“You only need to convince anyone who casually looks your way. Once we get to the solicitors, you can drop the act,” he said with a smile. “I do not think I have ever seen you so nervous.”
Phoebe tried to quell her trembling hands by clasping her palms together, but it did little to help.
“Well, it seems I must distract you then.”
“Distract me?” she said in surprise. “How?”
“Have I ever told you that I have been to Venice?” he asked, waiting for her reaction.
“Venice? What was that like?”
It was only a few minutes later Phoebe realized how successful Hayward had been in his mission to distract her. She became so caught up in hearing of his travels to Venice, of seeing the canals, the narrow houses, St Mark’s Basilica and more such beauties, that the trembling of her fingers had stopped, and all that she was interested in was hearing more of his travels.
Sat in the carriage together, Phoebe had angled her body more toward Hayward at the side of her, hanging on his every word. They talked for so long about Venice, that she didn’t even notice that they had arrived, not until there was a tap on the carriage door and she jumped to high heaven.
“Good lord, Josiah, you frightened her half to death!” Hayward said as he turned and opened the carriage door. It revealed on the other side the Marquess of Dodge who was standing on the pavement, looking up and down around him.
“Apologies, but I think now is the best chance we’ll have to get Lady Ridlington inside with as few people seeing her as possible.” He beckoned Phoebe forward. She followed the gesture quickly, out of the carriage and looked up and down the street as well from under the brim of her hat.
Fleet Street was a busy place, though most people seemed to be heading home for the evening, each person absorbed in their own business and barely looking at the carriage. Phoebe bent her head once more and looked away from the street, following the Marquess through the nearest door and into one of the townhouses, with Hayward close behind her.
Inside, the Marquess and Hayward exchanged a few words with a young secretary, who then pointed them through to a room on the second floor. Walking into the office that was lined with books, a little like a library, with a desk in the middle and an abundance of chairs to sit in, Phoebe felt out of place. It was as though she was walking into a world that her father and husband had always banned her from.
It is as much my world as it is theirs, remember that.She supposed she would just have to get used to being in such places if she was to obtain her separation.
“Right, where is the Lady Ridlington?” a voice asked. Phoebe turned round to see that there was actually a man in the room. Small, weedy and with features rather pointed, like that of a mouse, he looked up from where he had been standing in the far corner reading some books.
“I am Lady Ridlington,” Phoebe said, using her normal voice as Hayward beckoned her forward.
“Ah,” the solicitor’s eyes widened in amazement before he stepped forward and snatched up a pair of spectacles from his desk and placed them on the bridge of his nose. “Well, that is quite a terrific deception, my Lady. You had me quite fooled!”
“Thank you.”
“I am Mr Norman Preston,” the solicitor said with a bow. “It is good to see you again, Lord Dodge,” he turned and bowed to the Marquess. “And you must be the Duke of Hayward,” he addressed Hayward at last.
“I am. It is good to meet you,” Hayward said, offering his hand to shake.
“As it is to meet you. Now, let’s sit down,” the solicitor urged them all to take seats. Phoebe was rather startled when Hayward pulled out a chair for her to sit in, urging her to sit before him. It felt rather odd to still be treated like a fine lady when she was dressed as a boy. “I understand from the Marquess that you wish to file for separation, my Lady. I have agreed to take on the case, but I wished to speak to you, so that you know of the difficulties on such occasions as these.”
“What do you mean?” Phoebe asked, sitting forward in her chair.
“Marriage law is somewhat…skewed,” Mr Preston said painfully as he slid some papers across the table and began to flick through. “It is regrettably always in favor of the gentleman. In terms of getting an annuity out of your husband too for the rest of your life, your husband is better placed in law to argue against the value and get such a thing reduced.”
“I see,” Phoebe said quietly. “You wished to see me because you wish to tell me that my chances of success are slim?” She froze in the chair, aware that either side of her the Marquess and Hayward were fidgeting uncomfortably, clearly disquieted by this news.
“In a way, yes,” Mr Preston sighed with the words and paused flicking through his paperwork. “That is not to say that such cases can’t be won in the favor of the lady, but we usually have to be more artful. Especially if the gentleman does not wish to have the separation, then the stakes are even harder.”
Oh Lord, why did I ever think this was even possible?Phoebe gripped the sides of her chair as the thought struck home.
“What is it you need?” Hayward spoke up. “In order to settle the case in Lady Ridlington’s favor.”
“The ecclesiastical court requires quite a lot in order to obtain what we calldivortium a mensa et thoro,”the solicitor winced with his own words. “By law if a woman walks out on her husband without a good reason, he has the right to find her and drag her home again.”
Phoebe flinched at the words.
“I think it best we opt for different language, Mr Preston,” Hayward said cautiously. Phoebe glanced between the two of them, realizing Hayward was saying such a thing for her sake.
“The words can’t hurt me, Your Grace. It is fine,” she said with feeling, watching as his lips flickered into the smallest of smiles before it was gone.
