The magistrate looked up in clear question and Alex thought fast. She’d been Appoline Greenaway for long enough to satisfy Bow Street. The legality of it was another matter. Who knew whether John Greenaway had some sort of certificate of adoption?
He leaned a little towards her. “Give him your name, Apple.”
As might have been expected, the fellow’s eyebrows shot up. “Apple?”
“It’s a pet name, sir.”
At last Apple spoke up. “I am Appoline Greenaway, sir.”
Again came the smile that did not reach the fellow’s eyes. “I see. Then the matter becomes comprehensible. I thank you, Miss Greenaway.”
Turning aside, he opened a drawer in his desk, rummaged for a moment, and drew out a roll of papers tied with red tape. Setting them on the desk, he removed the tape, unrolled the sheets and riffled through them, reading here and there.
Resisting the temptation to lean across the desk to try to read what was written there, Alex looked instead at Apple and found her frowning deeply as she watched the man across the desk. He was about to put out a hand to draw her attention, when she spoke, her tone much more like her usual self.
“What have you there, Mr Armitage? More of Marjorie’s lies?”
The magistrate ceased his labours and peered over his spectacles, a startled look in his eyes. “Lies, Miss Greenaway?”
“Yes, if she claims Alex — I mean, Lord Dymond — kidnapped me. It is quite untrue.”
The magistrate set lightly clasped hands on his blotter, steepling two fingers. “Indeed? Then what is the true story, Miss Greenaway? Did you in fact escape into his company?”
“Escape? Nothing of the sort!”
“Ran away then?”
“I did not run away. I was going to London to see my trustee.”
The magistrate set his spectacles more firmly on his nose and consulted his notes again, running a finger down the page. It stopped and he looked up.
“Mr Vergette?”
Quick to spot the distinct note of distaste in the fellow’s voice, Alex entered the lists. “That’s right. As I told your man Benjamin, you may seek corroboration from Vergette any time you care to.”
Justice Armitage held up a hand. “If you please, my lord, it will better serve your purpose if you allow Miss Greenaway to speak for herself.”
All too true. Alex subsided, fulminating nevertheless. But Apple’s hackles were clearly up.
“I will speak for myself, sir, and I will tell you that if my guardians say I ran away, they have it wrong.”
“But you admit they are your guardians?”
“Yes.” She bit her lip and Alex longed to seize her hand for comfort. “At least, I have always believed so. But in any event, it makes no matter, for I will come of age in a matter of days.”
The magistrate tapped his fingers on the blotter. “That, Miss Greenaway, is not germane, if you will forgive me. The matter before me is a charge of unlawful abduction on the part of Lord Dymond here.”
“What?”
“Abduction! That’s what they told you? How dare they? Alex has not laid a finger on me. Nor would he dream of doing so. He’s a gentleman!”
Shock held Alex silent for the moment, and the magistrate came back strongly.
“That, ma’am, is no guarantee against unlawful conduct.”
Apple was on her feet. “But I won’t have this! It’s quite untrue!”
“Apple, calm down,” said Alex, finding his voice and rising also. “Won’t serve us to be flying into a temper.”
