“Perhaps I should ask Lady Fanshaw if you can borrow her walking cane.”
She tapped his shoulder with her fan. “I might feel my age tonight but I’m not quite in my dotage yet.”
“Apparently not,” he said, casting a glower in the direction of her stalwart admirers.
“Ah, Grantley, there you are.” Lord Avington, a well-respected defender of the working classes, clapped him on the shoulder. “That was a good result this afternoon.”
“Thank you. I believe you know Lady Felicity.”
“Indeed. Your servant, ma’am.”
Flick bobbed a curtsey. “Lord Avington.”
“What’s all this I hear about the Cuthbert case?” Avington asked.
“What do you hear about it?” Darius wouldn’t put it past Jackson to set the rumour mill in action, just to prod him into making a decision.
“Is that Lord Cuthbert’s son?” Flick asked. “The one who took to robbing innocent people for sport?”
“That’s the one, Lady Felicity. Dreadful young scamp deserves everything that comes his way. Word is that you’re planning to defend him, but I knew that couldn’t be right.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Flick said before Darius could answer. “Darius wouldn’t waste his talents on such disreputable people.”
“Everyone deserves the best defence they can get,” Darius said mildly.
“You’re not actually thinking of it, are you?” Flick looked decidedly put out.
Avington beamed his approval. “Well said, Lady Felicity.”
“I’m not sure how this rumour started—”
“It would go against everything you hold most dear,” Flick said, “and I would not admire you for it.”
Darius quirked a brow. “Even I have to eat sometimes, Flick.”
“Lady Felicity.” Price bowed before her. “The quadrille you promised me is just forming up.”
“So it is.” She placed her hand on Price’s outstretched arm. “Pray, excuse me, gentlemen.”
Avington drifted away also and Darius was at liberty to watch Flick dance with grace and lightness. He didn’t at all like the way she was smiling at Price, the damned impudent pup. Absorbed, he didn’t realize at first that someone else had approached him.
“Mr. Grantley. How nice.”
Darius turned and inwardly groaned. It was Flick’s stepmother, looking beautiful but deadly in a lilac creation that made the very best of a good body, as she very probably knew. Darius had never discovered why Flick disliked her so much but certainly shared that sentiment. Not long before the old marquess passed away, Darius and Rob had been home from university and Cynthia Forster had made a blatant pass at Darius. He had been both embarrassed and repelled by her supposition that he would entertain her.
“Lady Denby.” He bowed. “I was not aware that you were in town.”
“I’m passing through.”
Darius wondered whom she was passing through with. Being as close to Flick as she was, Lady Bishop wasn’t likely to have invited Cynthia.
“I’m here with dear Lord Osbourne,” she said, as though reading his mind. Osbourne was an elderly dissipate, too influential to be ignored. They made ideal bedfellows, in Darius’s view, which is probably where they conducted most of their conversations.
“Ah, I see.” Darius inclined his head, refusing to make small talk with someone he disliked so much. “Please excuse me.”
“Flick looks very well tonight,” she said, apparently not ready to let Darius go. “Although that gown is perhaps a little outré.”
“If that is your opinion then it’s in the minority.”
“I wouldn’t have her gain a reputation for being fast.”
Darius merely raised a brow and said nothing.
“I’m a widow, Mr. Grantley.” And when you weren’t? “There’s a difference.”
“Evidently.”
“She lacks a mother’s influence in her life.”
Darius choked on his champagne. “Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing,” he said when the power of speech was restored to him.
“I was hoping to obtain a word with Flick anyway so it’s fortuitous that’s she’s here. I shall speak with her and give her my advice on her wardrobe.”
Darius knew he ought to let the matter drop. “You imagine that she requires your advice, or would welcome it if offered?”
“All young girls require the advice of a more experienced lady, even if they don’t always realize it.”
“Perhaps you’re right.”
Lady Denby’s attention was attracted by others less particular than Darius. He watched her walk away with relief. He intended to warn Flick of her presence, but when the dance came to an end she was immediately surrounded by others. Then Hollingsworth led her back to the dance floor and the moment was lost.
Darius stood at the edge of the room, watching Flick laughing at something Hollingsworth said to her, and died a little inside. What hope was there for him? He ought to give up all aspirations regarding Flick and concentrate on his career. The problem was, without Flick’s unbridled approval for what he was attempting to achieve, his career seemed dreary and rather pointless. He needed someone at his side who shared his values, understood what drove him and supported him regardless. Flick was the only person he’d found who could fulfil that role but, he conceded with heaviness of heart, she was decidedly out of his league.
The dance ended and the musicians tuned their instruments for a waltz. How Darius would adore to waltz with Flick again, as he had at Hal’s wedding. It was impossible, of course. She was a young, unmarried girl and this was London, albeit out of season. Dancing at the Hall had been a different matter. He allowed a wistful sigh to escape his lips, one which Lady Bishop must have heard.
“I have no objection to your waltzing with Flick, if you wish to.” She chuckled. “And I suspect that you do.”
“I wouldn’t wish to damage her reputation.”
“Nonsense, this is hardly Almack’s.” Lady Bishop, Darius was fast discovering, had eyes like a hawk, was a blatant matchmaker and an out-and-out romantic. “You are virtually a brother to her, even if that’s not the role you would prefer to fulfil.”
“Thank you.” Darius bowed. “Perhaps I ought to rescue her. I wouldn’t put it past Hollingsworth to try and trick her into standing up with him.”
“You don’t need to justify yourself to me.” She chuckled and gave him a little push. “Just go!”
Darius went. He shouldered his way through the throng surrounding Flick without bothering to apologize for jostling them and bowed before her.
“My dance, I believe.”
“Oh, thank you, Darius, but I couldn’t. I was just explaining to Lord Hollingsworth that I’m not permitted to waltz without permission.”
He pinioned her with a speaking look that she met with a polite expression of enquiry. “With me, you are.”
“Oh, am I?” She appeared surprised. “Then presumably the same rule applies to Lord Hollingsworth and he did ask me first.”
“I’m sorry to say that Lady Bishop’s amnesty doesn’t extend to Hollingsworth.” Darius probably didn’t sound or look the slightest bit sorry. “I regret disappointing you, Flick, but if you want to dance so very badly then you’ll have to put up with me.”
“Very well then, I suppose you’ll do. Excuse me, gentlemen.”
“I say, Grantley,” Hollingsworth complained. “What gives you the right to barge in?”
“Seniority,” he said smugly as he swept Flick into his arms.
“Why am I allowed to dance with you but not any of them?” she asked.
“Sorry if I appear second best but it’s Lady Bishop’s decision. She thinks of me as your brother, you see, and that means you’re quite safe in my care.”
“Am I?” Her eyes glistened with something he couldn’t quite identify.
“Are you what?” Darius pretended not to understand her.
“Safe. Is that how you think o
f me? As your sister?”
All her flirting he’d had to witness that evening, on top of Jackson’s unreasonable demands, caused something inside him to snap. Instead of ignoring her question, or answering it flippantly, he told her the absolute truth and damn the consequences.
“You have no idea whatsoever how I think about you.”
“You’re right,” she said sombrely. “Because you never tell me.”
He sighed, already regretting that he’d allowed his jealousy to show. “What would be the point?”
“We know each other too well to play games. Or is that the problem?” She tilted her head. “Has familiarity made you forget that I exist?”
He lowered his voice to a seductive purr. “Nothing could be further from the truth.”
“The why do you not—”
“Now is neither the time nor the place for this conversation, Flick.”
“It never is,” she said, fanning herself. “All right then, let’s talk about something else. Perhaps the weather would be a safe topic.”
Darius smiled. “I have no wish to discuss the damned weather.”
“But there’s something on your mind. I always know when you furrow your brow so ferociously that you have something to say that I’d prefer not to hear.”
“You know me too well.”
“Humph, sometimes I think I don’t know you at all.”
“Since you raised the subject, what I wished to warn you about is that your step-mama is here and disapproves of your gown.”
“Oh, bother! I had heard she was in town but so don’t want to see her.”
“Then you shall not.”
Flick wrinkled her nose. “It’s no good. If I don’t see her now, she’ll only call at Grosvenor Street.”
“Where you shall be not at home to her.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“If half of what I hear about her is right, she can’t afford to dally in town for long.”
“Which is probably why she wants to see me. She will be angling after an invitation to stay.”
“Which you can’t tender because Hal will be back soon.” He smiled at her and held her a little closer. “Hal won’t allow her to sleep beneath any of his roofs. You know that and so does she. Presumably she doesn’t know he’s due to return and is making the most of his absence, thinking she can manipulate you into doing what she wants.”
“Yes.” She sighed. “I dislike her intensely but still find it difficult to stand up to her.”
“You?” Darius affected surprise. “I thought nothing scared you.”
“Then you don’t know me as well as you thought you did.” She sounded as though she was out of patience with him. Darius said nothing, letting her work through her thoughts. He was sure she had something else on her mind and it didn’t take her long to put it into words. “Do you disapprove of my gown, Darius?”
What was he supposed to say to that? “I don’t seem to be able to keep my eyes from it, or from you.”
Her smile was triumphant. “Then you no longer look on me as Rob’s tiresome little sister?”
“Don’t push your luck, minx.” He laughed down at her. “You’ve caused quite a sensation tonight and will be able to take your pick from all the rich, handsome young men clamouring for your hand.”
“I’ve already made my choice.”
Darius’s heart lurched. “Anyone I know?”
“Absolutely.”
“He can keep you in style?”
“Bah, what has style to do with the matter? I prefer an honest man with standards he’s not willing to compromise. One who won’t sacrifice those standards just to make his mark on the world.”
“Then I fear you will indeed be old before you find your perfect paramour.”
Her smile was a tantalizing tease. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
The dance came to an end and Darius returned Flick to Miss Elliott.
“Stay here,” he said. “I’ll ensure that Lady Denby doesn’t bother you.”
He sought out Rob, not the least bit surprised to discover that he’d forgotten all about Flick and was ensconced in the library, engrossed in a game of chess with Charles Billingham. To his credit, he abandoned the game when Darius explained the situation and left the library to protect his sister from their despised stepparent. Flick was the only member of the family whom Cynthia Forster would attempt to bully. If Rob was standing guard over her, she’d be quite safe.
Darius found himself in conversation with several older gentlemen, all of whom had heard rumours about him defending Cuthbert. Unbeknown to her, Flick’s conduct that evening, her outrageous flirting and apparent disinterest in dancing with him had made his decision regarding the brief that much harder. In order to further his career, he ought to swallow his pride and take it. That would put him a step closer to being able to offer Flick the degree of comfort which she took for granted.
It would also turn her against him. She’d just made that abundantly clear.
One thing was now clear to Darius. He had much soul searching to do before tomorrow morning.
Chapter Four
Sitting at his desk in his chambers the following morning, Darius wasn’t the slightest bit surprised to see his instructing solicitor. If half the ton knew he was considering taking the Cuthbert case, Bartlett was sure to know it too.
“Don’t tell me,” Darius said. “You’ve brought the papers for the Cuthbert case along, just in case I’ve had a change of heart.”
“It would be the making of you, Mr. Grantley, and no mistake.”
“Yes,” Darius said, scrubbing a hand wearily down his face. “But at what price to my personal aspirations?”
“You need to look at the bigger picture, Mr. G.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.” Darius sighed. “All right then, what do the rogues have to say for themselves?”
Bartlett handed a bundle of papers to Darius. “That they weren’t there.”
“How surprising.” Darius rolled his eyes. “In that case, presumably they can explain where they were.”
“Evidently. But I’m unsure if anyone’s bothered to check that out.”
“Because everyone assumes they’re guilty?”
“As you appear to, sir.”
Darius made no reply as he shuffled through the papers. “There were four attacks, in four different locations, and Cuthbert and Baker just happened to be residing in the vicinity of each of them. The robbers were masked but called one another specifically by name. All of the victims were in agreement about that.” Darius tossed the papers aside. “At face value it appears to be an open-and-shut case. I wonder what makes Jackson suppose I’d be able to get them acquitted.”
“There must be something.”
Darius leaned his chin in his cupped hand and thought it through. “These young men are highly educated. If they went to the trouble of hiding their faces, why would they be stupid enough to call one another by name?”
Bartlett’s face brightened. “Ah, I hadn’t stopped to consider that. Perhaps you’re on to something there.”
“Hell if I know what.” Darius scratched his head. “If everyone was screaming and shouting, how did the victims hear those names so clearly? You’d think, being held at pistol point, they would have other priorities.”
“I can see that you’re already interested.” Bartlett didn’t attempt to hide his satisfaction. “And whatever the outcome, it will bring a good payday. Cuthbert’s father is offering to dig deep into his pockets to get the best possible defence for his son.”
“I’m glad to hear that your curiosity is piqued,” Jackson remarked, strolling through the open door. “Your clerk isn’t at his station,” he added. “I did knock but you were deep in conversation and didn’t hear me. Am I to take it that you will accept the brief?”
“Leave us, if you please, Bartlett.”
As soon as the solicitor had scurried away, Jackson took his vacated seat on the other side of Dar
ius’s desk.
“I will take the brief on certain conditions.”
“Name them.”
“Firstly, what makes you so sure that I can get them acquitted? I’ve only glanced at the papers but the evidence seems pretty overwhelming.”
Jackson quirked a brow. “And yet I interrupted you already entertaining doubts about the names of the culprits being overheard?”
“I dare say Woodard will find a way to explain that away, especially with public opinion being so firmly fixed against the accused.” Darius glowered at him, convinced he was holding something back. “I need more than that, sir.”
“Talk to your clients, Grantley. I have no wish to put ideas into your head.”
Oh, really? “Very well.” Darius stood up and stretched. “I’ll take the brief, provided that it won’t be held against me, that my career won’t stall, in other words, if I fail to get them acquitted.” He met Jackson’s gaze. “Do I have your word and your hand on that?”
“Just do your very best by them and I will do the same by you.”
Jackson’s handshake was firm and there was a gleam of satisfaction in his eye. “If anyone can pull this off, Grantley, it’s you. I have every faith in your abilities.”
Darius saw him off the premises, wishing he shared his confidence. Bartlett rejoined him as soon as Jackson left.
“What now?” he asked.
“Now we visit our clients in Newgate, I suppose. It will be interesting to see what they have to say for themselves. They’ve been cooling their heels for a couple of weeks so they’ve had plenty of time to concoct a convincing story.”
The two men walked briskly along the familiar bricked walkway between the Bailey and Newgate. Thanks to their fathers’ money, the accused were housed together in the best accommodation the depressing building could supply, which wasn’t saying much. They were clearly also getting sufficient to eat, which was more than a lot of the other poor souls incarcerated here could claim. Even so, Darius was surprised by their appearance. He’d expected to find two cocky young men convinced they could buy their way out of trouble. Instead they looked confused, frightened and defeated.
Beguiling the Barrister Page 4