The Reckless Barrister

by April Kihlstrom

“Calumny!”

  “Is it?” he asked, straightening, as if unwilling to face her so closely any more. “Then how did so many people get hurt?”

  “They were hurt,” Emily protested, “because the men trying to stop them were cruel.”

  He opened his mouth then closed it again. He also closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

  When he opened his eyes again, he asked, wearily, “And what did you, or Sir Thomas, suppose that I might be able to do on behalf of your friends?”

  “Tell us how to change the laws.”

  “What?”

  The word came out almost as a squawk of protest. He gaped at her, he positively gaped. Emily took advantage of his surprise. She pressed her point before he could have time to object.

  “You heard me correctly, sir. I wish to know how the law might be changed.”

  “Which law?” he asked, patently bewildered.

  “The law which states that mill owners have the right to do as they wish with their mills in England, regardless of the cost or danger to those they employ, of course,” she replied, just as though she believed he ought to understand without her even saying a word.

  He was not, she could see, best pleased.

  Chapter 2

  Trouble. Philip Langford prided himself upon avoiding trouble. Unlike his father who had actively sought it out. And now here he was with a young woman in his office, a young woman who wanted him to tell her how to change the law. What on earth was Sir Thomas thinking, sending her to him? When he saw him, he would have to remember to ask, Philip thought grimly.

  Meanwhile, Miss Ashbourne wanted to change the law. That was all. Just change the law. And Sir Thomas had apparently encouraged her in this nonsense. Well, he was as idealistic as his father had been, but that did not mean Philip had to be an equal fool. He clenched his teeth and clasped his hands behind his back. He leaned back on his heels. He stared at Miss Ashbourne. He even smiled at her. Through his clenched teeth.

  Finally, when he had command of his voice again, he said, “Sit down, Miss Ashbourne.”

  She was so astonished at his peremptory tone of command that she did as he said, and then seemed surprised to find herself in the chair. She started to rise again but he gave her no chance. He came around his desk and stood over her so that if she had tried to stand, she would have to come in intimate contact with his body.

  “Miss Ashbourne. You speak of changing the law as if it were a little thing. Something to be done at the whim of any gentleman or lady who so chooses. Well, it is not! It is a living thing which has evolved in the way that best suits our nation.”

  She had courage. He had to give her that. Even as he stood towering over her, Miss Ashbourne fought back. Her voice trembled with patent outrage as she replied.

  “I do not think it a little thing, Mr. Langford. I know full well what I ask. But it must be done. The law, which even you concede evolves and changes, does not best suit our nation. It best suits a few men who either by virtue of their birth or their good fortune in acquiring property, have the means to influence those who make and change the laws. It does not best suit the vast majority of people who live in this country and are abused in the name of the law every day of their lives!”

  Philip could not deny the tug of sympathy he felt toward what she said. It was no more than he had thought himself, upon occasion. Still, his father had been just such a foolish idealist, taken advantage of time and time again, his parents ostracized by their friends for his outspoken views. Philip had watched it all and vowed to be far more clear headed when it was his turn. And he was. Now he wanted to shake the girl and make her realize just how impossible her notions were.

  And yet, despite himself, Philip envied her passion, her conviction. He wished, just for a moment, that he possessed a little of her certainty. He also, he discovered, perversely wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss away the anger and see if there was any other sort of passion behind those wide blue eyes.

  But it was all nonsense! Philip shook his head to dismiss these odd thoughts. He must be cruel in order to be kind, he decided. He had to cure Miss Ashbourne of this obsession before it truly landed her in the briars. He began to clap. Slowly. Sardonically. With no way to mistake his sarcasm when he finally spoke.

  “Bravo, Miss Ashbourne. You could be making speeches in Parliament. If you were a man. But you are not. And these are matters best left to men.”

  He braced himself for her response.

  “Men!”

  She snorted her disgust. Philip felt his sympathy shrivel. He raised his eyebrows.

  “You have something against men, Miss Ashbourne?” he asked politely.

  She closed her eyes. And slowly opened them again. Then she rose to her feet and it was Philip who gave way, at the last moment, so that they did not touch one another.

  She had fire in her eyes, did Miss Ashbourne. Not by one jot did she seem to be intimidated by anything he had to say. Nor did she seem to care that tendrils of blond hair were escaping her bonnet.

  Again she spoke without the slightest trace of hesitation in her voice. “Have I anything against men, Mr. Langford? Indeed, I do. Most of the men I know are fools! They are far less well informed on matters than I am. And yet I am expected to defer to them and to their opinions simply by virtue of their having been born men! Surely, sir, you cannot expect me to like it?”

  Philip could not resist. Without the slightest quiver of laughter in his voice, or trace of smile on his face, he said, “I begin to see, Miss Ashbourne, why you are still Miss Ashbourne.”

  He thought she would rise to the bait. But she did not. Instead she swallowed hard, tilted her chin upward, and said, “That is a matter for another day’s discussion, Mr. Langford. The subject at hand is changing the law. And as much as I dislike having to put so important a matter in the care of a man, it seems I have no choice.”

  Philip reached out. She flinched and took a step away from him. He let his hands fall to his side. He drew in a breath and said, in even, measured tones, “Miss Ashbourne, I do not know how to convey any more clearly to you that what you ask is impossible. Please let me escort you to your carriage and send you home. You must have family who are worried about you.”

  “My family is none of your concern and I did not come in my own carriage. I walked.”

  “You walked?” Philip demanded, taken aback. “Where, then, is your maid? Surely she should be in here with us?”

  “I did not bring a maid. Or a footman. Or any other sort of encumbrance. I simply came myself and yes, I walked. When I am ready to leave, I shall walk home again.”

  Now he understood what he was dealing with and Philip let out a sigh of relief. The poor girl was mad, simply mad. She must have escaped from her family and it would be only right and proper that he return her to them. That must be why Sir Thomas had sent her to him. If, indeed, he had. It was because he could trust Philip to look out for the girl if she managed to slip her keepers and come looking for a barrister. For Philip had no doubt she would have done so even had she not had a recommendation from Sir Thomas.

  Now that he understood, Philip was able to keep his voice gentle, and even kind, as he said, “Come, Miss Ashbourne, I shall escort you home. You must be tired.”

  She regarded him with some asperity. “I am not tired, Mr. Langford. I wish to talk about the law!”

  “And so we shall,” he agreed, spreading his hands wide. “We shall talk in the carriage as I take you home.”

  Suddenly a hint of humor lit up her eyes and she said, tilting her head to one side, “Aren’t you afraid that it will look most improper, Mr. Langford?”

  “Nonsense!” he said heartily. “It is no more than I would do for any of my clients.”

  “I see. Very well, if it is the only way I can get you to discuss legal matters, then so be it. Shall we go, Mr. Langford?”

  He bowed and silently congratulated himself on handling the situation so neatl
y. He would have her home in a trice. And then she would be the responsibility of her family again and not his.

  So caught up was he in these self-congratulatory thoughts, that Philip almost walked straight into Miss Ashbourne as she paused in his doorway.

  She looked up at him as she said, dryly, “You may escort me home, Mr. Langford, but any attempt to divert our journey by way of Bedlam will result in great anger, on my part, and prove futile on yours.”

  And then, before he could even begin to collect his thoughts sufficiently to answer, she turned on her heel and pushed open the door. Philip made haste to follow her.

  * * * *

  Men! Emily thought scathingly. Stupid, stupid men! But they were the ones with all the power. It was really most unfair.

  And yet, she could not deny that it was a comfort to have Mr. Langford, as provoking as he was, by her side as they passed through the outer office and the courtyard. She was met by even more jeers than when she arrived and she shuddered to think what it would have been like had she had to run this gauntlet without his support.

  Indeed, Mr. Langford seemed to have the trick of quelling the wildest of the lot with a quirk of his eyebrows and a quick shake of his head. Emily did not begin to understand how he could do so, but she was grateful nonetheless.

  And certainly he had no difficulty hailing a carriage to drive them back to her lodgings. Which was a bitter contrast to her own useless efforts some hours before.

  Ought she to admit to Mr. Langford that she had walked to his office out of necessity? Or let him continue to think her so contrary, so determined that she would do almost anything in pursuit of her goal?

  Perhaps the latter. It would keep him from thinking he understood her and, in Emily’s experience, when a man thought he understood a woman, it was always unfortunate for the poor woman!

  Abruptly she became aware that Mr. Langford was regarding her with both impatience and disapproval. “Your direction?” he repeated for what was obviously at least the second or third time.

  Emily gave it to him quickly and noted the frown as he recognized she was not lodging in one of the better parts of town. It was, she told herself, none of his affair and she could not, moments later, when they were settled in the hired carriage, understand why she took the trouble to explain.

  “I had only been to London once before,” Emily said, biting her lower lip. “And I did not stay very long. Certainly not long enough to learn which parts of town were fashionable and which were not.”

  But it didn’t help. Now he regarded her with even more astonishment than before. “Surely it was not,” he replied, in appalled accents, “your place to choose a lodging, here in London?”

  Emily looked away. How honest ought she to be? She was tempted to lie. To say she had mistaken her words. That of course Aunt Agatha had chosen their lodgings.

  But when Emily looked again into his clear gray eyes, she found herself telling the truth. “When I decided to come to London I thought it best to present my aunt and my father with a fait accompli. I wrote to a house agent and he sent me a number of suggestions. I hired this house, sight unseen and only then informed my aunt and my father of my plans. And it worked! My father allowed me to come and my aunt accompanied me.”

  “But such an address!” Mr. Langford persisted.

  She didn’t have to explain, but somehow Emily found herself doing so. “I thought I had remembered the street we stayed on last time,” she said softly, “but it seems I was mistaken.”

  Emily paused, looked out the grimy window of the hack, and took a deep breath before she continued.

  “It was only after we arrived and found the sort of place to which we had committed ourselves that I realized the street I remembered was just a few letters different. But those few letters were the difference between a truly respectable address and shabby gentility.”

  Again she paused and this time her chin came up in an oddly endearing gesture of defiance. She looked Mr. Langford squarely in the eyes as she said, “But it does not matter, sir, where we are lodged. What matters is what brought me to London. The laws must be changed!”

  He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness and while his expression was carefully neutral, Emily nevertheless had the impression he was laughing at her. His words all but confirmed it.

  “But my dear Miss Ashbourne, surely you understand that Parliament makes the laws? I, and my colleagues, are barristers. What could you possibly have hoped to accomplish by coming to me? Why on earth did Sir Thomas think there was any point in you doing so?”

  Emily scarcely hesitated. “I hoped to find men, or at least one man, of principle and intelligence. One with knowledge of both the law and the men who make it. I hoped to find someone who would tell me if there were a way to challenge the laws through the courts. And if not, how one might best go about bringing change through the Parliament. Sir Thomas recommended you.

  “I was patently misled by the example of my late uncle, who also studied the law and was a good friend to Sir Thomas. He was the most intelligent person, man or woman, I have ever known. And this is just the sort of battle he would have relished. Unfortunately”—cursing her weakness, Emily had to pause to surreptitiously dash a tear from her eye—”he died two years ago and is not here to help me now.”

  Before she realized his intention, Mr. Langford took her hand gently in his and said, “I am sorry, Miss Ashbourne. Your uncle sounds like a very fine man and I am sorry never to have known him. And sorry he is not here to guide you now. I think even he, however, might have been daunted by what you wish to do.”

  At these last words, Emily, who had begun to feel unaccountably mellow toward Mr. Langford, felt her temper rise again and she pulled her hand free.

  “Perhaps so, Mr. Langford,” she said in her most disdainful voice, “but he would at least have had the courage to try to help me. Unfortunately, Sir Thomas neglected to tell me you were a coward.”

  He flinched as though she had slapped his face and his expression turned cold and harsh. Emily shrank back against the cushions and reflected that perhaps it was not the wisest of moves to insult and provoke a man when one was cooped up in a moving carriage with him.

  “My dear Miss Ashbourne,” he said evenly, “I regret that I am not able to measure up to this paragon of a man and of a barrister that your uncle apparently was. I can only advise you to concede I, and all of my fellow barristers, are hopelessly flawed and go back to wherever it is you came from before you suffer any further disillusionment and cause any further trouble in the process of doing so!”

  Now it was Emily’s turn to flinch. To her chagrin she felt her eyes fill with more unwanted moisture. She would not, she vowed, give Mr. Langford the satisfaction of seeing her dash her tears away.

  Instead she sat stiffly erect and turned her head as if she found the passing view to be of great fascination. She blinked fiercely, trying to clear her eyes.

  Over her shoulder she said, “I shall take your advice under due consideration, Mr. Langford, but I must warn you that I cannot promise to follow it.”

  That should have done it. That should have been enough to set a wall firmly between them. Instead Emily heard a muttered curse and then felt two hands grasp her shoulders in a scandalously familiar way and force her to turn and look at Mr. Langford.

  For a moment she half hoped, half expected him to make some sort of conciliatory gesture. And there was something else, smoldering in his eyes, that half made her think he meant to kiss her.

  Instead he said, biting off each word, “Miss Ashbourne, you are the most provoking woman it has ever been my misfortune to encounter and all I can say is that it is a very good thing we are almost at our destination or I would be tempted to halt the carriage and abandon you here and now.”

  “Feel perfectly free to do so,” Emily said with a dignity that was destroyed by a tiny sound of dismay she could not suppress.

  Abruptly he let out his breath and let go of her shoulders. Now
he leaned back against the squabs. “No, Miss Ashbourne,” he said as he shook his head. “I said I would see you home and I meant it. Once you are in your family’s care again you will be, I thank God, no longer my responsibility, in any way!”

  Emily opened her mouth to retaliate, but the carriage came to an abrupt halt and Mr. Langford immediately opened the door and hopped out. He turned to hold out a hand to help her down and she could not help thinking, with a sniff of disdain, that it would be very hard to tell which of them was the more relieved to be rid of the other!

  Chapter 3

  Philip felt his temper to be on a very short rein though, at the moment, he could not have said whether he was angrier at the woman beside him or at Sir Thomas. Fortunately, in moments, he would relinquish Miss Ashbourne and he need never see the provoking creature again. Then he was going to find Sir Thomas and ask what the devil he had been thinking! Philip rapped impatiently on the front door, wondering why the servants were taking so long to answer.

  And when someone did finally come, the woman who opened the door bore a marked resemblance to Miss Ashbourne. Her first words confirmed his suspicions and Philip began to wonder if perhaps madness ran in the family.

  She peered at him, saying sharply, “Come in, come in. I am Miss Jarrod. No doubt you’ve come about the bills. I’m afraid I have no head for numbers, but my niece can sort it all out when she returns.”

  Philip closed his eyes. It only wanted that—to be mistaken for a tradesman!

  She made it even worse when she added, with a note of hope in her voice, “Or perhaps you are the applicant for the position of butler?”

  A servant? She thought he might be a servant? Philip opened his mouth to give the woman a blistering setdown and felt rather than saw Miss Ashbourne hastily step in front of him.

  “Aunt Agatha! If you would but wear your eyeglasses you would not mistake a gentleman for a servant! Or a tradesman. In any event, what are you doing answering the door?” she demanded. “Where is Pinkley?”