“I am positive.”
“And yet you do not even know where he lives in London.” His words did not dismiss her outright, but his expression almost did. His eyes had narrowed with skepticism.
She felt her best chance to help her father slipping away.
“I told him that his silence was foolhardy. That is why I am here. I was told that some people have lawyers at their trials now. I was told that you at times speak for those accused.”Slow down. Stop gushing words.“My father is incapable of defending himself, and may even be unwilling to do so. The accusations are insulting, and he is the sort to refuse to engage in the insult by refuting it.”
He had not moved during her impassioned plea.Those hands still rested at the end of the chair’s arms. Attractive, masculine hands, as handsome as his face. His gaze had not left her, and the shifts regarding what he looked at had been subtle but unmistakable. Not only her face had been measured. She did not think she had been as closely examined in her life, let alone by a man such as this one.
She was not an inexperienced young girl. She recognized the purpose of that gaze, and could imagine the thoughts that occupied part of his mind. A small part, she hoped. She trusted at least some of what she had said took root amidst his masculine calculations.
In a different circumstance she might be flattered, but the bawd’s words made the attention dangerous. He did not appear of a predatory nature, and such a man hardly needed to take advantage of an accused man’s female relatives if he wanted to satisfy carnal needs. However, she experienced some alarm and a good deal of confusion. The latter resulted from the undeniable and inappropriate low stirring his attention evoked. She did not want to acknowledge it, but it was there. He was the kind of man who could do that to a woman, no matter how much she fought it.
“You do not know the accusations, so you cannot say they are insulting,” he said.
“Any accusation of a crime would be insulting to a man like my father. If you met him you would understand what I mean. Hadrian Belvoir is the least likely criminal in the world. Truly.”
The smallest frown flexed on his brow. Hisattention shifted again, to the inside of his head. She ceased to exist for a long moment. He stood abruptly. “Excuse me, please. I will return momentarily.”
Then he was gone, his midnight banyan billowing behind him.
***
Hadrian Belvoir.
Ever since his visitor introduced herself, an indefinable something had nudged at Ives. The pokes implied he should know her, yet nothing about her was familiar.
Hadrian Belvoir. That name did more than poke.
He strode up to his private chambers, to a writing desk there where he dealt with personal letters. He rifled through a thick stack of old mail, discarding it piece by piece, frowning while he sought the letter he wanted. Finally he found it.
He flipped it open and held it near the lamp. There that name was, buried amidst a casual communication.You can expect to be asked to be prosecutor for a Hadrian Belvoir, once his case is brought forward.It would please us if you accepted.
He checked the date. This had been written a month ago. No wonder the name had not been in the front of his memory. If Mr. Belvoir resided in Newgate Prison, why had this informal approach not turned into a formal one by now? It was possible his victims had hired their own prosecutor, of course, but if that were likely, these sentences would never have been written.
It would please us if you accepted. Considering who had written this, it went without saying that acceptance was assumed, and would indeed be given.
He would have to inform Miss Belvoir that she must look elsewhere.
He returned to the office and the bright-eyed Miss Belvoir. He had realized, while she talked and talked, that her eyes sparkled even when she did not cry. He had also calculated that if she stood, she would be willowy and long limbed. An idle curiosity had crossed his mind, about what it was like to take a woman who was a good match for his own height. His mind had pictured it, making the necessary adjustments...
No sooner had he walked into the chamber than she began speaking. “I think you can see that a great injustice will occur if my father does not receive your help, sir. I beg you to consider accepting his case. I am prepared to pay you whatever fees you require.”
Not likely, from the looks of that dress and spencer. “Miss Belvoir, allow me to explain that no barrister will accept financial remuneration from you for defending in this matter.”
She went still. Her lips parted in surprise. He felt bad that his refusal shocked her, but there was nothing else for it.
She looked up at him, confused. “Are you saying you will do it for free?”
“I am saying that barristers do not get paid by clients; they are engaged by solicitors who take care ofsuch things. Barristers will be insulted if you offer to pay them like they are tradesmen.”
“So I must first find a solicitor and have him ask you. Instead of one lawyer I must hire two.”
“You must find a solicitor to investigate, but I will not be the barrister he engages to argue the case in the courtroom. I cannot be the defending lawyer. When you mentioned your father’s name, I realized I have already been approached to serve on the other side.”
“Other side?”
“Prosecutor.”
