‘My lord, how do you wish us to proceed?’ Theo asked.
The Bishop steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lips for a few seconds then spoke decisively. ‘I think you, my lords, should do nothing further at present. This is now a church matter although later, as a magistrate for the district, Lord Manners will doubtless have an involvement.
‘William, you will stay here overnight. You should rest and we will speak further, pray together for guidance in this matter. Tomorrow I will send the Archdeacon with you to view the church and this tomb. You will then both call upon the Rector, break the news to him and to Mrs Finch and then proceed, as a group, to call upon Sir Walter. Thank you, gentlemen.’
‘That was a fairly crisp dismissal,’ Theo said to Perry as they climbed back into the coach. ‘I worry about leaving Will there – did you see how he seemed to sag into his chair?’
‘That was relief at having handed a difficult moral decision over to a higher power,’ Perry said as he rapped on the roof and sat down. ‘Don’t look so anxious – we have hardly left him in the hands of the Spanish Inquisition. And Bishop Bathurst’s a wily old bird, in my opinion.’
‘So now we had best have luncheon and then go and look up a wily younger bird,’ Theo said. ‘I am keeping my fingers crossed that Gerard does not see fit to regale Laura with tales of our mutual misspent youth.’
‘Lord, yes.’ Perry’s face was a picture of dismay. ‘Crow – I mean Gerard – will have calmed down a lot though, surely? Like we have. I mean, a lawyer has to be a sober-sides, doesn’t he?’
‘I can only hope so,’ Theo said gloomily.
Laura took the seat opposite the wide desk and threw back her veil, blinking in relief at actually being able to see more than a grey blur. Then she blinked again at the sight of the man lowering himself into the seat opposite.
Goodness me. She hadn’t quite known what to expect from a lawyer who had been a friend of Perry and Theo and who must, therefore, be about their age. The only men of law she’d come across so far had been middle aged or elderly, portly or thin, and all of them dry as dust.
The Honourable Gerard Redfern was the second son of the Earl of Charnbrook, an eccentric and reclusive nobleman, according to Perry. He was tall and slim and dark and if he had come swinging down from the rigging of a ship with a cutlass between his teeth she would hardly have been surprised. He looked as out of place in a law office as a raven on a wedding cake.
It was not that he was good looking, exactly. With that assertive nose and those black eyes and that thick hair he was no pretty gentleman of fashion, although his clothes were, if anything, more expensive than either Perry’s or Theo’s, if she was any judge. She wondered if he ever prosecuted in court, because surely anyone giving evidence would instantly tell the truth, all the truth and nothing but the truth after just one glance from under those severe brows.
‘This is Miss Darke,’ Perry said. ‘Miss Darke, Mr Redfern. Her circumstances are those that I sketched out in my letter.’
‘Good afternoon, Miss Darke.’
‘Yes. I mean, good afternoon, Mr Redfern.’
‘I understand that you have a problem with an embezzling uncle and trustee who is also attempting to marry you off to his son by decidedly underhand methods. Is that correct?’
‘Yes.’ Stop shaking. You aren’t the one at fault…
‘Then it will be my pleasure to see that he gets everything that is due to him.’ Mr Redfern put his elbows on the desk, clasped his hands together and leaned towards her.
Laura felt herself swaying forwards as though drawn by a magnet. And then he smiled. Oh my word…
‘Crow,’ Theo said sharply from behind her. ‘Stop it.’
‘Stop what?’ Mr Redfern – Crow? – said, the smile quite gone. He raised one eyebrow and was back to being the Inquisitor General.
‘You know perfectly well what,’ Theo snapped. ‘Listen to Miss Darke’s story and tell her what’s to be done.’
The lawyer leaned back in his chair. ‘Please recount the history of your family and situation, the trust and your uncle’s behaviour. Omit nothing. I would rather have to winnow out the grain from a ton of chaff than to have some vital detail missed.’
It look almost two hours, with Mr Redfern interrupting for clarification after almost every statement. From the extensive notes he was making, the winnowing was already in progress.
‘And your birthday is just over two months away? I see.’ He absent-mindedly stuck a black quill pen in his hair, increasing the likeness to the crow Theo had named him. ‘We need to keep you out of Swinburn’s hands until then. He must have no hint that you are taking legal advice because we do not want to give him time to falsify the books any more than he probably already has. Fortunately he sounds like an all too familiar type who believe that females have nothing between their ears but fluff. I doubt that it would ever occur to him that you would to go to a lawyer.
‘On your birthday we serve papers demanding a full payment and accounting, in detail, of all his management of your affairs. We will either receive immediate compliance or we will drag him through the courts by his ears.’ The smile this time was not in the least magnetic.
Laura swallowed. ‘The problem is, Mr Redfern, until I receive my inheritance I have no money to pay you.’
‘And receiving it and seeing it all swallowed up in legal fees rather defeats the purpose,’ Theo said. ‘Miss Darke is entitled to the independence that money will give her.’
‘I would not dream of charging a penny piece in fees.’
‘I cannot take charity,’ Laura said hotly.