The less friendly aspects of his handsome face hardened. “Do not assume the law is upheld by fools. A few pounds do not a counterfeit charge make. If they have him in prison, a good amount was found in his possession, Miss Belvoir.” His expression softened. “You must prepare yourself.”
Prepare yourself. It was the kind of thing said to relatives of the dying. She stared at this man who would be the agent of her father’s destruction. Fury at her father collided with fury at him.
“How kind of you. How sympathetic. You lower your voice and pretend concern, but when his trial opens you will be there in your wig and robes and convince the jury to convict him and the judge to damn him. His life will be over for a small crime barely worth noting.”
His countenance turned very hard indeed. “Miss Belvoir, I am truly sorry for you, but not for him. Counterfeiting is not a minor crime. It is never small. It is normally undertaken on a large scale, because it requires significant skill and investment. If your father did this, as it appears he did, I will indeed convince the jury to convict him. My sympathy is for you, as it is for all relatives of criminals, but to expect sympathy for the criminals themselves is expecting too much from me or anyone else.”
His words sliced like so many lashes from a whip, inflicting pain the way uncompromising reality can. She glimpsed a terrible future for her father, and an ignoble end. Her dismay must have showed, because he stepped closer to her. His hand came to rest on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort that dismayed her all the more.
“The gaoler said that you wanted to see him moved to a better ward. One with some privacy and less damp. I will see what I can do about that if you want.”
What a voice he had when he spoke like this. Low and resonant, the tone alone seduced one to listen and want to hear more. That and his proximity tempted her to pretend the gesture of comfort came from a friend. It would be blissful to have someone share the burden if only for a few minutes.
She sniffed back the tears threatening to fall. “First kind, then cruel, then kind again. What kind of man are you? I do not want to be indebted to your whimsies of generosity. I want to be free to hate you.”
His hand fell away. “I will look into it anyway. You will owe me no thanks.”
She did not think her composure would hold. Without another word she hurried away, so she did not have to acknowledge his offer.
CHAPTER3
Padua did not ask the most likely man to refer her to a solicitor. While Ives no doubt knew the best of them, she could not count on his impartiality. A different option occurred to her as she blindly walked the streets near Newgate after leaving Ives. Before returning home she visited the gaoler’s office again, and requested names of him.
“You cannot count on the judge allowing it,” Mr. Brown said. However, he provided three names of solicitors whom he thought to be honest and smart. Two days later she again slipped away from the school and made her way to the Inns of Court to call on one of them.
Mr. Notley listened to her tale of woe, his sharp, dark eyes peering at her over his broad, empty desk. She suspected him to be one of those people whorequired exacting order in his life if he managed his affairs with so little evidence of industry. His attention to his dress gave her heart. Unlike Ives in his midnight banyan, Mr. Notley indeed wore black coats of perfect fit and had a clerk nearby taking notes.
His face indicated he was not a young man, but his hair remained as black as his eyes. Padua wondered if he did something to encourage the color. She found herself eyeing his collar, looking for dust or stains from dye.
“You say Lord Ywain will prosecute?” Mr. Notley found that detail of great interest. “That is, I am afraid to say, not good news.”
“I am so accustomed to bad news that I find I greet your observation with surprising equanimity.”
“He is very good, but that is not my concern. Due to his birth he has the highest connections, including a friendship with the prince regent.”
“I had no idea.”
“His father was the Duke of Aylesbury, Miss Belvoir, and his brother is the current one. He is asked to prosecute when the government has a particular interest in a case. We would prefer it did not have too much interest in this one.”
“I see what you mean about not good news now.”
“Indeed. However, at least he is honest. We will depend on that.”
She hoped the repeatedwemeant he was going to help her. Mr. Notley appeared to still be thinking it over.
“If your father will not aid me in his defense, my hands will be considerably tied, Miss Belvoir. I will feel like a thief taking fees from you.”
“I cannot allow him to be tried without someone speaking for him, however.”
“That is understandable.” He made a tent with his long fingers and pondered the point they made. “If it comes down to providing a defense based on his character, I will do the speaking. Normally solicitors do not appear in front of judges, but matters are less formal in the criminal courts. However, if information develops that brings his guilt into question, we will need to obtain the services of a lawyer skilled in the theatrics of the courtroom, one who will match Lord Ywain in ability and prestige. That will be expensive.”
“Tell me how much when the time comes, and I will tell you if I have it. For now, please let me know what I will owe you.”
“Normally my clerk attends to that.” He looked at that clerk. The two exchanged knowing looks that said,Such is our lot to serve suchas this.
“Two pounds for the preliminaries,” the clerk said. Mr. Notley managed to appear like he had not heard.
Padua had that much on her, and more. The valise under her bed grew emptier by the day. “If I give you ten shillings more, will you look into something else for me? It does relate to my father.”
