Page 1 of Give Him a Chance

Chapter One

May 2, 1841

If the manin the ridiculous wig does not take my side soon, Lady Lucy Chance thought furiously,I am going to do the unthinkable and lose my temper.

“I think you will find it is a very reasonable argument that I am making,” she said aloud, doing her best to keep her voice level, despite the intense provocation. “And all I ask—”

“‘All I ask’?” The man seated before her—in a seat much higher than her—glared down with an incredulous voice. “Allyou ask?”

Lucy tried not to permit her cheeks to flush at this, but it was rather difficult. After all, she had an audience.

The courtroom was absolutely packed. The gallery was rammed with people, some clearly curious, one or two quietly weeping, but the vast majority of them were calling out, laughing, whooping whenever a prisoner was brought out in chains.

As though this were an entertainment, Lucy thought sinisterly, righteous anger boiling in her blood.As though the prisoners were animals in some sort of zoo.

Behind her sat a gaggle of solicitors, all wearing those ridiculous wigs they insisted on wearing, muttering about a wild woman.

Which, now that Lucy considered it, had to be her.

But really, what did they expect? It was almost impossible to march into the Houses of Parliament, and goodness knew she had tried. Even with her father’s assistance, she had been refused entry, so there were really very few options ahead of her when it came to changing the law and demanding better for the very least in Society.

And the least this judge could do was speak to her as though she were a sane woman.

“You are in contempt,” the man was saying, each syllable enunciated slowly and dramatically as though she had lost her wits. Or worse, was French. “My good woman—”

Lucy had momentarily taken a seat, but she launched up to a standing position in outrage at such a statement. “I am notyour good woman!”

There was more laughter from the gallery now, something she should have expected, but it was nonetheless absolutely outrageous.

Well, really!Where was British democracy when you needed it? Where was the elegant and instructive cut and thrust of debate? Where was the man’s reason?

Though perhaps I should not have expected such a person to be reasonable, Lucy thought darkly,when they happily accept the ridiculous requirement of wearing such large, powdery wigs.

Maybe his brain was overheating under it.

The judge glared down his large beaky nose. “My dear woman—”

“My name is Lady Lucy Chance, and I am the daughter of—”

“My lady?”

Lucy turned. The voice had been gentle and genteel, which was more than most voices one could find in a courtroom, even she had to admit.

The person speaking was a solicitor of some sort, a barrister, from what she could make out by the ridiculous garb he was wearing. Honestly, it was 1841, for goodness’s sake! Did they not wish to make any improvements to the legal dress?

“Yes?” she snapped, temper rising as it was becoming clearer and clearer that once again, she would be unsuccessful in her goal.

The solicitor smiled obsequiously. “Do not give your full name, m’lady. Not in a place like this.”

Lucy raised an imperious eyebrow. Being so imperious was not her natural state, and so she had practiced hard in a looking glass that very morning for just such an occasion.

It was a shame that whenever one of her eyebrows rose in derision, the other one somehow joined it, making her look momentarily surprised instead of devastatingly cutting.

She lowered both eyebrows. “And why not?”

The solicitor glanced at the gallery, at the calls and jeers from the courtroom’s audience, then back to her. “Because you are a different class, m’lady. You do not wish to be tarred by the likes oftheirbrush.”

Lucy swelled with outrage.