the early days, out of loyalty to her mother, and later because she loved her work and knew she would be forced to give it up if the truth were to emerge.
* * * *
“There is a lady here to see you, sir,” her secretary had announced one blustery day soon after Laurence was named a partner in the firm.
Laurence was puzzled. “I don’t recall having an appointment with anyone this afternoon.”
“Quite correct, sir,” the secretary agreed. “But the woman in question is exceedingly agitated and begging for an audience with you. She says the matter is highly confidential. Judging from her attire, she appears to be someone important. Most definitely wealthy.”
Laurence frowned. “Hmm. Quite irregular. Still, one never knows. I suppose you should show her in, then.”
A well-dressed woman, her faced obscured by a large hat and dark veil, was soon seated in Laurence’s office.
“What can I do for you, madam?” Laurence inquired politely.
“I desperately need your help, sir,” came the muffled reply.
The mystery woman slipped off the veil, and Laurence gasped, knowing her identity immediately, yet barely able to recognize her for the horrifying morass of cuts and bruises covering every inch of her face, for it was Lady Arundel, wife to the rich and powerful Earl Arundel and one of London’s most celebrated beauties. At least she had been. Both her eyes were now black and nearly swollen shut, and her lip looked as if it had been cut open by a blow of some sort. Laurence couldn’t be sure, but it appeared that her nose might be broken as well.
“Dear God,” Laurence exclaimed, unable to hide her horror. She immediately regretted not doing a better job of controlling her reaction, as tears began welling from Lady Arundel’s once beautiful eyes, which were now bloodshot. “I apologize, my lady, but I will confess you have caught me off guard.” Laurence handed the lady a white handkerchief.
“There is no need to apologize, sir, for I know I look a terrible fright,” Lady Arundel said, wincing in pain as she sought to dab at her tears.
“May I ask who has done such violence to you?”
“This is Arundel’s handiwork,” Lady Arundel said bitterly. “Quite impressive, don’t you agree?”
Laurence could hardly believe what she was hearing. “I do not understand,” she responded, flabbergasted by Lady Arundel’s words. “Surely you cannot mean to say that your husband is responsible for this atrocity?”
“It is not the first time he has done so, but it must be the last, for I cannot survive another,” Lady Arundel sobbed.
Alarmed, Laurence did something she had never done before with a client, grasping the lady’s hand in her own, hoping to provide even some small measure of physical comfort. “If it will not overly distress you, please tell me what happened.”
And Lady Arundel did, explaining that two days previously, Lord Arundel had returned home quite early in the morning after a night of gambling and drinking.
“He was furious over losing money to Lord McGuffin in a game of loo,” the lady said. He had taken his rage out on his wife, first hitting her with his fists, and when she tried to escape, beating her with his walking stick until she was nearly unconscious.
“I would return to my family without a moment’s regret, but I cannot abandon my four children to such a monster,” Lady Arundel cried. “He has said that if I leave, he will never let me see them again. Please, sir, won’t you help me?”
“I will do everything possible to assist you, my lady,” Laurence said somberly. “You have my solemn vow.”
It was a pledge, Laurence soon discovered, that would be difficult to fulfill. Under the law, Lady Arundel could take no action against her husband.
“I’m sorry, my boy,” Edward said, shaking his head. “But wives and children are a man’s responsibility, and the courts will not interfere in family matters.”
“How is it possible that Lady Arundel could be nearly beaten to death and be threatened with the loss of her home and children for no reason and not have any legal recourse?” Laurence asked, growing more outraged each time she thought of her client’s battered countenance.
Edward patted Laurence on the shoulder sympathetically. “It speaks well of your character that you wish to help a lady in distress. But Lord Arundel is greatly respected. Some say he’ll be the next prime minister. Why would such a man do such a thing without provocation? She must have done something to deserve it.”
“With all due respect, sir, no one—particularly a woman—could do anything to deserve what Lady Arundel endured,” Laurence said heatedly.
“Pursuing anything against Arundel is a waste of time,” Edward counseled. “No good will come of it. As difficult as it may be, I advise you to let this matter go.”
Laurence was unable to take her father’s sage advice, for Lady Arundel’s ravaged face and tragic eyes continued to haunt her. But the laws were crystal clear, and, try as she might, she could find no avenue by which her client might prevail in a courtroom. Tomorrow she faced the sad task of telling the lady there was nothing to be done.
Although it was quite cold, she walked home that evening, deep in thought.
“A difficult day by the looks of it, sir,” Martin said sympathetically, helping Laurence off with her coat.
“You have no idea, Martin.” Laurence sighed heavily and turned toward the library.
“A right shame about Lady Arundel, ain’t it? She’s one of the few who’s as kind as she is beautiful,” Martin remarked, his tone so casual that it took a few moments for the words to register in Laurence’s weary brain.
Laurence stopped in midstride and spun around to stare at the servant. “What do you know about Lady Arundel?”
“Word gets around, faster than you might think,” Martin replied. “Them lords and ladies think no one knows their secrets. But there’s always talk, especially among servants.”
“Is there, now?” Laurence asked curiously, wondering in which direction this conversation with her normally taciturn butler was heading. And what other secrets he might know. “What do the servants say about Lady Arundel?”
“Some have maybe wondered why a great man like Lord Arundel would see fit to abuse his wife. Maybe feeling guilty for his own devious crimes?” Martin offered.
“And what sort of devious crimes might cause a great man to behave in such a brutal manner?” Laurence asked slowly.
“I am sure I wouldn’t have any ideas about that, sir,” Martin replied, but there was a look in his eye that told Laurence he knew more than he was revealing.
“Who might know, Martin?”
The servant hesitated. “There are some who say information about nearly everything and everyone can be had for a price from a certain lady. A Mrs. Cooper.”
“Do you believe this Mrs. Cooper knows something useful about Lord Arundel?”
“Could be, sir. Could be,” Martin said cryptically.
Laurence regarded Martin thoughtfully. “How would one go about locating this Mrs. Cooper?”
“I can take you to see her right now if you like, sir,” Martin said, a sly look on his face. “Although I’ll be warning you that she’s not in the smart part of town.”
“If she has information that could help poor Lady Arundel, I don’t care if she’s running a brothel,” Laurence declared.
Martin looked pained.
“She’s running a brothel?” Laurence asked weakly.
“It’s a fancy one,” Martin admitted. “Not so bad as all that.”
Laurence sighed. “Take me there.”
* * * *
Two weeks later, following a private meeting with Laurence Heath, Lord Arundel had a miraculous change of heart, agreeing that it would be best for all concerned if he were to provide Lady Arundel with a generous settlement and custody of their children.
“Better that than have his fellow peers discover that he had illegally traded with France during the war,” Laurence crowed to Martin that evening.
“Well done, miss…I mean, sir.”
Laurence gave him a sharp look.
“Do you know everything, then, Martin?” she asked.
“Most everything worth knowing, but that doesn’t mean I tell it all,” the servant replied with a smile. “You’ve always been good to me, and I look after me own.”
“Thank you, Martin,” she said. “That gives me enormous comfort.”
Lady Arundel never learned the exact reason behind her estranged husband’s abrupt turnaround, but she wrote a letter of thanks to Laurence expressing her “profound sense of gratitude for your invaluable assistance and support during the most trying days of my life.”
Word began to spread quietly among well-connected ladies of the ton of the young solicitor who was willing to take up cases on their behalf and who somehow managed to prevail against even the most recalcitrant of men. If the fortunes of a certain Mrs. Cooper were on the rise during the same time, well, there was no reason for anyone to connect a Kensington madam with a respectable solicitor like Laurence Heath.
“You’ve a nice way with the society ladies, my boy,” Edward said admiringly to Laurence. “But don’t be too good, or their husbands will stop paying our bills.”
“Of course, sir,” Laurence replied obediently, silently vowing to make sure that her more
unorthodox
methods for resolving legal matters for the firm’s female clients remained well concealed from her father and the other partners.
* * * *
When Edward Heath died unexpectedly three weeks before Laurence’s twenty-eighth birthday, there was no question among the remaining four partners who would take over as managing partner.
“It must be Laurence. It is what his uncle and grandfather would have wanted, after all,” they agreed.
A few days after Edward Heath’s will was read, Laurence was summoned to the home of his father’s widow.
“I understand you are my late husband’s nephew and heir,” Mrs. Heath said by way of greeting, no trace of warmth in her voice. Dressed in her widow’s weeds, she was seated on a sofa in the drawing room. She did not invite Laurence to sit down.
“Yes, madam,” Laurence said, bowing in polite deference to the woman who had been her father’s wife for forty years.
“Quite interesting, since my husband’s only brother died of typhoid at the age of ten,” said Mrs. Heath, giving Laurence a critical look. “Yet the family resemblance is remarkable.”
Laurence had no ready response to that, for she could see the other woman knew the truth of the matter and despised her for it.
“For reasons that shall remain an eternal mystery, my
dear
husband saw fit to leave you in charge of the firm and of the financial affairs of this family,” Mrs. Heath said, her lips pulled as tied as the drawstrings on a lady’s reticule. “Never mind that he had five sons-in-law.”
“I am honored that Uncle Edward trusted me with such an important responsibility,” Laurence said.
Mrs. Heath’s eyes narrowed angrily. “Don’t play the innocent with me, for I know exactly who and what you are,” she spat out.
Laurence flinched as if she had been dealt a physical blow. “I am sorry—”
“You will be silent,” Mrs. Heath ordered. “For I have no interest in anything you have to say. Your sole purpose is to make certain that my daughters and I lack for nothing and that this household continues to run as it always has. Is that understood?”
“It is indeed, madam.” Laurence nodded.
“You will leave now and never return, for I will not have our family home sullied by the presence of my late husband’s by-blow,” Mrs. Heath said.
“That will be difficult, for according to the terms of the will, I am to personally deliver your household funds to you here each quarter,” Laurence said.