Percival got to his feet. “Who are you?”
The man limped towards him, looked him up and down, seemingly unimpressed. They were of a height, but he still managed to look down his nose at Percival. He stuck out his hand.
“Who am I?” He repeated. “Why, I am your future father-in-law, Reginald Sinclair.”
Chapter 25
Ruling
Abigail awoke when someone shook her roughly. She startled, shooting up to sit, bringing her hands up to defend herself against she knew not what.
“Hush. It’s me, Jack. Time to get up. You can’t stay here during the day. Come with me.”
Abigail cleared her throat, feeling befogged. She looked down to see Tommy still sleeping peacefully. Swallowing, she turned to Jack.
“Where are we going?”
“Recreation room. You can eat’cher breakfas’ there.”
Abigail pulled a protesting Tommy to his feet and dragged him along with her as she followed Jack. Someone was wailing in a most disconcerting manner, choking the corridor with a despairing sound. Abigail wanted to cower and cover her ears. She could feel Tommy clinging to her limpet-like, even as they walked.
With relief, they turned down a different corridor and the sound faded away behind them.
How much more of this am I to take?
Abigail could feel despair well up inside her like a flood in a storm. She had been avoiding thinking about what would happen when she was eventually brought in front of a magistrate. Unless she could prove that she was innocent she would hang.
If Abigail knew anything at all, it was that she was not ready to die.
* * *
Percival looked around at the group of people gathered in the shop. Between Mrs. Thorne and Mr. Phillip Sinclair, he seemed the only one all-a-mort by the resurrection of Mr. Reginald Sinclair.
“I see that reports of your death were greatly exaggerated.” He murmured drily.
Reginald Sinclair looked amused. “A satirist Duke! How fascinating.”
Percival turned to Mrs. Thorne. “Is Abigail aware that her father still lives?” he asked coldly.
She shook her head slowly, dropping her head and sighing. “This was never supposed to happen.”
“Another thing that was never supposed to happen,” Reginald Sinclair said glaring at them all, “was my daughter joining the dice.”
Mrs. Thorne took a deep breath, “Reggie—”
He cut her off with a lift of his palm and a slight shake of his head.
“No excuses, please. I left my daughter in your care and you have let me down.”
Mrs. Thorne’s face filled with angry color and she opened her mouth but Mr. Phillip Sinclair reached out a hand and wrapped it tight around her wrist.
“You’re right, brother,” he said, “We have failed Abigail in this one thing. Now are you going to help us get her back or are you going to vilify the woman who raised your daughter to be an exemplary young lady?”
Reginald Sinclair snorted, turning away. His eyes fell on Percival, his gaze taking him all in, from the well-shined patina of his Hessians to the ruby ring on his finger and up to his un-wigged head.
“Do you love my daughter and promise to cherish her for the rest of her life?”
Percival’s eyebrow lifted. “I do.”
Reginald gave a curt nod. “Good. Then we can use the belly plea. That might save her from the noose, or at least give us time to find the right people to bribe.”
Mrs. Thorne gasped and Phillip let out an exclamation of shock. Percival would be lying if he said the thought had not occurred to him.
“First we must get her out of Newgate.”
“You are a Duke. You can have her released into your care.”
Percival shook his head. “It is not that easy. We must wait until she goes before a magistrate and bail is set. The Earl and his daughter might oppose it. Nothing is certain.”
Reginald smiled, in a way that had Percival taking a step back. It was not a friendly expression. “Don’t you worry about the magistrate. I shall make sure he grants bond.”
Percival stared at him, wanting to ask what he possibly meant by that but knowing it was better if he remained ignorant. He turned away, carried away by his thoughts. The notion of laying with Abigail made his stomach twist with excitement but blast if he had wanted it to be under these circumstances.
“I must go,” he heard Reginald say behind him, and turned to see him heading to the door.
“Wait,” he called before he could think.
Reginald paused, turning his head slightly, and waited.
“How are we to communicate with you?”
Reginald turned his head completely, an amused smile on his face. “Give any messages to my brother.”
He reached out, opened the door, and disappeared from view. Percival whirled on Mrs. Thorne and Mr. Sinclair.
“All this time, you knew he was alive?”
They exchanged glances before looking back at him, saying nothing. Percival sighed, turning away. It came to him forcibly that he was dealing with people who, at the very least, were in communion with criminals. At worst, were criminals themselves. Yet here he was, contemplating tying himself to them permanently through the sacrament of marriage.
Have I lost my mind?
“Does Abigail know he is alive, too?”
“No!” they chorused together.
“And you shall not tell her,” Mr. Sinclair added his eyes narrowing threateningly.
Percival huffed in sardonic relief.
I suppose one is not part of the family until they know at least one secret they are obligated to keep.
* * *
Henry was headed toward the study when he overheard the name of the girl Percival had lost his mind over. He stopped, peering into the morning room, to see his mother and Lady Rosaline, heads together.
“I cannot believe Percival is attempting to get her out of gaol. What will it take to break him free of that girl? Can he not see that she is a criminal?”
His mother sighed. “Men. They do not think with their heads once a demi-rep has them…” she glanced at Lady Rosaline with what looked disconcertingly like a smirk, “mesmerized.”
“Then how can we possibly break her hold on him?”
“I expect once the noose closes around her neck, he will be forced to leave her behind,” his mother said, rather callously in Henry’s opinion.
“What if she is set free?”
“The magistrate would not do that. He is a dear friend of your father’s.”
“But she will have a barrister, for sure, if the Duke is looking out for her!”
His mother shook her head. “It matters not. She will be convicted.”
Henry took a step backward, surprised at the venom in his mother’s voice. For the first time, he began to wonder if the girl—Abigail—was truly guilty of what she was accused of.
* * *
“You are to appear before the magistrate today,” Jack said to the girl as he brought her breakfast. A room had opened up on the Master’s side of the prison and so Jack had moved them there. The Duke was paying him a whole lot more than the average inmate on this side of the prison, even if they were nobility.
The girl gasped but quickly composed herself, turning her attention to the boy she had taken on. She put some bread on a plate for him and watched as he scarfed it down like it might be the last meal he would ever eat. Jack did not know why she insisted upon keeping him with her. They were not related and his mother had cocked up her toes. He should be in the poorhouse or an orphanage. Still, he was not paid to question her.
“Where will I appear before this magistrate? Will he come here?”
“No. You will be transported to his residence.”
“Will…will I be able to have my mo-mother with me?”
Jack shrugged. He did not know much about how that all worked. He was just here to guard prisoners.
He left her to prepare herself, heading ba
ck to the guard room. He was in the midst of a game of whist when a soft feminine voice distracted him from the doorway.
“Excuse me? I am looking for Jack O’Malley?”
He studied the tallish, brown-haired, green-eyed woman, who looked somewhat familiar. He stood up.
“I’m Jack. What do yer want?”
She cleared her throat, coloring delicately. “I…the Duke said I should ask for you. I am here to see my daughter.”
Her daughter?
Yes, that was why she looked familiar. She was of a look with the girl.
“Oh, well, follow me then,” he said, courteously enough.
* * *
“Mama!” Abigail leaped to her feet, enveloping her mother in a strong hug. “I am so glad to see you.”
“Oh, Abby. Are you all right?” her mother’s voice was trembling and her eyes were damp.
“I am all right. Mr. O’Malley is taking care of us.”
“Us?”
Abigail moved aside so that her mother could see Tommy, sitting on the bed, his hair covering his eyes as he looked down at his toes.
“This is Tommy. He’s been my faithful companion as long as I’ve been here.”
“Oh…” Joan said, “Is he…on his own?”
“His mother…is no more,” Abigail told her in a low voice hoping Tommy could not hear.
“Ah,” Joan said, and turned to Tommy. “It is very nice to meet you, Tommy.”
The boy’s eyes flicked upward briefly and he smiled. Up here on the Masters’ side, there were windows and so they could see each other. Tommy had the most intense blue eyes Abigail had ever seen, but his body was malnourished and small, his hair long and unkempt. She had tried her best to clean it with the limited bathing water they had but she could not do much with no comb or scissors. She was hoping she could take him home with her as he did not seem to have anyone else.
She was able to communicate all this to her mother with just a glance, who nodded her understanding. Abigail’s heart softened with love, knowing that she was fortunate, indeed, to have the mother she did.
“Mother, they are taking me before the magistrate today. Will you be able to come with me?”
“Wild horses could not keep me away. Don’t you worry, the Duke says he can get you out on bond. You will be home soon enough.”
Abigail looked back at Tommy who seemed to understand that she might leave him. “I want to take Tommy with us, Mother. Please?”
“Of course, darling. We won’t leave him behind.”
Abigail gave her another hug. “Thank you, Mother.” She turned to Tommy.
“Did you hear that, Tommy? You’re coming home with me.”
Tommy simply nodded. “Mama’s not goin’ to wake up, is she?”
Abigail shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid not, Tommy. But I promise to look after you, all right?”
Tommy bobbed his head up and down, his long hair hiding his eyes. It couldn’t hide the droop in his shoulder or the dejection in his hunched spine. Abigail’s lip trembled with sympathetic pain. She could well imagine how it must hurt to lose a mother. She hurried to him, putting her arms gently around him.
“It’ll be all right,” she murmured. Her mother came and put her arms around both of them.
“Yes, it’ll be all right. I promise.” She echoed. Abigail knew she wasn’t talking just to Tommy. She relaxed into her mother’s arms and let her hold them both.
* * *
The charge sheet read as follows:
586. ABIGAIL THORNE was arrested for stealing, on the 3rd of March, at Mayfair, One Ruby brooch value ten sovereigns. The property of Lady Rosaline Hoskins, in their dwelling-house.
LADY ROSALINE HOSKINS. I am the daughter of the Earl of Huntington and Lady Mary Huntington. We reside on 103 Mayfair Place. On the 3rd of March, between five and seven o'clock in the evening, the prisoner came to my house, it was dusk; We had tea.
My butler, Stevens, came up to me, and said the prisoner had taken my ruby brooch; I looked at her and saw a shine from my red brooch peeking out of the prisoner's cloak. I had taken it off my dress myself not two minutes before. She had it inside her cloak. I saw a little bit of it hanging out under her cloak, which was on her arm. I laid hold of her, she laid it down.
The prisoner said she did not take the brooch, and made towards the door; I pulled her back and sent for a constable, who took her to Bow Street. The brooch is 2.38 ct Ruby, 0.30 ct Diamond, Pearl, and 14 ct Yellow Gold Crescent. Her cloak was on her arm, she was not wearing it.
LEONARD STEVENS. I am butler to the prosecutor. On the 3rd of March, the prisoner came to Huntington House for tea with Lady Hoskins. She had not been into the house before. I do not know what they discussed. I did not serve them, but I saw her enter and leave.
Q. Did you get her cloak? A. Yes, I did. I deposited the cloak on the rack as is customary and then went on with my work. I then saw the prisoner take the brooch off the table. It was about ten feet from me as I walked past to check on her when my lady had to step out of the room. She took it as privately as she could, and was watching for Lady Hoskins all the time.
I immediately went up to Lady Hoskins, called her into the hallway and told her what I had seen. She directly went back to the parlor and seized the prisoner.
Q. How long were you away from them when you went to speak to your mistress? A. About half an hour. There was time enough for her to notice the brooch and plan to take it if she thought fit. When my mistress seized her, she wanted to run off.
Prisoner's Defense. I am a dressmaker, and have worked with my mother for a long time. On the day mentioned, I had been to Mayfair and had just left the home when Lady Hoskins called me back.
She accused me of stealing her brooch of which I had no knowledge and then they proceeded to search me, pretending to find the brooch in a pouch I had sewn into my cloak, which is patently untrue.
Q. What had Miss Thorne done to make him think she was going to steal the brooch? A. Miss Thorne is a dressmaker with limited income. No doubt, she thought she might sell it for some blunt.
MR. STEVENS re-examined. I am sure she said she wanted to go after she took it. I cannot say whether she had any premeditated intention of doing so, but I saw her lay it down. It was under her cloak, apparently concealed. I only saw a very small piece hanging out. I should not think she had it in her possession more than one or two minutes.
JURY. Q. Was there anything to prevent her from running away? A. Nothing that I know of, but to the best of my recollection, she did not know she had been detected.
The jury will deliberate whether Miss Thorne will be indicted.
* * *
They filed out of the magistrate’s residence, after the Duke’s barrister had argued vigorously for Abigail to get a bail bond.
“Your Honor, the prisoner is a flight risk,” the prosecutor tried to argue.
“Your Honor, the woman in question is affianced to the Duke of Northcott. She has no reason to flee,” the defense counsel objected.
After much deliberation, the magistrate ruled that a bail bond of a hundred guineas would be set and Miss Thorne would be released to the Duke of Northcott’s custody.
Dazedly, Abigail got to her feet and followed Percival out of the room.
Chapter 26
Plotting and Scheming
“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”
They were all sitting in the Duke’s parlor, cups of tea and plates of cakes in front of them. None, except Tommy, had partaken of the refreshments.
“You are not going to die, darling, don’t talk like that,” her mother said, immediately reaching over to squeeze Abigail’s hand between hers. Abigail appreciated the gesture but it did not dissuade her from the notion of her impending death.
“Promise you’ll look after Tommy when I’m gone.”
The Duke made an annoyed sound. “It will not come to that, Abigail. Now please, try to eat something. You cannot have received but modest fare at the prison
, despite our best efforts.”
Abigail smiled at him. “Thank you for sending Mr. O’Malley. He was very good to us.”
“I should hope so, with the fortune I paid him,” Percival mumbled, looking away and coloring slightly as though the notion of being thanked was foreign to him.
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