She turned on him. “I’ve every right to be in a temper! The notion of kidnapping was bad enough. But abduction? Only wait until I get hold of Marjorie!”
“Sit down, Miss Greenaway!”
The sharp tone evidently cut through Apple’s rising choler, for her head whipped round and she stared at the magistrate, her eyes wild.
Alex would have seized her shoulders and dragged her back to her seat, but the thought of how it might look stayed him. Things were bad enough. If he showed himself capable of manhandling her, he would only pile up evidence against himself.
Thankfully, Apple plonked back down into the chair, gripping her fingers together in the way she had when she was overwrought. Alex resumed his own seat, wishing he had the right to seize her out of this and to the devil with all of them.
“Perhaps, Miss Greenaway, you will be kind enough to relate the circumstances which led to your being in Lord Dymond’s company.”
Apple raised her head at that, shooting a dagger look at the man. “If you think I was in his company without a chaperon, you are fair and far off. We were alone together only for a matter of hours, and even then his servants were present.”
The magistrate did not bat an eyelid. “Very well, Miss Greenaway, but that does not answer my question.”
Apple drew an audible breath and her voice was unsteady. “If you must know, I hid myself in his coach and asked him — at pistol point — to take me to the next stage.”
That flurried the fellow’s complacency, Alex thought with satisfaction. The magistrate’s startled look almost caused him to laugh out.
“So you see he had no choice,” Apple resumed. “After that, Lord Dymond acted purely out of chivalry. He could not approve of my travelling alone when I told him my story, and he did not try to take me home because he supposed I should only take off again, which is perfectly true. So instead, he took me to his sister’s house and left me there while he went to consult with Mr Vergette on my behalf. Then we went to stay with his parents at Dymond Garth for Christmas. There, sir. Does that sound like an abduction to you?”
She flung the last words at the man in a way so typical of his Apple, Alex was obliged to hide a smile.
Justice Armitage pursed his lips. “I must concede that it does not. However, there is no gainsaying that Lord Dymond had no right to hold you against the express wishes of your guardians, who claim that he refused to release your person into their charge.”
“At my sister’s house, yes,” Alex put in. “And so would you have done, my dear sir, had you heard the manner in which they chose to speak to her.”
Before the man could respond to this, an altercation could be heard outside the door. Voices were raised, including the familiar shrill one. The magistrate half rose from his seat as the door crashed open, admitting a tumble of Marjorie, Walter and the individual trying to prevent their entry.
“I will be heard!”
“You’ll not stop us, that you won’t!”
“Jackson!” roared the magistrate. “What the deuce are you doing?”
Panting, the stout fellow threw his hands in the air, turning to address his superior. “Couldn’t stop them — sir! Did — my best!”
“Get that man out of my office!”
Alex had leapt up and turned, as had Apple, who gripped his arm, dismay in her face.
Justice Armitage strode around the desk to confront the intruders, as Jackson made a valiant attempt to eject Walter from the room.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Marjorie, righting herself from a near fall, waded in, arms akimbo. “I’ll tell you, my good sir, with pleasure! I’m here to see this precious Lord Dymond of hers don’t cozen you into believing his nonsense, that’s what.”
Outraged, the magistrate glared at her. “Madam, you do yourself no good by this interference, I assure you.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Pushing past him, she came up to Alex, wagging a finger in his face. “I’ll go bail you’ve told him a pack of lies!”
Walter, still grappling with the stout Jackson, made himself heard. “Hoy! Let go, will you, man?” Then yelling across the fellow’s form, “Don’t you be fooled, Justice, sir! Smooth-tongued rascal he is, and all!”
The magistrate, evidently feeling that further remonstrance was useless, addressed himself to his minion. “All right, Jackson, let him go.”
Released, Walter staggered a little, righted himself, and tugged at his disarranged clothing.
The magistrate regarded him with a look of loathing. “Mr Greenaway, if you do not cease, you will find yourself up on a charge of hindering an officer of the law in the execution of his duty.” Swinging on Marjorie, he added, “And that applies equally to you, madam. Do I make myself clear?”
