Then she tiptoed out of the gallery of spectators. The Widow’s Grace had done good.
But I didn’t budge.
My barrister stood. He seemed a little taller than the other men. The ebony color of Daniel’s robe made his skin seem darker, so much warmer than the others. He was wonderfully tan, golden, like the sun had found a way to touch him through the large windows anchoring the court.
Daniel leaned over the table and flipped through papers. “I, Lord Mayor, have an instance of true theft. This will be a prosecution of fabric.”
“Showy fabric? A case meant for you, Ashbrook.” The Lord Mayor snorted a chuckle. “Proceed.”
The tone he took with Daniel . . . a little harsh, even condescending, made me cringe, but the earl didn’t flinch. He turned to his papers as a man was brought by the bailiff to the prisoner’s dock.
Shackles. Dull metal on his hands. It looked so heavy.
For a moment, I closed my eyes to it, until I heard Daniel’s perfect diction, crisp and calm. “This is a theft of convenience. Sometimes proximity can cause things to go awry. Sometimes it’s a gift.”
Heat rose to my cheeks as if he spoke only to me.
He made a point with hand waving, then he raised his gaze to the spectators ringing the courtroom.
Did he see me?
Did he wish, like me, that it was only him and I alone in this room?
Then he could be as carefree as a man on a horse giving chase, not chained to protocol or other’s expectations. Then I’d share my secret of how I liked being under his protection last week. How I craned my ear to hear him return to Finchely, seeking out me and Hope. I’ll never forget our final dinner together, all of us sitting in his dining room, his full smile showing between courses.
Daniel moved in front of the jurymen. “I will prove that Samuel Towl took advantage of proximity to abuse his employer.”
“Proceed, Lord Ashbrook.” The Lord Mayor flipped a page on his crowded desk. “Do get on with it.”
“Samuel Towl,” Daniel said. “You’ve been indicted for the felonious crime of stealing the property of John Gray. Is that true?”
“Yes, they charged me, but I didn’t do it.”
Daniel picked up a piece of paper. “Have you ever worked for the linen draper, John Gray?”
The fellow in chains slapped his hands against the rail. “I worked for ’em. He fired me and lied on me to get me charged. How’s a man to feed his family when you rich do-nothin’s tak’n’ everything?”
The crowds sighed and hooted, but my eyes locked again on the prisoner’s chains. Iron links to hold you down, to keep you away, to make you comply. The St. Maurs dumped me into Bedlam. Why? What threat was I, or was it punishment?
Someone was to blame for my husband’s and daughter’s deaths. They decided I was to pay?
I blinked and focused again on now, the present.
Daniel raised his palms, and the room quieted. “Why would Mr. Gray do this? You seem a decent man, a family man.”
“Do I have to answer this Blackamoor’s questions? If I’m going to Newgate, let it be done with my peers, the good ones.”
The place became noisy again.
Many laughed, but Daniel, he didn’t look upset. Nothing had changed in his blank expression—his stance remained unbothered. Nothing.
“Mr. Towl,” he said, “you will answer my questions, or you can confess right now to being so foolish as to steal from your employer in the middle of the day.”
“I’m not foolish. Can he say I’m foolish, Judge?”
Daniel went in front of the prisoner box. He whispered something.
All leaned in, but I could tell that he said something that wiped the smug smile from the defendant.
