I kiss her hand and send her off to Livingston. “My lady, I think your testimony is just fine.”
Rosa giggles. Livingston, too. The man looks like a weight has been removed from his back.
But it’s time for all of this to be done. “Mrs. Palmers”—I look at Katherine while I say this part—“Tavis loved her. Katherine somewhat cared for him … well, loved him, and she used her money to try and help Tavis save his father. When Wilcox Coal became so indebted that its coffers ran empty, Palmers got Tavis to take insane bets.” I turn back to the poor excuse for a father. “You got your son killed. And yet you stand here trying to abuse Katherine and the Wilcoxes. Good people who’ve only tried to help you.”
“You worm.” Mrs. Palmers goes to her husband and slaps him. “Our son would do anything for you. You used him. Now you tried to use the Wilcoxes again. Why?”
“They don’t deserve anything they have. I encouraged Cesar to deliver coal. I gave him the hat he used and told him to dress up to impress customers. He followed all my instructions but never gave me a dime.”
“You didn’t work for anything.” Katherine’s tone sounds bold and loud. The righteous anger in her that in the past has spewed upon me rains down. Finger pointing, she steps toward the couple. “You’ve never gotten up before dawn to load a dray. You never made sure everyone had what they needed to heat their homes in the winter or worked past sunset. You never did any of the backbreaking labor. My father did and still found the strength to sit by my mother’s sickbed from sunset to midnight to dawn.”
She swallows and glances at the returning Scarlett and Georgina. “Our mother sewed all the uniforms, made the schedules, and raised three proud girls while battling a debilitating illness. Patsy and Cesar Wilcox made Wilcox Coal great, not you, you sniveling entitled fool.”
I want to give Katherine my cane, but I need it to stand beside her.
“You owe me.” Palmers hits his chest. “Katherine, it was my idea. You were old enough. You heard.”
“My father humored you. He already had his ideas. My mother sewed uniforms long before you ever suggested anything.” Katherine gets close enough to punch him. “Tavis deserved a better father. And my father deserved a true friend, not a jealous, reckless man.”
“I’ll see you in court, Katherine Wilcox.” Palmers sneers and tries to grab his wife’s hand.
I wave to my barrister and snap for Steele’s servers. “Joseph Palmers, you’re insolvent. I’ve consolidated all of your debts. Since you haven’t made any effort to pay me and refused my last offer, I ask an officer of the court to take you now into custody. You’ll remain in debtors’ prison until you can repay me.”
Lord Ashbrook and a bailiff step forward. “The Duke of Torrance applied for and was granted a writ of capias ad satisfaciendum. He stated he’d give you one last chance to settle tonight.”
“He crumpled the paper right in front of me.” I sigh and make a big show of it. “Lady Lydia was playing hide-and-seek under the desk. She heard everything and was shocked an old man could be so stupid. He had a chance to reduce the debts Tavis encumbered upon Wilcox Coal on his behalf and the new debts Palmers created since Tavis died.”
“I didn’t understand.” Palmers tries to resist the bailiff. “I’ll take the deal now.”
“No deal. And you don’t have thirty thousand pounds. My daughter is right. You are stupid and predictable. And you’vetried to ruin my party. To prison.” I offer him a dismissive wave. “Do svidaniya.”
Palmers tries to escape, but the runners, the deputized servers, apprehend him and lift him into the air like the bread platter.
Mrs. Palmers shakes her head while her husband screams for her to get a solicitor. “With what, Joseph? There’s no Tavis to save you.”
The bailiff orders the servers, “Shackle him into the prisoner cart outside. We’ll take him to the magistrate, and he’ll be remanded to Marshalsea Prison.”
“Rats. Overcrowding. No.” Sweating, chest drumming, Palmers tries to kick, but they carry him away, screaming, “I don’t deserve this!”
My fingers latch to Katherine’s hand, and together we turn away from the pitiful sight to my barrister. “Lord Ashbrook,” I say, “thank you.”
Katherine takes a full breath. “Thank you. This is over.”
Lord Mark strikes up the musicians. Some begin to dance.
“Trouble can still be made,” Ashbrook says, “but from what I heard, what everyone witnessed, Palmers damned himself, not you, Your Graces.”
Katherine’s mouth opens, but she says nothing.
I shake his hand. “My barrister’s maneuverings and pleadings at the King’s Bench and Court of Chancery have been instrumental.”
“If necessary,” Ashbrook says, “a good word from your husband will resolve anything.” He dips his head to Katherine and then to me. “I’ll be in touch, Your Graces. Good night.”
He leaves.
Carew brings his hands together. “That was something.” He takes his laughing aunt, Telma Smith, to dance to a new rendition of the interrupted Sir Roger de Coverley. The violins and oboes add to the spirited harmony.
Some guests stay.
