The Barrister's Challenge: Sweet Regency Romance (Heirs of Berkshire Book 2)

by Karen Lynne

  The Barrister’s Challenge

  Heirs of Berkshire book two

  Karen Lynne

  A Barrister’s Challenge

  Heirs of Berkshire Book Two

  Copyright © 2020 by Karen Evelyn.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review, without the prior written consent from the author. For more information, address the author at:

  karen@karenlynneauthor.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Any likeness to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Characters and storyline are products of the author’s imagination.

  Rev. 2

  Contents

  Other Books by Karen Lynne

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Books by Karen Lynne

  Brides of Somerset Series

  Heirs of Berkshire Series

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  Chapter 1

  Walter Longman splashed, spattering mud and grime into the air, as his carriage cut through central London.

  The rain had been relentless these past few weeks. As miserable as it was, he supposed it reflected his mood as of late. He peered out the carriage window at the London streets, trying to ignore the pain in his heart when he dwelt on what he’d lost. He’d thought he’d put Patience Hawthorn out of his heart when their engagement failed because of her parents’ refusal. He realized now he’d always held onto a small hope that things would turn around once he established himself as a respectable barrister.

  Instead, he’d had to watch from afar, reading snippets of her goings-on and rumors of a betrothal to another. Still, she haunted his thoughts constantly.

  The carriage came to a stop near Lincoln’s Inn, the inn of court in which he belonged, forcing him to pull his musing away from the lady. Today was an important one for his career. He was on the list to be one of the chosen barristers to take part in a large case within the Circuit Courts. Should he win, he’d establish credibility and a larger wage.

  Walter stepped out onto the street, narrowly missing a large puddle, before he paid the driver. The carriage rolled away, horse’s hooves clacking as Walter’s eyes swept the street. Parasols protected the delicate heads of the women, and the men ducked forward, letting the rain droplets fall on the brim of their hats. Walter had donned his own black cloak and top hat, keeping it low over his eyes.

  As he took his first steps toward his offices, a blue bonnet caught his attention. He turned, watching as a woman passed near him, clutching a reticule. Her auburn curls escaped under the bonnet’s confines.

  Walter’s heart leaped into his throat. It couldn’t be—was it? He had to know.

  Ducking his head down, he followed the woman, trying to glimpse her face. The blue gown and bonnet reminded him of soft hands, whispered promises, and full pink lips.

  She stopped at the corner of the street, fidgeting in her reticule. The curve of her shoulders, her pale neck—Walter was only yards away from her now, so close to reaching out and delicately touching her elbow.

  As she turned, Walter stopped in his tracks. The face was unfamiliar, spotted with dark freckles, the chin too pointed, lips thin. She was not Patience.

  His heart deflated, and he scowled at the wet, filthy ground. Thunder rumbled and the sprinkle of rain quickly became a deluge. People hurried around him, trying to get to their destinations without becoming soaked through. The woman quickly crossed the street, meeting up with a man who wrapped an arm around her, pulling her under a protecting umbrella.

  Walter remained frozen, his jaw clenched, willing her memory away. He felt people brush against his shoulders, trying to get past him.

  “Mr. Longman!” The voice was loud in Walter’s ears.

  He turned, lowering his eyes to a man who stood a foot shorter than he.

  The man raised his thick gray brows.

  “Aiming to catch a cold?” When Walter didn’t respond, he reached up to pat Walter on the back. “Let me walk with you.”

  He didn’t argue. Mr. Welch had been a mentor to Walter, taking him on when no one else would. He had quickly become like a second father. Together, they walked toward Lincoln’s Inn, the rain hissing past their ears.

  Stepping inside, Walter removed his wet hat and shook it off.

  Mr. Welch chuckled, clutching the top of his cane.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were quite turned around back there, Mr. Longman.”

  “Thought I spotted an old acquaintance.”

  Walter removed his cloak, trying to sound nonchalant, but winced at his own words. Friend… affianced… acquaintance. Funny how relationships changed. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts again.

  Mr. Welch snorted. “Get to work, you heart-sick loon.”

  Walter frowned, but the well-respected barrister only chuckled.

  “You think I don’t notice how you mope around? Clearly, you’ve been jilted. Take my advice—stay a bachelor as long as you can.” Mr. Welch tapped his cane against Walter’s ankles and winked before moving down the hall to his office.

  Walter clenched his jaw as he retreated to his own office, guarded by a heavy oak door with his name on a gold-trimmed plaque. He hung his coat and hat, then sat behind his desk, trying to sort his thoughts. It wasn’t working. Patience had captured almost every moment of his thoughts since finding out she’d gone to the east end of London only a week ago. He scowled as he remembered Lord Berkshire, Patience’s intended, sitting directly across from him in this very room, accusing him of intentionally putting Patience in harm’s way.

  Frustration flared in Walter’s breast. The very thought! Lord Berkshire didn’t know how lucky he was to be courting her. It still hurt that Patience was with another man, and he was beside himself at knowing how to wrench his thoughts away from the woman.

  He extracted a file documenting the case he hoped to be assigned, riffling through the papers. He’d almost memorized every detail, trying to purge his thoughts of Patience.

  Hugh Vanderbilt had been implicated in murder. Should Walter get the case, he would prove Mr. Vanderbilt’s guilt. The man they accused him of murdering had been the heir to the Viscount of Highfield. Walter had met the future Viscount once, and in his mind, the world was better off without the man. It would be tricky, but if Walter succeeded, it would assure his career. He’d become more sought after by ladies who wanted a comfortable living.

  He didn’t blame Patience for her parents’ refusal of his proposal. But it still irked him that she leaped into this year’s season, and only weeks later found herself the most eligible bachelor in London.

  She claimed she didn’t care for money when Walter courted her. It looked like things had changed. Her being with an earl only added insult to injury, clarifying that she ha
d set her sights much higher than he could attain.

  Hang it, Walter thought, swiping a hand through his hair. Enough. He would not let thoughts of Patience impede his career. He banished her from his mind once and for all, spending the next hour pouring over the case notes.

  Walter pulled his watch out of his pocket and glanced at it, letting it dangle without putting it back. He leaped from his chair, gathering the file and his fountain pens before rushing out of his office.

  He was about to be late.

  He worked his way down the hall until he found the meeting room where a handful of barristers vying for the case gathered around a table, shuffling through the same notes that Walter had just been immersed in.

  Mr. Welch patted an empty seat next to him, and Walter sat, eyeing his competition. Three of them would be chosen, and he was the most inexperienced of them all. He swallowed, trying to keep his confidence high. Mr. Bamber sat across from him at the long, polished table, looking relaxed, grinning at his competitors the way a fox grins at plump chickens. He caught Walter’s gaze, and his grin spread wider.

  Walter held the man’s gaze, refusing to blink. Mr. Bamber’s eyebrows arched, accepting the challenge.

  The lead barrister, Mr. Conrad, entered the room, black robes ruffling behind him, his wig askew.

  “Gentlemen,” he paused, taking a seat at the head of the table. “We have many interested parties and not much time.” He slammed a stack of papers onto the table. “Mr. Vanderbilt’s case. Who would like to be on the team?”

  Walter stood, along with four other men his senior, including Mr. Bamber.

  Mr. Conrad’s weathered gray eyes swept over the room. “Briefly describe why you would excel at the case. Mr. Bamber, you begin first.”

  Mr. Bamber’s dark eyes glittered. “I have been a member of this council for fifteen years. I’ve undertaken the most difficult of cases and always succeed. I am the most qualified among us to take on the case.”

  Walter couldn’t believe the man’s overconfidence. He looked to Mr. Conrad to see if he was at all impressed. His gaze was fixed steadily on Mr. Bamber.

  “Bamber, I recall several cases you’ve lost. Yet you claim to have won them all.”

  Mr. Bamber’s smile grew forced. His pride had been wounded.

  Mr. Conrad turned to a middle-aged man Walter knew as Mr. Mosby, a well-respected barrister. He looked from Walter to Mr. Bamber, then chuckled, sitting.

  “I think I will sit this one out, actually.” Mr. Mosby smiled.

  All eyes turned to Walter and Mr. Welch. Walter swallowed, forcing himself to remain calm. Patience must have rattled him more than he thought. Mr. Welch gave him an encouraging nod.

  “I am the youngest among you.” Walter looked to Mr. Conrad but kept his head held high. “But I have gained respect quickly on this council. I’ve taken on smaller cases, but each one had been a success. I get to the core of a case, and fight for the truth. It’s time to focus my talents on something bigger, if you’ll allow me.” He dipped his head humbly in Mr. Conrad’s direction.

  Mr. Welch spoke up, holding a finger in the air. “I second the motion. Mr. Longman has been most attentive this past year. I have confidence in his abilities to handle this case.”

  Mr. Conrad nodded, his finger tapping his gray beard before he stopped and adjusted his wig, skewing it the other direction. “Very well, then. I will assign you, Mr. Welch, to work alongside Mr. Longman on this case.” His gaze turned to a sour Mr. Bamber. “If Mr. Longman cannot handle it, I will reassign you to be the lead, Bamber. Are we all clear?”

  The men in the room uttered a sound of agreement and then adjourned.

  As Walter strode triumphantly out of the office, Mr. Bamber caught up to him.

  “Well done, my friend, though I hope you understand what kind of case you’ve gotten yourself into. It’s not for the faint of heart.”

  Walter forced a smile. “I suppose time will tell.” He hastened away from Mr. Bamber, heading back to his office to review the case note again.

  He picked up the paper he had purchased that morning, flipping it open to peruse the political atmosphere, but his eyes caught the name of Lord Berkshire. He stilled, reading it carefully. Patience’s name stood out like a beacon that his heart seemed irrevocably drawn to.

  Lord Berkshire and Patience’s courtship had not ended in marriage? Patience taken from London early, hastily, her name muddied? His heart pounded in his chest as he continued to read. Scandal had followed her back to the country.

  Walter knew instantly that her misguided adventure in traveling to the slums of the east end of London had something to do with it. Lord Berkshire had burst into his office, accusing him, of all people, of sending her there. The man had seemed to care about her safety. Did it end there? Was Lord Berkshire so upset at Patience’s careless behavior that it would take his affections away from her? If it had, the man was a fool.

  His head throbbed. He’d been distracted today. His attentions divided. The woman didn’t deserve to take up so much space in his heart. He winced, shoving the thought from his mind. He couldn’t bother himself with Patience any longer. He needed all his mental faculties to prove a man’s guilt, and he was more determined now than ever to do so. But the things he’d read made little sense. Something was terribly wrong.

  Chapter 2

  Patience looked to her mother, imploring her to see reason. She didn’t know why she tried. Her mother had always been unyielding with anything having to do with Walter Longman.

  “Why can’t I attend Juliana’s wedding?”

  “Because she is the cause of the trouble we’re experiencing, and the reason we have returned to the country. I absolutely forbid you to attend their wedding.” Her mother sniffed.

  Patience received an invitation from her dear friend Juliana, inviting her to her upcoming wedding, and she desperately wanted to attend. She’d been in the country for a month now.

  “If we had not fled, we could have weathered their engagement. I have refused to marry the earl. It was perfectly acceptable, and a lady’s prerogative, to refuse a gentleman's proposal.”

  “Not to an earl. I don’t understand you,” her mother complained. “You would have been a countess. Instead, you prefer a tradesman.”

  “Walter is not a tradesman. It is perfectly honorable to study the law.” Patience knew it still upset her mother that Juliana and her newly intended tricked her parents into believing the earl was pursuing Patience.

  It had been a ruse they had all agreed upon to get society to give Lord Berkshire some breathing room while he was grieving his father’s loss, and a way for Patience's mother to stop nagging her about accepting a suitable offer of marriage, one her mother would approve.

  It had brought Juliana and Lord Berkshire together. They were blissfully happy and preparing for a wedding. Her parents returned to the country in disgrace after her mother had eavesdropped at the door, thus uncovering their scheme.

  Patience didn’t mind, except that Walter was still in London, believing she had abandoned their love. Although she had tried, they had resolved nothing.

  Patience bit her tongue. It wouldn’t help to provoke her mother.

  “Juliana is the kindest of friends. She was trying to help. We hoped you would understand my feelings for Walter.”

  “Ha!” her mother's attention returned to her needlepoint.

  Patience turned to her father. His eyes fixed within the pages of his book. “Papa, won’t you let me attend?”

  Her father sank deeper into his chair, his book obscuring his face.

  “Listen to your mama, Patience.”

  Why did she try? Her father always sided with her mother. He was cowed by his wife, afraid to stand up to her demands.

  Patience’s mouth clamped shut. She folded Juliana’s invitation and stood. Walking through the door, briskly moving up the stairs to her room.

  Closing the door behind her, she grabbed a pillow and tossed it across the room with a
low rumble. It hit the wall and fell to the floor with an unsatisfactory thud.

  Patience collapsed on her bed, staring up at the pale silk canopy. She hated it here, hated her mother’s control over her. She loathed writing Juliana to inform her she would not be attending her wedding and wondered if she could find a way to leave, even without her parents’

  permission. There was no use reasoning with her mother, who wouldn’t be persuaded to let her marry the man she loved. Couldn’t she see that attending the wedding would silence the gossip?

  Could she not remember her youth? But her mother had never been young, she was sure of it.

  Walter invaded her thoughts as he invariably did. It hurt to know he was in London, working hard at a respectable profession, while she was back here in Wallingford.

  Patience wondered if Walter had received the letter she’d written explaining the truth about her and Lord Berkshire. He hadn’t responded.

  Or had he?

  Her mother could have taken a letter without her knowledge. Her heart sank at the possibility. It was something she would do.

  Did he still think of her? Long for her the way she did for him? She hugged a pillow, feeling her throat constrict as hot tears stung her eyes. Unable to sit still a moment longer, she moved to her secretary. Drawing a fresh piece of paper, she picked up her pen. Surely, he wouldn’t think ill of her for writing. He had asked for her hand. Had it not been for her parents’ refusal, she would be married to the gentleman she loved.

  Hesitation hung as she bit at her bottom lip. She carefully penned, “My dear Walter…”