The crowds hushed.
Was I leaning forward?
“Towl, I need you to think very carefully. Say the truth and appeal to the court’s mercy. Or do I need to bring the witnesses, the man who saw you take the bundle of new cloth under your arm? Or the other noble soul who tackled you with goods still clutched in your meaty palms?”
The man gripped the rails and hung his head. “No. I confess. I ask for mercy.”
The weight of Daniel’s questioning made the prisoner crumble. The men in the jury area whooped and hollered again.
That’s when I saw the earl’s half smile, his shoulders falling back as he turned to face the judge. “Lord Mayor, you’ve heard the confession, I ask that we forgo burdening the good jurymen. I move you sentence the defendant and offer leniency. He’s given his testimony and thrown himself at your mercy.”
“Yes, sir. I throw myself like he said.”
The Lord Mayor put on a dark cap and pounded his gavel along his desk. “Agreed. I will sentence him now. Mr. Towl, you will be whipped at sundown and then confined in Newgate for three months.”
Ashbrook raised a hand, then drew it back slowly to his side. “Lord Mayor, must Towl be whipped? He confessed. Mercy—”
“My ruling stands. Lord Ashbrook, know a win when you hear it. The trial is over. Waste no time with me.”
The earl nodded, but the man’s harsh tone made my stomach burn. Daniel did a service to the Crown and the judge was condescending to him. That wasn’t right.
The diligent barrister took it without complaint.
Why?
A glimpse at Daniel’s hand showed it fisting about his papers. He did have emotions. They’d been buried. The man riding, chasing after me on horseback, hid nothing. This one in court was forced to hide everything.
I understood him, better than I ever had, the show he had to maintain. The hurt he had to hide. If I’d understood sooner, we would’ve quarreled less.
The Lord Mayor left his bench.
The bailiff led the angry, bucking prisoner out of the court.
The Old Bailey cleared.
Daniel drew a crowd. Women. Wealthy women in fine dresses, the kind with lace and pleats that took hours to press, fluttered about him.
Lady Lavinia passed me, tipping her bonnet before leaving. She must have thought it unwise to threaten all the ladies who waited for the barrister.
I wasn’t trying to compete for his affections. Maybe I vainly thought I had them, but I hated tension between women more. Maybe that’s why I loved the Widow’s Grace, women helping women.
Still, I didn’t want anyone helping themselves to Daniel.
I started down the stairs to reach him. People rushed past me, but I was determined.
Left. Right. Somehow, I became a little turned around in the hall. The crowd flowed one way, but I swam against it.
Upstream, I waded in the entry to the prestigious courtroom.
Empty, the benches for the barristers, the jurymen, bared.
Silent and cold, the air scented with dying nosegay teased my head.
I put my hands on the barrister table, the spot where Daniel had stood, had won.
“Madame, who are you set to defend today?”
That voice.
