“No,” she answered. “But I was in Horncastle and thought I might drop in, if you’ve time to see me.”
“Of course.” A smile appeared below his mustache, making him appear much less the stern solicitor and more her friend. Her only friend.
Martin was an attractive man with his sandy hair and blue eyes and for a moment, Hester wondered what her life might have been like if she’d met him and not Joshua Black. Her eyes landed on the small miniature at the corner of the desk of Ellie Godwick, Martin’s wife. Her elegantly blonde features stared back, dainty chin lifted.
Ellie Godwick didn’t care for Hester. She was far beneath Ellie socially as the daughter of the town sot, a man often found passed out face down in the mud and smelling of gin, that it would be ridiculous for someone like Ellie to be her friend. Martin’s wife was from a prominent family in Grantham and well-connected.
“You rarely come to Horncastle, though I’m pleased to see you,” Martin said.
“I—had a few things to attend to.” Hester perched herself on the settee in Martin’s office.
“How is Sinclair?” A hard look came into Martin’s eyes.
“Throwing a house party for his card playing cronies at Blackbird Heath.” Hester looked away for a moment. “His guests arrive tomorrow from London.”
Martin gave her an appalled look. “You must stay here, in Horncastle. I’ll find you a room to let for a few nights and—”
“Absolutely not, Martin. I will only leave Blackbird Heath for the amount of time it takes to come to Horncastle, and no more. Anything else will be viewed as more permanent and Sinclair will take it as a sign to sell Blackbird Heath.” She shook her head. “I refuse to abandon Mrs. Ebersole and the others.”
“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Your loyalty is admirable, Hester. But there is something I need to say to you, if I may.”
“Of course.” Martin was going to tell her that there was absolutely no hope of overturning Joshua’s will, something she’d been dreading for weeks. She should have known that trying to find a judge to hear her out was nothing more than a fool’s errand. Hester clasped her hands, preparing herself to hear the worst.
Martin took a seat beside her on the wide settee instead of taking the chair across from her, as he usually did.
Hester’s brow furrowed as Martin’s fingers closed over hers.
“It is more than admiration I feel for you, Hester. Surely, you’ve realized as much.” The blue of his eyes shone brightly in the room before he leaned over, lips hovering near hers.
Shocked, Hester turned her chin so that Martin’s kiss landed on her cheek. She’d been prepared for disaster, not a declaration of affection. Pulling away her hand from his, Hester stood and walked a few paces away. “You are my solicitor, Martin.”
The smile on his lips faded. “I could be more if you would only allow it.”
Hester wasn’t sure how to respond and could only stare at the man who’d been her friend and solicitor since the death of her husband. She’d assumed Martin cared something for her, of course, but not—
“Is it because of Ellie?” He ran a hand through his hair again, then smoothed down the ends. “What am I saying? Of course, it is.” Martin gave her a pleading look. “I’m sorry, Hester. Truly. I’ve not been myself. I beg your forgiveness. If you don’t wish me to continue as your solicitor, I’ll understand.”
Hester’s chest tightened, though she only went so far as to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I think that Ellie’s continued illness has been difficult on you.”
“Incredibly.” The blue of his eyes was filled with remorse. “I don’t know what I’ll do if—the worst occurs. Ellie had a bad spell last night. I know that isn’t an excuse for my behavior, but I hope you can forgive me.”
“I do forgive you.” Martin was only lonely. His entire life revolved around Ellie and Godwick & Sons. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” She smiled down at him. “We are all guilty of behaving out of character when burdened with such challenges. Ellie will be well once more. I’m certain of it.”
Martin nodded. “Thank you, Hester. I don’t know what came over me.” His usual pleasant expression was once more firmly in place. “Now, we were discussing that uncivilized cur, Sinclair, and the intolerable house party he intends to host at Blackbird Heath. Let us move on from my moment of madness,” he cleared his throat with an awkward chuckle. “I have been unable to find a judge to legally remedy your situation, but there may be other means of ridding you of Sinclair.” His lips beneath the artfully styled mustache thinned into a cold smile.
Something oily spilled across her stomach, a sensation of not-quite-rightness in Martin’s tone.
A bark of laughter came from him. “You should see your face. Dear lord, Hester. I don’t mean anything nefarious; I assure you. I am going to seek the help of Bishop Franks, in Lincoln. He was a close friend of my father’s and can be influential when the right cause makes itself known. At least, he has in the past. You are a pitiful widow.” He winked. “In desperate need of assistance. At least, that’s what I will relay to Bishop Franks.”
“Oh.” A relieved sound escaped her. “Yes, feel free to make me as pathetic as you must as long as the good Bishop renders his aid.”
“I plan to tell him you are subjected to Sinclair’s whims and often go about in a state of weeping due to his demand you abandon your home. I may include a vague assertion that Sinclair took advantage of your sick, elderly husband. He is a gentleman steeped in deceit, gossip and sordid affairs.” Martin grew serious. “I remain hopeful. I won’t give up, Hester. Blackbird Heath belongs to you.”
Hester nodded in agreement, though she wasn’t at all certain Bishop Franks and his connections could be induced to help her. “I’ve taken up enough of your time, Martin. I should be going. I don’t want to be on the roads after dark.”
“Shall I escort you back?” His tone was grim and full of resolve. “I have half a mind to confront Sinclair about his treatment of you.”
Again, that distinct sensation of dread swirled inside her stomach no matter how Hester attempted to dispel it.
