by Yasmine Nash
By the time they left, Mildred was still looking like a shell of her normal self, but at least Louisa had convinced her friend to eat a few bites and drink a cup of strong tea. Hopefully, she would actually get some sleep. The rest of the healing would take time.
Assuming Louisa and Jon were even able to help. What if they couldn’t convince the judge to release Timothy?
Instead of heading straight to the courthouse, Jon told Louisa he wanted to ask the advice of a friend, Henry Northam, who was well-versed in legal matters.
“He’s not a barrister,” Jon said, “but Northam is more knowledgeable about the law than anyone else I know, my own attorneys included.”
“Yet he doesn’t practice it himself?” Louisa thought that was rather curious, but then, she didn’t know anything about the matter.
Jon shrugged. “I believe he’d wanted to, at some point. He even apprenticed with the Inn of Courts, but for one reason or another that never came to anything. Northam is a good man though. And his family is very well connected. Those will also be points in our favor. With any luck, he’ll still be in town.”
“He’s better connected than a duke?” Louisa asked skeptically. Surely Jon had plenty of influential friends he could turn to himself.
“Yes,” Jon said simply, without a trace of self-consciousness. “You might have realized by now that I make it a point to avoid society unless I have to. I have no patience for the posturing and simpering required to advance one’s social circle. Northam doesn’t either, I think, but his brother and father are experts in the art.”
Now that Jon mentioned it, Louisa could see exactly what he was saying. It was one of the things she liked about him. He had a sense of honor, but he didn’t suffer from vanity the way most young men did.
Something else was nagging on Louisa’s mind the entire ride to this friend’s residence.
“You’re being unusually quiet,” Jon remarked. He had been watching her for several minutes without Louisa noticing.
She started. “Sorry. I’ve been reflecting on something Mildred said. That all this trouble began anew when she returned from Devonshire. So if she hadn’t been gone so long to take care of me, she would have been here in London to watch over Mr. Allen and ensure he didn’t fall back into his old habits.”
Jon interrupted her. “I see where you’re going with this, Louisa, but I assure you, none of this is your fault.”
She shook her head, disbelieving him. “I can’t help but feel guilty. I only hope Mildred doesn’t blame me too harshly.”
“I assure you,” Jon said, “that my sister won’t blame you at all. She knows her husband too well by now. As do I. Timothy would have gotten himself into trouble again eventually, no matter what.” He sighed. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s my own. It was my idea for them to move to London. I had hoped the change in circumstance would force him to reduce his frivolous spending, but I should have seen the temptation the card tables would wield over a man like that. But it’s no use castigating ourselves. My brother-in-law is a grown man and must be held responsible for his own actions; he’s not a child to be babysat.”
She could only hope Jon was right, but even so, Louisa felt like she had a responsibility now to see the problem resolved.
It seemed as though luck was one their side. When they arrived at Henry Northam’s home in Mayfair, the servant who answered the door assured them his master was in. The servant immediately led them into the parlor where a handsome man Louisa thought must be Henry was laughing over a joke with a pretty, dark-haired woman. Henry had an open, kind face that looked as though it was often smiling. Louisa liked him on sight.
Jon cleared his throat. “I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion, Northam,” he began.
“Wallbridge!” Henry said, looking up at them with a mixture of surprise and delight alighting across his face. “I had no idea you were even in London.” He jumped up from his seat on the sofa and made a bow to Louisa. “And who is this?”
Jon made the introductions. “My ward, Louisa Kellynch. My friend Henry Northam.”
Louisa gave a pretty curtsy. In turn, Henry introduced the woman next to him as Alexa Northam, his wife. Alexa’s face glowed when she was called his wife and Louisa wondered if the two were newly married.
Henry soon became serious as he took in the somber expressions on Jon and Louisa’s faces. “What’s the matter?”
Jon explained everything to his friend. At one point during Jon’s explanation, Alexa rose politely, saying, “Maybe I should leave,” but Jon shook that aside.
“I completely trust in your discretion as well, Mrs. Northam.”
Henry’s smiling face had become more and more somber as Jon had gone on. When the other had finished, Henry spoke. “It’s fortunate you’ve caught me when you did. Alexa and I are leaving town at the end of the week.”
“We only came to town at all to attend the wedding of my friend, Bertha Godersham,” Alexa added. “Well, I suppose she’s Bertha Cogsworth now. Sorry, I’m rambling,” she said with a soft smile. “But we will, of course, stay as long as we’re needed. Right, Henry?”
“Of course,” her husband said. “We can delay our return by a few days. It makes no difference.”
“You have my gratitude,” Jon said.
“What’s the name of this Lord who’s lodged the complaint against your brother-in-law?” Henry asked with a frown.
“Therein lies the greater part of the problem,” Jon said shortly. “Arnold Chatsworth.”
Henry winced. “The Duke of Kent? Yes, I can see how that complicates matters. He is overreacting by threatening to send him to America, but it is within his legal right as the aggrieved party.” Henry paused, looking thoughtful. “I believe my brother George is friends with the man. I’ll write to him today and ask if he can intercede on our behalf. If we can convince Chatsworth to drop his complaint, then the courts won’t hold your brother-in-law. And they certainly won’t ship him off.”
Jon leaned forward, his forehead creased in the frown he got whenever he was deep in thought. “But that’s assuming we can pay off his debt. And it must be a sizeable one. I’ll need to speak to my banker to see where we can spare the money.”
“There’s also nothing to prevent your brother-in-law from repeating this behavior in the future,” Henry pointed out. “We’ll also want to draw up an agreement that limits the future damage he can inflict.”
Louisa had sat, watching the conversation take place without having anything to contribute of her own. Eventually, the two men huddled over a writing desk in the corner, working out the finer points of contention, seemingly forgetting the women were still in the room. Louisa was left alone with Alexa Northam. She struggled to come up with a topic to fill the silence, but everything she could think of seemed so unimportant in light of the emergency at hand.
Alexa saved her. “It must be a great stress, what you’re dealing with,” she told Louisa. “I know we’ve only just met, but if there’s anything I can do to ease the burden, please let me know. I long to help.”
“Thank you,” Louisa said sincerely, her eyes filling with tears. “Mildred is a dear friend to me. She’s shown me great kindness.”
It had been a very difficult day and it seemed the worry was now catching up to her. She dabbed her eyes on a handkerchief while Alexa politely pretended not to see.
“And you worry for her,” Alexa said soothingly. “It’s completely natural that you should. But I can assure you that Henry will do everything in his power to help.”
“That is good of him. And you,” Louisa said with a sniffle.
“It’s why Henry studied the law in the first place,” Alexa said, with a fond look in her husband’s direction. After a few more minutes of silence, Alexa spoke again. “His Grace called you his ward, but I’ve never heard Henry mention the duke had a ward. Are you a relative?”
Very, very, very distant relatives. “To an extent,” Louisa said, without elaborating more. Alexa No
rtham seemed very kind and genuine, but Louisa was emotionally exhausted. She didn’t feel up to explaining her complicated history with the duke and his family at the moment.
Several hours and multiple pots of tea later, Jon and Henry had sorted everything out between them. Henry would ride out that afternoon to talk to his brother George, who was summering just outside of London. With any luck, George would put in a good word for Timothy Allen with his friend, Arnold Chatsworth. Jon, meanwhile, had already sent off letters to his banker and attorney to begin the process of loosening up the requisite funds to pay off Timothy’s debt.
Jon was a very wealthy man, with multiple properties and estates scattered all across England, but even for him, the sum was sure to be uncomfortable. He and Louisa said goodbye to the Northams, with Jon promising to invite the two to stay in Devonshire as thanks as soon as this matter was all resolved.
“And where to next?” Louisa asked as they settled in the carriage again. It was late afternoon already, and the sun was starting to lower in the sky.
“The jail,” Jon said grimly. “I need to speak to my brother-in-law. We can stop at Park Lane and drop you off on the way. It’s no place for a young lady.”
Louisa drew herself up in the carriage. “I beg your pardon? I’m no fainting damsel. Surely you know me better than that by now, Jon. If you go to the jail, I go with you.”
He merely nodded shortly. The fact that he didn’t even attempt an argument let Louisa know how truly troubled he was. “It will all turn out all right. You’ll see,” Louisa assured him.
The smile he gave her at that was strained, but at least it was a smile.
When they arrived at the jail, however, she began to regret her insistence on tagging along. What aid could Louisa possibly have to offer? If only she didn’t feel so helpless. At least Jon hadn’t grown tired of her company. He looked weary though, the poor man. She longed to reach over and smooth the frown lines from his forehead; if only they weren’t in public. If she couldn’t be useful to Mildred, then she longed to be of some comfort for Jon.
With that resolution in her heart, Louisa felt calmer than she had all day.
At first, the man guarding the entrance didn’t want to let either Jon or Louisa through, but he relented when Jon placed several crisp banknotes into his hands. Then the man grunted and pointed them in the right direction with his chin.
The jail was dank and humid, with a heavy stench of sweat and human waste. It was like nothing Louisa had ever seen before. They passed one man in a cell who leered at her as she passed, loudly smacking his thin lips together and rudely clutching himself through his stained trousers.
Jon was distracted, his gaze shifting around the area in an attempt to find his brother-in-law. He looked down in surprise when Louisa sidled up to him and grabbed his arm. There was no sense in her being frightened of that lewd man—he was locked up, after all. But she still felt better when Jon returned her hold, placing his hand protectively against the small of her back.
Several minutes later, Louisa felt Jon stiffen. He brought them to a halt in front of a cell holding a thin, sandy-haired man. This, then, must be Timothy Allen. Louisa examined him curiously. This was the man Mildred had fallen so in love with, and who had driven his family to ruin.
He wasn’t unhandsome, even looking stressed and sleep-deprived in his wrinkled clothes. Perhaps Louisa was imagining it, but there seemed to be a sly, mean look to his eyes, even in these circumstances.
“Jonathan!” the man said in surprise, and a little fear, Louisa thought.
He was right to be afraid, for Jon looked as though he wanted to beat the man bloody with his own hands. Timothy seemed to sense that as well, for he cowered back a little in his cell.
“I want to make it clear that I am here only for my sister’s sake,” Jon said, his voice ringing coldly in the cavernous space. “If it were up to me, I’d let you hang without a moment’s thought.”
“Hang?” The other man blanched.
“Don’t worry,” Jon said in disgust. “You’ll be fine.”
Louisa spoke up for the first time, wanting to get the conversation back onto more pertinent subjects. “Perhaps you could tell us exactly what happened, Mr. Allen. It would be helpful for us to hear the events in your own words.”
The man gave Louisa a look mixed with curiosity and relief, then he delved into the tale. It was the same as they’d already heard from other sources, only laced with much more self-pity and little reflection. Jon’s expression of disgust only grew as Timothy went on. Louisa thought she could see why. The man didn’t seem to feel any accountability or regret for his actions. He tried to blame the Duke of Kent for deceiving him (how, he didn’t elaborate) and the court for being prejudiced against him.
Finally, Jon had had enough. “Clearly, the fault lies with everyone, except your own poor judgment,” he said sarcastically. “I am ready to resolve this situation for you, Tim, but I need to know that I won’t find you back here again in six months for the same reason. If my sister’s heart is to break, I’d rather have it happen once and be done, than to have her suffer a thousand smaller heartbreaks at your hand.”
At the mention of Mildred, Timothy finally seemed to display true regret. “How is she?” he asked softly. “My poor Millie.”
Jon scoffed. “It is very trying on her,” Louisa said. “But she is managing as best as can be expected under the circumstances. That’s why we need your promise, Mr. Allen. We’ve drawn up some papers. You’ll give over all of your current and future property rights to Jonathan. You’ll agree to give up gambling, but if you play anyway, all wagers you make will be voided. For all intents and purposes, His Grace will have complete guardianship over all your affairs.”
Timothy looked incredulous at Louisa’s proposal. “This is nothing to do with you, little girl. Leave these matters to the men,” he said dismissively.
“Watch yourself, Tim,” Jon said in a low voice. “Louisa is a wiser, more compassionate being than you could ever dream of.”
“Quite an impassioned defense,” Timothy said bitterly. “Perhaps you could worry less about your whore’s feelings and more about getting me released?”
The switch in Jon was immediate. He strode forward, grabbing Timothy’s shirt through the bars and pulling the man forward. Timothy’s face was squashed against the bars at what must have been an uncomfortable position.
“You will not insult Louisa Kellynch in front of me,” Jon growled. “Otherwise I’ll free you from this jail cell only to beat you senseless with my bare hands. I won’t give you another warning.”
Louisa’s heart warmed at this passionate defense, but it wasn’t helping matters. She laid a calming hand on Jon’s arm. Reluctantly, Jon’s grip on the man loosened. Timothy pulled free, hurrying to the end of his cell, out of Jon’s reach.
“You will sign the agreement,” Jon said harshly. “And you will give up gambling. Is that understood?” Timothy gave him a shaky nod of agreement. “Good. Let’s go, Louisa.” He strode off without giving his brother-in-law another word.
Louisa hurried after Jon, running to match his long stride. She chanced a glance behind her and saw Timothy sitting dejectedly on the floor of his cell, head in hands.
* * *
After visiting Timothy, Jon really did insist that Louisa return to the house. It was getting late and he still had a lot to accomplish before he’d be able to get some sleep that night. No reason she should suffer the same fate though. Besides, this was the sort of business that was best done man to man after a few rounds of drink. No place for a lady. He shouldn’t have even taken her to the jail, but she’d been so insistent that he’d relented.
She didn’t want to leave him now either, but this time Jon didn’t take no for an answer. He was gentle, but he made it clear he was not going to relent, so eventually, she went inside and Jon directed the carriage driver to the gentleman’s club Henry had told him the judge liked to frequent during the evenings.
&n
bsp; Jon entered the dark establishment. This particular club catered to every one of man’s worst impulses: drink, cards, and women. He’d been to places like this before as a younger man, but he’d long ago lost his taste for them.
As if summoned, a gorgeous redheaded woman with a bosom that threatened to spill from her dress approached Jon the moment he walked inside. She stroked his arm and simpered prettily, asking if he wanted any company that evening, but he sent her away. Jon preferred spending time with women who didn’t have to be paid to enjoy his company.
Some people never seemed to outgrow places like this though. Case in point: there was the judge, sitting at a table with a pretty young blond woman sitting on his lap and his face in her chest.
The judge would not be happy to have Jon interrupt his evening then. The duke armed himself with two large glasses of the establishment’s finest whiskey, then seated himself across from the judge. The man was so distracted, it took him several moments to notice Jon was there. When he recognized Jon, his face darkened.
“If you need to speak with me, you can visit my office in the morning, Your Grace,” he said grumpily.
Jon pushed the whiskey across the table as a peace offering. “How about a drink instead?”
The judge sighed in annoyance, but he lifted his head from the harlot’s breasts. “I’ll give you five minutes,” he said, clearly wanting to get back to his mistress’s attentions. She wasn’t being much help either. She remained firmly planted on the judge’s lap, not interested in going anywhere. And her hands continued stroking the older man’s mottled skin.
So it seemed they weren’t going to get any privacy. So be it. Jon ignored her, launching into his case.
The whiskey had managed to lighten the judge’s mood, and the initial five minutes he’d promised to Jon had turned into 30. By the time Jon left the club, he’d managed to get the judge’s agreement to his plan to release Timothy, assuming the Duke of Kent dropped his complaint and Jon paid off the debt in full. The judge also agreed not to give any word to the gossip pages, but he couldn’t guarantee that they wouldn’t hear of it from some other quarter instead.
