His eyes opened again. Wide. He scrambled to his feet and shuffled over to the bars. “Padua, I—”
“Do not say a word. You have had precious little to say to me in ten years, so do not start talking now. Just listen. I found the house. I have been there. You have no pride left to protect with me. I should turn my back on you, as you have done with me so often. I will not, however. I promised Mama, and I am your daughter. I only want to hear one word from you. Will you now, finally, make some attempt to defend yourself?”
“You have been there?” His face flushed.
“I am living there.”
His eyes widened. “No. You cannot have—”
“Oh, Papa, for heaven’s sake. I have not begun working there. I am not one of Mrs. Lavender’s young ladies. I am up with the servants. I have to live somewhere, don’t I? If you were not too proud to own such a place, who am I to be too proud to take sanctuary under its roof?”
“It is different. It is—”
“One word, Papa. Yes or no. Will you finally fightthis? If not, I will leave you alone, as you have so often insisted.”
He looked down. Emotion twisted his face. “I am sorry you know.”
“Yes or no, Papa?”
He weighed his answer for a long time. Exasperated, she turned to leave.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes.”
***
“Sir.” Vickers spoke lowly. “Sir, you have a visitor.”
Ives opened his eyes. Low flames in the fireplace greeted him. He had dozed off while reading a long, boring brief regarding a contested inheritance. It was the kind of family argument that made lawyers rich and the family in question much, much poorer.
“Send him away. Tell him to return tomorrow afternoon.”
“It is a woman, sir.”
Ives held out his hand.
“She has no card, sir. It is the same woman as before. The very tall one.”
Padua? Here?
He stood. “I will see her.”
“I put her in the office, sir.”
He wanted to tell Vickers to go and get her. Instead, he strode to the office.
She sat where she had been that first night. She appeared less distraught than that time. Less vulnerable. He paused at the door and admired her bright eyesand self-contained poise. Damnation, but it was good to see her. Too good.
She noticed him and he walked forward. “Padua.”
“I am sorry to come at this hour. Again.”
“You are welcome at any hour. Come to the library.”
“No. I would prefer we talk here. I have come to speak with the famed barrister, you see. Not my former lover.”
Her last words sliced at his heart. With difficulty, he became the barrister she sought. He sat in a chair facing her.
“I know you will not prosecute, and I know you cannot defend without great cost to yourself,” she said. “However, I hope you will speak to him. To my father. You know everything—about the house and that income. Mr. Notley does not as yet. If you question him, you may learn things Mr. Notley never will. And, I trust you, as I never will trust another.”
