Charles picked up a glass and took a sip.
“Justice is something that every lawyer is expected to serve,” Stockton said. “However, in my experience, most clients don’t seek true justice. Instead, they seek to further their own ends and act in the spirit of what suitsthembest, even if it’s detrimental to the wellbeing of others. Whereas you, Lord Devereaux…”
Charles paused, his glass at lips.
“Whereas you,” the lawyer continued, “wish to act in accordance with the true spirit of justice. Justice for your tenants, which redresses years of neglect.” He sipped his brandy. “Of course, I mean no disrespect to your father. And, of course, justice for your wife to redress the imbalance imposed on us by a society where one’s advantages are as a result of birth and sex rather than merit.”
Devil’s breeches, had the man managed to crawl into Charles’s soul?
“I’m sure that many of my clients would act in accordance with similar principles had they the means—or rather, had they access to a substantial dowry from the Duke of Whitcombe. But you have mygood opinion, Lord Devereaux, whether you value it or not.”
Stockton raised his glass. Charles did likewise and clinked his glass against the lawyer’s, nodding to John to do likewise. Then the three men drained their brandies.
“I shan’t keep you longer than necessary if you’re anxious to return to your wife, Lord Devereaux. Billings can send a message as soon as the documents are ready.”
“Lady Devereaux is not in Town,” John said.
“A pity,” Stockton replied. “In which case, I’ll do everything I can to ensure the documents are prepared as quickly as possible so that you may return to her. It’s never wise to leave a bride alone for long. In the meantime, I trust you’ll enjoy your stay in Town.”
Did the lawyer’s voice carry a note of judgment?
Perhaps Charles should have brought Olivia with him. But she disliked Society even more than he. And his lodgings were hardly suitable for a woman. For one thing, there was only one bedchamber.
Though that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.
He drew in a sharp breath to temper the surge in his groin. His body might be ready for her again, but hers…
Though he’d tried to be gentle with her, Charles hadn’t missed the glimmer of fear in her eyes despite her pleading with him to take her, nor the sheen of pain that she’d tried her best to hide.
Their business concluded, Charles rose, and Stockton ushered him out of the office and escorted him to the door, where the bright sunshine of the London morning awaited him, reflecting off the bone-white façade of the buildings. He climbed into the waiting carriage and his valet followed.
“Where to?” John asked. “Savile Row, perhaps?” He gestured to Charles’s jacket. “You could do with a new suit—the moths have got to that one.”
Whose fault is that? Aren’t you supposed to take care of my jackets?
“You’ve had that jacket for years, sir. I’ll wager it’s even older thanyour wife.”
Charles let out a sigh and glanced out of the window at the passing buildings, which grew increasingly less ostentatious en route to Cheapside.
“Something must have unsettled you if you’re not threatening to dismiss me for impudence,” John said. “In fact, you’ve not made such a threat for two days. Since…”
Charles snapped his head around and glared at the valet.
Go on, John, I dare you.
John met his gaze and nodded in understanding. Charles’s intimacy with his wife had unsettled him—not just because of the guilt he’d felt at taking her, but from the faint rush of pleasure that had swelled inside him as he claimed her body. But, unlike every previous encounter with a woman, their coupling hadn’t been just a primal act of a male marking his female. It was something else. A union of bodies…perhaps even the beginning of a union of souls.
“If I’m permitted to express an opinion…” John began, and Charles gestured in return.
Since when have you felt the need to ask permission to force your opinion on me?
“Very well, I shall say it. I agree with Mr. Stockton. It was an unusual request to settle property on your wife should she outlive you without producing an heir. Few men in your position would enter into a negotiation with the trustees of his estate to split the assets should the contingency arise, even if those assets are granted as a life tenancy.” John rattled out the words so quickly they stumbled over each other. Then he sat back. “There, I’ve said it. Of course, you don’t owe me an explanation.”
But you want one anyway.Charles let out a sigh.My wife is in need of security. Her birth makes it so, and I want to ensure she has an indisputable right to it.
“I’m sure she’ll be relieved to hear that.”
She is not to be told.
