Always Have Hope (Emerson Book 3)

by Maureen Driscoll

  “Adequate!” he said. “That could hardly be called only adequate!”

  “Oh, really, Nate? Then how would you describe it?”

  “I would describe it as….” He was about to start with “sublime,” and continue onward from there, when he noticed her wicked smile. So she was playing with him, was she? He should pull her back to him and let her know how he really felt about that kiss. “Do you often play with fire, Thorn?”

  “Only when I feel the need for warmth,” she said.

  That was it. He was going to take her in his arms…

  The door opened and the blasted Stemple walked in, followed by his wife. Stemple had evidently expected to find them in an embrace, for he looked almost disappointed to find them standing so far apart.

  But Mrs. Stemple picked up on their previous activity quicker than her husband, for she handed Rose a handkerchief with a motion to cover her swollen lips. Stemple turned around just in time to see Rose pretend to dab her eyes, while covering her lips.

  That was quick thinking on Mrs. Stemple’s part, who had her own swollen lips. Apparently, the couple had made good use of their time alone.

  “Did you make Lady Rose cry?” Stemple asked Nate menacingly.

  “No,” said Rose, still pretending to dab her eyes. “I am just so distraught over Win.”

  Stemple looked like he didn’t quite believe that and yearned to strike Nate just for good measure. Fortunately, his wife interceded once again.

  “Perhaps we should take our leave and return to Lynwood House before anyone misses us. Good day, my lord,” she said as she curtsied, then took her husband’s hand.

  Stemple bowed slightly, while continuing to glower menacingly. “Remember my warning, my lord.”

  “I could hardly forget it, could I? Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Stemple. And I shall see you later today, Lady Rose, as I speak to your brothers.”

  “About what?” she squeaked.

  “About your sister’s defense.”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” she said.

  She had little opportunity to linger, as Stemple ushered both ladies from the room posthaste.

  Nate breathed a sigh of relief as temptation incarnate left his room. Life was becoming more and more complicated. And how would he ever forget about the kiss from the woman he could not marry?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Alex stood outside St. Paul’s cathedral and said a quick prayer. The church was but a few hundred yards from Newgate prison. Some might say it was the literal pairing of sinners and saints, though Alex was too cynical to believe in the existence of saints. However, he’d seen enough sinners in his career to last a lifetime.

  His destination today wasn’t the prison, but the nearby Old Bailey, the criminal courts building. He studied it now, as he thought about the challenge he was facing. The grey stone building was meant to be intimidating. The brick barricade in front was designed to keep unruly citizens from storming the court, as had been done from time to time throughout history.

  If the exterior of the building was a testament to the need to protect the proceedings from the unruly lower classes, the interior was a salute to the wealth of the peerage. There was only one large courtroom in the building, though there were plans to add another in the next year or two. Four brass chandeliers provided light from high above while the barristers argued from elegant mahogany tables.

  But the true opulence was reserved for the rooms not frequented by the public. Judges had lavishly decorated offices and the Lord Mayor’s dining room was rumored to serve meals rivaling the finest restaurants in town. They were reminders to Alex that while the Crown and its judicial servants were supposed to work for the interests of all people, peers still believed they were class apart.

  Alex hadn’t expected to make an appearance at the Old Bailey that day. Upon returning home from Pierce’s house in the middle of the night, he’d found a summons to appear in court only a few hours later. The reason for the summons shocked Alex. Peyton was trying to get Win remanded once again to Newgate.

  At first, Alex had panicked, worried that someone had seen Win at her house. But then he noticed the date on the summons – the previous morning. Peyton couldn’t have known about her visit when he’d drafted the writ because it hadn’t yet occurred. Of course, that didn’t mean Win hadn’t broken the terms of her release that day as well. Mayhap she hadn’t told him about an earlier indiscretion. He shuddered to think of the risks she might have taken.

  Of course, there was no excuse given for the delay in delivering the summons. No doubt Peyton simply wanted to catch him unprepared. Nor was there an explanation for why the lady’s own barrister wanted her sent to prison.

  Early that morning, Alex had paid a street sweeper to deliver messages to Lynwood House and to Olson. Win’s presence at the Old Bailey wouldn’t be required for the hearing. But he wanted her brothers there to study the courtroom to see if they could learn who was behind the conspiracy. He’d be too busy trying to convince the Lord Chief Justice to allow Win to remain at Lynwood House.

  Alex had to find a way to block the move without making it seem like he was no longer working in the Crown’s best interests. If they removed him from the case, another barrister would be appointed in his place. And that one would try to convict her.

  After making his way through the narrow entrance of the building, Alex made his way to the courtroom. He was wearing his silk robe and wig, acting the role of a confident barrister, when in this case he was anything but.

  There would be no jury for the proceedings, only the Lord Chief Justice who’d decide whether Win would be remanded to gaol or remain at Lynwood House. Above and behind the empty jury box was a gallery for visitors. He looked for Win’s brothers, but they were not yet there.

  Alex unpacked his valise. He’d spent a few hours searching for precedent regarding the remanding of defendants, but hadn’t found a single case where the prosecutor would object to such a motion. He prayed Peyton would inadvertently give him something to work off. Normally, the odds were fairly good that such a thing would happen. But in this case, the stakes were so high that Alex couldn’t count on it.

  Alex was at his table when Peyton – wearing a brand new wig that must have cost a year’s salary – approached, with Olson in tow. Peyton was smug while Olson looked worried.

  That made Alex worry even more.

  “So, quite a spot of trouble you’re in, Lewis, isn’t it?” Peyton asked.

  “I cannot imagine what you mean,” said Alex coolly, though panic gripped him. Did they know about his involvement with Lady Win at the house? If that were the case, they wouldn’t just be throwing her in gaol. They might send him there, as well. Though, if given the choice, he’d gladly take her place.

  Peyton continued to gloat. “A ho! I have one up on you then. See, I’m going to argue for Lady Win to be remanded to Newgate and you can’t very well argue against that, can you? That would smack too much of pandering to the murderess’s family. You could be disbarred. In fact, I’d insist on it.”

  And Peyton would probably get his way. “First of all, Peyton, I don’t think you should be referring to your client as a murderess. Your job, after all, is to assert the lady’s innocence. A slip like that could get you disbarred, as well.” Alex had the slight satisfaction of seeing Peyton blink. “Second, why is it, exactly, that you’re trying to get her remanded to custody?”

  “For her own protection, of course. Who knows what might happen to her without the protection of Bow Street?”

  Alex stiffened, as did Olson.

  “Has someone threatened Lady Win?”

  Peyton looked confused. Not an unusual state for the man, but it showed that if a conspiracy to harm Win was afoot, Peyton was unaware of it.

  “I don’t know,” said the simpleton. “I was just told to say that.”

  “By whom?’

  Now Peyton lost all color in his face. “I cannot recall. All I know is if you object to my motion, you’ll b
e disbarred.”

  Peyton turned and with a whip of his robe, which also looked new, he returned to his table where he sat and stared blankly into space.

  “What are you going to do?” Olson asked Alex.

  “I must object,” said Alex. “I cannot have her sent back to Newgate.”

  “He’s serious. You’ll be disbarred.”

  Alex knew his law career might end that day. But he had no choice. He shrugged. “I must keep her out of that hellhole.”

  Olson stared at him appraisingly, then nodded. “Good luck,” he said, before going to the visitors’ gallery.

  Win wasn’t there, fortunately, but her brothers were, as well as the Duke of Lynwood. Olson was talking to them. As Alex watched, the duke looked at him for a moment, before turning his attention back to the solicitor.

  The clerk announced the arrival of the Lord Chief Justice. It was the Honorable Joseph Harris, the third son of a viscount. He was intelligent and fairly knowledgeable of the law. He’d be well aware of how uncommon it’d be to remand a female to Newgate, but Alex didn’t know if Harris was part of the conspiracy to convict Win. Harris’s greatest weakness was his inflated sense of self-importance. The man didn’t think he was a judge. He believed he was God.

  Everyone rose, then bowed before Harris took his seat.

  Alex noted that Sir Wilfred was seated at a table with Clive Pierce and Horace Warren, as well as two gentlemen Alex didn’t recognize.

  Peyton rose. “My learned Lord Chief Justice. I come before you today with a humble request. I would like Mrs. Winifred Pierce remanded to state custody at Newgate prison.”

  Harris turned his attention to Peyton. “I am confused, Mr. Peyton. Are you not Mrs. Pierce’s barrister?”

  “I am, my lord. And it is on her behalf that I make this request.”

  Alex turned to the gallery. Lord Ridgeway’s jaw was clenched so hard it must have ached. Lord Layton was rigid with anger and Lord James looked like he was barely restraining himself from thrashing Peyton.

  Peyton deserved to be thrashed. Even if he wasn’t complicit in whatever conspiracy was trying to convict Win, at least he should have enough honor to object to such horrid treatment of her. She would likely die in prison. But not if Alex could help it.

  Harris reviewed the brief in front of him. “I must confess my surprise, Mr. Peyton. I cannot imagine the lady herself would like to return to Newgate.”

  “My Lord Chief Justice, ladies rarely know what is good for them. She’d be a good deal safer in Newgate than she would be remaining at the Duke of Lynwood’s home. Mob violence is not so unheard of that it is beyond the realm of possibility that one might storm the house and murder her in her bed.”

  Alex rose. “My Lord Chief Justice?”

  “Mr. Lewis.”

  “Does my colleague have intelligence of such a threat to Mrs. Pierce’s life?”

  Given Peyton’s smirk, that was the opening he’d awaited. “Is my colleague saying he is concerned about Mrs. Pierce’s safety? Forgive me for asking, but isn’t it his job to get the woman hanged? Yet he’s afraid she’ll be jostled about by a crowd.”

  “If Mr. Peyton believes she’ll only be jostled about, I have to wonder why he feels the protection of Newgate is necessary,” said Alex.

  That stopped Peyton for a moment. He frowned a bit, then looked over to where Sir Wilfred was seated. Sir Wilfred returned his regard with a stony stare.

  Peyton finally found his voice. “Surely the Crown cannot object to Mrs. Pierce’s incarceration. It was, after all, where she was originally remanded before the Duke of Lynwood took it upon himself to have her removed.”

  The Duke of Lynwood. That gave Alex an idea.

  “I object to the insult you have levied against his grace.”

  That surprised Peyton. “What insult?”

  “The allegation that he cannot keep his guest safe. And since this mob violence you foresee would likely not focus solely upon Mrs. Pierce, I would go so far as to infer you don’t believe the Duke of Lynwood is capable of keeping his family safe. The duchess, his brothers and their wives. His niece and nephews. I believe you have insulted him to the extent where he’d be well within his rights to call you out – were dueling not outlawed, of course. As a barrister for the Crown, I cannot allow you to insult one of the country’s most influential peers.”

  Alex’s strategy was a good one. Peyton stood there, pale as parchment, wide-eyed and with his mouth opening and shutting wordlessly whilst his mind frantically searched for a way out of the hole he’d dug, then pushed himself into. Peyton, who had such grand plans for an alliance with the Duke of Lynwood, looked like he was in danger of becoming sick in front of him.

  Alex was about to sigh in relief when Sir Wilfred rose.

  “My Lord Chief Justice, if I may?” Sir Wilfred bowed to the court. It was highly irregular for him to address the court since he was not counsel of record, but he continued onward. “The issue is not his grace. I am quite certain he is more than capable of keeping his duchess and the others safe. But I cannot like the idea of a murderess sharing a roof with her grace and innocent children. We must return her to Newgate. It is the right thing to do.”

  “When you put it that way,” said Harris, “I suppose we have no choice but to…”

  “Do I not have a say in the matter?” asked the Duke of Lynwood from his seat in the gallery. He hadn’t raised his voice, but he had no trouble being heard. He was impeccably attired in a dark blue tailored jacket and looked rather bored by the proceedings.

  Harris nodded to the duke. “Yes, your grace. You may speak.”

  Lynwood remained seated, which Alex found interesting. Addressing the court without rising was an egregious lapse in manners. Then the duke did something even more shocking.

  “Send Lady Winifred back to Newgate,” he said.

  Alex couldn’t believe it. He knew of Lynwood’s reputation, the bills he’d championed in the House of Lords on behalf of women. It was inconceivable that he’d turn Win over to Newgate.

  And that’s when Alex realized something was afoot.

  For his part, Peyton looked greatly relieved that the duke wouldn’t be calling him out any time soon.

  “Your grace,” said Alex. “If you have something to say, I suggest you step into the box.” Witnesses before the court stood in the box near the Lord Chief Justice.

  “No.”

  “Pardon me?” asked Alex.

  “I shouldn’t have to stand in the box. I am, after all, a duke.”

  “Yes, but you are in the honorable Lord Chief Justice’s court.” Alex turned to see Harris eyeing Lynwood with interest.

  With great reluctance, the duke walked languidly to the box, then made a great show of taking out his handkerchief and wiping down the railing. He then threw it to a clerk. “Launder that and have it sent back to me.”

  “Your grace!” said Alex. “I will remind you this is a court of law and you must abide by its rules and customs.”

  “And I must remind you that I am a duke. Get on with your questions, man. I do not have all day.”

  “Why do you wish Lady Winifred to be remanded to Newgate? It is my understanding that you removed her from the gaol to stay at your home.”

  “Yes, but it has been very inconvenient. Especially with all her family around. She has an eight-year-old sister who has been crying her eyes out, worried about what is to become of Lady Win. It is quite grating.”

  “What about my six-year-old daughter?” cried Lord James from the gallery. “She is without a mother and needs her aunt.”

  Alex didn’t know if they’d planned it ahead of time, or were simply following the duke’s lead, but Win’s brothers and Lynwood were doing their best to play on the court’s sympathies. Alex knew very well that while young Miss Emerson had lost her mother, Miss Wallace seemed to be doing a fine job of caring for her. Though he supposed Win would care for the girl like she was her own daughter.

  There was a th
ought. Win with a child. Win with his child. It could never happen, of course. But if they were to marry, he could picture her cradling his child to her bosom….

  The duke cleared his throat. “I do not have all day.”

  “How can you do this, Lynwood?” called Colin from the gallery. “She’s our sister. A kinder soul you would never meet…”

  He was cut off by Sir Wilfred. “I wonder what Lord Layton has to say in the matter. Perhaps he would like to state his exact interest in the case. For the record, is he or isn’t he a relation of Mrs. Pierce?”

  Now Alex recognized one of the men with Sir Wilfred. He was Simon Chilcott, Layton’s cousin. The papers had been speculating that he was trying to have himself declared the true earl. If Layton confessed to being Win’s brother, Chilcott would be one step closer to his goal.

  For his part, Layton didn’t hesitate. He stood up and was about to address the court, when Alex interrupted.

  “We have strayed from the matter at hand,” he said. “I will thank the members of the gallery to refrain from speaking and remember where they are. They are guests of the Lord Chief Justice and are subject to the rules and customs of this court.”

  “I am subject to no such things,” said Lynwood. “This entire proceeding has grown tiresome. I am telling the court to do as I say and get the woman out of my home.”

  “You do not give orders to the court,” said Alex. “It is the other way around.”

  “I do not recognize the court’s authority over me,” said Lynwood, as he flicked imaginary lint from his jacket. “Especially this one. It is poorly administered, the decisions make no sense and…”

  “Enough!” ordered Harris, pounding on the desk. “You will not say one more word against me, I mean the court.”

  Lynwood’s only response was a shrug.

  “You are very fortunate I do not have you jailed for contempt, your grace.”

  “I want that woman removed from my home and sent back to Newgate.”

  “Well, she will not be!” declared Harris smugly. “Lady Winifred will remain at your home until her trial. And if anyone even tries to remand her to Newgate, I shall have that person thrown in gaol in her stead. Am I understood?”