“At once, m’lady.”
Potter probably thought she was in desperate need of Millie’s services and Flick could scarce blame him for that. She grinned as she danced up the stairs, the gesture putting strain on lips delightfully swollen from Darius’s kisses. She wanted to laugh aloud at Potter’s thinly veiled disapproval. The whole world ought to laugh with her. It didn’t seem right that she was so happy whilst everyone else went about their daily business in blissful ignorance of the changes in her circumstances. Being in love and having that love reciprocated made her heart overflow.
She removed her bonnet and sat before her dressing table with her unruly hair tangled about her shoulders. She was singing off-key when Millie joined her.
“My goodness, ma’am, whatever happened to you hair?”
“I had an accident,” she said, grinning so broadly that Millie looked rather alarmed.
“Ah well, we’d best see what we can do to put matters right.”
Half an hour later Millie had restored Flick to a state of sartorial elegance, at least as far as her clothing and hair were concerned. In a gown of pale lemon muslin, she was every inch the young lady of the house, about to embark upon her second season with not a care in the world. Flick glanced at her image and hoped she was the only one who would notice the slight flush to her cheeks and the redness where Darius’s stubbly chin had rubbed against her face. With luck all attention would be on Hal and Leah, and the radiant glow in eyes that sparkled with newfound knowledge, and her telltale swollen lips, would escape notice.
“Thank you, Millie,” she said. “You’re a miracle worker.”
“That I am, m’lady,” she said, grinning mischievously. “Sometimes I surprise myself.”
It appeared that Flick hadn’t even deceived her maid. This was a sorry start indeed. Hopefully Millie would put her exuberant mood down to a mild flirtation. If she guessed the truth, she’d probably be horrified and give notice.
Flick attempted to school her features into a more seemly expression as she descended the stairs. Unable to achieve that ambition, she burst into the drawing room, singing again, and found all her family gathered there.
“Hal!” She threw herself at her eldest brother. He caught her round the waist and twirled her in a circle, much as he’d been doing for her entire life.
“Here you are at last, minx. What kept you?”
“You ought to have sent word you were arriving today.”
“And spoil the surprise?”
As soon as he set her on her feet, Flick ran to her new sister-in-law and embraced her warmly. “I’m very glad to see you back, Leah.”
“It’s a pleasure to be back.”
Flick took a moment to examine her brother’s wife. Dressed exquisitely, Leah carried off her new wardrobe with élan, as though accustomed to the very best of everything, which couldn’t be further from the truth. But the elevation in her rank hadn’t changed her character. She was still warm, down to earth and friendly.
“Were you horribly sick on that ghastly boat?”
“Not at all.” Leah resumed her seat and Flick sat beside her. “I enjoy boats.”
Flick wrinkled her nose. “Then your constitution is stronger than mine will ever be.”
“How was our uncle?” Rob asked.
“Full of complaints about his gout but otherwise in excellent form.” Hal shook his head in obvious admiration. “He’ll outlive us all, I shouldn’t wonder. He plans to spend Christmas at the Hall.”
Flick and Rob exchanged a glance. “Why now?” Flick asked. “We’ve never been able to persuade him to leave Dawlish before.”
“He’s taken a liking to Leah.” There was pride in Hal’s voice as he stood behind his wife’s chair and placed a protective hand on her shoulder. “He’ll do absolutely anything she asks of him, provided she sings for him.”
“I’m glad he’s coming,” Flick said. “I rather like him. I find it amusing that he’s rude to everyone, regardless of status, and yet absolutely no one takes offence.”
“He’s certainly tends to speak his mind,” Hal agreed.
“He rather frightens me,” Beth admitted.
Leah reached across and covered her sister’s hand with her own. “Don’t feel that way, darling. Underneath all that bluster, the duke’s just a lonely old gentleman who secretly enjoys company.”
“Especially the company of pretty young girls,” Rob said, winking at Beth.
“Just so long as they amuse him and aren’t sycophantic,” Hal added.
“When do you plan to return to the Hall?” Rob asked.
“I thought we’d go back down in a week’s time, after we’ve recovered from our journey.”
Flick did a quick calculation and nodded. “Yes, that suits.” Darius was planning to remove to the country in a week’s time also so she wouldn’t need to be separated from him. She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until all eyes turned in her direction.
“Glad my plans meet with your approval, squirt,” Hal said, grinning.
“What made you say that?” Leah asked.
“I’m helping Darius prove that Cuthbert is innocent,” she said, because she had to say something to explain her outburst.
“You’re what?” Hal and Rob exclaimed together.
“He’s taken the case then,” Rob added alone.
“Yes. I’ve just been to see him and he’s convinced me that Cuthbert and Baker are most likely innocent. That being the case, I have no objection to them benefiting from Darius’s brilliance.”
“Good heavens.” Rob quirked a brow. “Whatever made him draw that conclusion?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s confidential.”
“Ah, I see.” Rob laughed. “Still, he’ll likely get a good payday out of it.”
Flick scowled. Did everyone except her understand how Darius stood financially? “He might be made King’s Counsel if he acquits himself well.”
“He deserves to be,” Hal said. “He’s a credit to his profession.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Flick’s bosom swelled with reflected glory. “Everyone says as much.”
“Not that you’re biased, of course.”
“I merely repeat what I hear said. We were at Lady Bishop’s just last night and Darius was in great demand.”
“Darius has done well to overcome the difficulties that his father created,” Hal said. “It can’t have been easy but probably explains why he’s worked so hard to forge a career in the law.”
“What difficulties?” Leah asked.
“His father was a hardened gamester,” Hal replied. “He almost lost Brightstone Manor in a card game. He certainly died leaving the estate in considerable debt but I believe Darius has righted that situation.”
“Explains why he’s so serious,” Rob said, “and why he never gambles.”
“You shouldn’t go visiting Darius unchaperoned, Flick,” Hal cautioned. “Not here in London, at any rate.” He regarded her a little more closely and scowled. “You look different. I hope you didn’t—”
“What are you implying, Hal?” Flick was furious when she felt colour flood her face. Rob was now peering at her too. “Stop glaring at me, you two. This is Darius we’re discussing, and he’s perfectly harmless.”
“But you’re not, Flick, not when it comes to him. If I even suspect that—”
“My dear.” Leah, bless her, saved the day by attracting Hal’s attention. “I think now’s the time to make our announcement, given that everyone’s here except Gabriel.”
“Yes, of course.”
Hal gently caressed her shoulder with his palm and bestowed a smile of such tender admiration on Leah as to melt Flick’s heart. She felt like an intruder. Indeed she suspected that Hal and Leah had temporarily forgotten they were in company, so complete was their absorption in one another. If Darius ever looked at her with even half as much love in his eyes then she would die content.
“This is a happy day for the Forster dynasty,”
he said proudly, “since Leah confidently expects to provide me with an heir in the spring.”
“I say!” Rob clapped his brother’s shoulder and then bent to kiss Leah’s cheek.
Since Flick had anticipated such happy tidings, she was obliged to feign surprise. Her delight was entirely genuine however and she took her turn to congratulate the parents-to-be with joy in her heart. Her family tactfully avoided any mention of the early detection of Leah’s condition. Flick smiled to herself, content to allow Leah and Beth to huddle together. Hal and Rob leaned against the mantelpiece, both looking proud as punch.
As for Flick, she’d be able to prove to Darius how perceptive she was when they next spoke. Then he would have to concede that her intuitive nature would be an asset in their attempts to clear Cuthbert’s name, and allow her to participate more fully in the investigation.
* * *
The interlude with Flick had made Darius late for the Bailey. Interlude? Darius was disgusted with himself for denigrating the sweetest, most sensual experience of his entire life with such an unworthy term. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t received gratification himself. Her pleasure was enough for both of them, for now at least, since Flick was everything he’d imagined she would be, and more. Her enthusiasm and passion exceeded his wildest expectations, convincing him that he’d made the right decision in taking the Cuthbert case. He would never have a better opportunity to improve his circumstances and he was damned if he would pass it up out of some misguided sense of duty.
With no time to take luncheon, Darius rushed to the courthouse where he did his very best to focus on the case he had to defend that afternoon. Even so, images of Flick’s reckless smile as he took her to the brink of orgasm almost made him forget what he was supposed to be doing. He forced his mind back to the matter in hand but opposing counsel still won an easy victory. Darius would never have procured a not guilty verdict anyway, since his client had been caught red-handed. The hapless man now had to look forward to deportation.
“Not at your best today, Grantley?”
Darius sighed. This particular opposing counsel had never beaten him before and clearly intended to gloat. “Congratulations,” he said, striding past the man.
Darius urgently needed to be alone. He wished to think about Cuthbert. There had to be a way to prove his story. Each time he thought about Flick’s laughing eyes and passionate nature, his incentive to do so reinforced itself tenfold.
Cuthbert and Baker were only arrested because the last victim to be held up recalled hearing them address one another by name. As far as Darius could ascertain, once it became apparent that both men had been in the vicinity of each robbery, it was enough to condemn them without too many enquiries being made.
Significantly, no other victims had mentioned hearing Cuthbert and Baker address one another by name until after they were taken in charge. Darius strode along, mulling the matter over. Coincidence? Somehow he didn’t think so. An individual with strong reasons to see someone charged with the crimes had used his power to bring about Cuthbert’s and Baker’s arrests. Only then did other victims remember that they too had heard their names mentioned. All the particulars mysteriously found their way into the newspapers, further condemning the arrested men.
Darius could now see just how thin the evidence actually was. He would have to conduct his own enquiries, of course. Flick’s suggestion of speaking to the ostlers was a good one. Trust her to go straight to the heart of the matter. Darius very much doubted if someone of Pallister’s ilk would have thought to buy their silence.
So deep in thought was he as he made his way towards his chambers that he didn’t even look up when a shadow blocked his path. He absently apologized to the person he collided with and made to walk past him. The person blocked his path again, making it apparent that the collision had been no accident. Darius lifted his gaze from a pair of highly polished hessians, straight into the lifeless eyes of the Marquess of Pallister.
“Grantley, how fortunate. A moment of your time, if you please.”
Darius absolutely didn’t wish to converse with Lord Pallister but knew he couldn’t avoid an encounter that had been deliberately contrived. It was a measure of the man’s desperation—or thoroughness—that he’d sought Darius out as soon as he heard that he’d taken Cuthbert’s case.
“I’m at your service,” he said shortly.
“This way.”
Without waiting to see if Darius was following, Pallister strode off in the direction of a tavern far enough from the Bailey to ensure they were unlikely to be seen together. Ensconced in a private parlour, Pallister lost no time in coming to the point.
“Cuthbert and Baker are guilty,” he said emphatically. “The evidence is overwhelming.”
Darius leaned back in his chair, adopting the relaxed, competent pose that won favour with juries. He felt anything but relaxed, speaking with such a ruthlessly powerful and highly unlikable man in private, but knew better than to let it show.
“So the newspapers would have us believe,” he said in an indolent tone.
“For once they’re in the right of it.”
“Then they will doubtless be found guilty.”
Pallister leaned towards Darius. A combination of his elevated social position and considerable wealth meant that aristocrat and commoner alike toadied to him. Darius however felt no inclination to do so, probably accounting for Pallister’s ill-humour.
“What defence do you plan to mount?”
“I have not yet had an opportunity to formulate one.”
“A word to the wise, before you do.” Pallister fixed him with a gimlet gaze. “Any public mention of the company the young scoundrels kept before their incarceration would be most unwise.”
From experience cross-examining unsympathetic witnesses, Darius had learned to maintain his temper. “You would see innocent men go to the gallows rather than name their associates?” He frowned. “That’s hardly worthy of a man of your stature, Lord Pallister.”
Pallister thumped the table that separated them with his clenched fist, causing the tankards of ale they hadn’t touched to jump and spill some of their contents over the scarred wood. He had a reputation for being an intolerant man with a short temper. Darius could now attest to the truth in that rumour. No wonder he didn’t seek political office. He didn’t have a diplomatic bone in his body, nor did he enjoy having his word challenged. Could that be his weakness?
“Let’s not insult one another’s intelligence by shilly-shallying here, Grantley. Those men and guilty and there’s an end to the matter.”
Darius elevated a brow. “Am I to understand that you see no need for a trial?”
“Of course they must have a fair trial. And be found guilty, as they deserve to be. Can’t have young men charging about the countryside, holding up respectable citizens simply because they’re bored. There would anarchy across the land in no time at all if they’re allowed to get away with it.”
“Is that why the crimes were committed?” Darius inclined his head. “I’m much obliged to you. I didn’t know that.”
“Well...er, one can but assume.”
“Indeed, but assumption is dangerous in a court of law. We prefer to deal in fact.”
“Precisely my point.”
In spite of his best endeavours, Darius’s temper was in danger of getting the better of him. Aware that it was never wise to lose one’s focus when dealing with a slippery customer like Pallister, he took a deep breath and quelled the retort that sprang to his lips.
“I think we’ve exhausted this topic,” he said instead, gathering his hat and standing up. “You have made your opinion perfectly plain and I see no reason to prolong this discussion about our fine judicial system.”
“Just a moment, Grantley. I haven’t yet had my say.”
“On the contrary, sir, you have made your position crystal clear.”
“Sit down!”
Pallister clearly had more to say and Darius needed to hea
r it. Know your enemy had been a mantra that served him well over the years and so he re-seated himself.
“Many men have underestimated my power and influence. I would advise you not to add your name to the list. It would be a grave miscalculation. I’m a fine person to have as a friend, but you don’t want to think about how dangerous an enemy I can be.”
Darius could think of no suitable response and accordingly remained silent.
“I make it my business to know all there is to know about anyone who can affect me or mine.” He glowered at Darius. “Ensure that Cuthbert and Baker plead guilty but avoid the hangman’s noose, which is more compassion than they deserve.”
Darius scrutinised his features. “Is that all?”
“I dare say Jackson has promised you K.C. if they are found innocent.”
Darius merely returned his gaze, neither confirming nor denying that assertion.
“I too can guarantee you that status if your clients plead to the charges.”
“And if they do not?”
Pallister’s acidic smile caused Darius’s gut to roil and a chill to sweep through his body. “I should hate for you to be the cause of Lady Felicity’s family’s fall from grace.”
This time Pallister had gone too far. Darius leapt from his seat, completely unequal to the task of retaining an indifferent expression in the light of this evil threat.
“What the devil are you talking about?”
Pallister motioned Darius back to his seat, not saying a word until he reluctantly resumed it.
“The dowager Lady Denby is quite a gamester, did you know that?”
Darius remained silent.
“I thought not.” Pallister’s lips twisted into a noxious smile. “I bought up all her vowels recently. It would be so embarrassing for Denby if they were to find their way into the public domain.”
Darius laughed, giddy with relief. Hal had long since made it known that he wouldn’t be responsible for his stepmother’s debts. “Is that the best you can do, Pallister?”
“By no means.” He folded one leg elegantly over the other, leaned back in his chair and smirked. “You must have heard the rumours, intimate as you are with the family, that Lady Julia is not the old marquess’s daughter.”
Beguiling the Barrister Page 8