“He’d be a lot happier if he was more like his father and not so serious.”
“Lady Lavinia, I think the earl is fine as is.”
“His drunkard father was more fun. Always singing, always one to count on to do something outlandish.”
Daniel never mentioned his father, not once, and I knew the barrister hated outlandish. “Excuse me. Court must be starting.”
As I turned, she grabbed my elbow again. “You’re not bothered that he’s with us both? You’re not frustrated that he won’t publicly acknowledge either one of us?”
“Discretion is a good quality. I thank you for giving him comfort. A little bit of advice: he doesn’t like loud women.”
The woman faltered for a moment, but her smile recovered. She released my arm and walked with me deeper into the building. “You’re a strange one, Buckles.”
“It’s a gift to be contrary.”
She looked away, adjusting her calf leather gloves. “Go marry the dowdy shipper. Lord Ashbrook is not for you.”
“I know, but a girl should enjoy the services of an earl, a handsome one at that, at least once. Excuse me.”
Her stained perfect mouth hung open. Those painted cheeks darkened as I left her to her scheming.
Making my way to the gallery, I took a seat by a column, near a face I recognized from Lady Shrewsbury’s kitchen table meetings.
Brunette, lithe from fretting, Mrs. Cultony looked at me and I her.
We weren’t supposed to acknowledge one another in public. No one was to know. But I clasped my hands in prayer. In a clear voice, I offered a whisper just for her. “The holy habitation is the protector of widows, providing relief and favor. Favor in the courts.”
She nodded, and then faced the barrister’s table.
I felt deeply for Mrs. Cultony. The custody of her girls would be assured if this cruel charge of theft was gone. The Court of the Chancery would have to see how loving and good she was and how wrong her husband’s family had been in taking the children.
If my babe had survived theMinerva, I’m sure the St. Maurs would use my amnesia to deny my rights. I felt it deep in my bosom. Daniel must suspect this too, that they’d use my condition to harm me. It had to be why he was so protective.
A man costumed similarly to the earl with a wig and black robes approached the high desk at the front of the courtroom.
“New evidence has appeared, Lord Mayor,” he said. “After discussing with a colleague, I suggest the charges against Mrs. Cultony brought forth by the Cultony family be withdrawn.”
The Lord Mayor, a thin man in a robe of scarlet and donning a horse wig full of curls half down his back, craned his neck. He looked over his high desk. “What are you speaking of?”
“Several witnesses have come forward to dispute the claims. The missing items were found in the family’s possession. The Cultonys are now saying this was a tragic misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?” The Lord Mayor guffawed, uttering an annoyed nasal sound from his lengthy nose. “Let your clients know what a grievous problem it is to have misunderstandings waste the court’s time.”
“They do,” the barrister said, “and they extend every apology.”
The crowd and my fellow widow sat like stone, like marble statues.
So did I.
It wasn’t done until the man in red said so. All the Widow’s Grace knew this. Cultony needed the law and facts to marry with favor—all had to be on the same side for this to be a win.
The Lord Mayor picked up his gavel and held it for at least twenty seconds. “The charges,” he said in a huff, “are vacated. Remind the Cultony family if they ever waste the court’s time again, they will find themselves in Newgate. Call the next trial to order.”
The barrister bowed and headed back to the table, the half-circle-shaped desk where Daniel sat.
My fellow conspirator, my fellow widow grasped my hand.
Her face was still fully forward, but she squeezed my fingers, three quick pumps, all hidden beneath my creamy shawl.
