But Niall pushed the plate away and told the servant to send Kemble in. “Life goes on, and I doubt your uncle will suspendhisactivities for a mourning period.”
A man entered the room. He was unprepossessing in all ways: middling height, middling coloring, middling attire.
He bowed to Niall first. “Good afternoon, sir. That is, my lord. I was just informed of the events of last night. May I offer my condolences? I am Jackson Kemble.”
Niall nodded. “How do you do? And I don’t have to introduce you to Heather, which is good, because I have no idea what her title or address should even be at this point.”
“Perhaps we can settle that soon.” Kemble gave him a little smile, then turned to her. “I shall address you as Lady MacNair for now, if that’s acceptable. For politeness, if nothing else.”
“It is good to see you again, Mr. Kemble,” Heather returned. “I promise that if the title turns out to be incorrect, no one will blame you. May we offer you breakfast? Or perhaps tea?”
“Tea would be much appreciated, my lady.”
Heather nodded to the maid who was standing to the side, and the girl left to fulfill the request.
Niall said, “So you’re the man who’s going to extract us from our mistakes and save us from ourselves?”
Kemble considered that for a long moment, then said, “No. I’m the man who will tell you the truth.”
Niall nodded once. “That’s better. Ah, here’s tea.”
Talk paused while the maid distributed the tea things. Heather poured. Then she took a sip, relishing the strength of the brew. She wasn’t sure she’d want to go back to the weak, straw-colored tea she used to get at Hayes House.
Kemble said, “As her grace may have mentioned in her correspondence, I’ve been a very good friend of her husband the duke for years. Her grace believes most strongly that her friends deserve all she can do for them, and Miss Hayes is a dear friend. So as a favor to them all, I’ve come here. I’ve argued before the bar, and studied the law. I’ll offer what insight I can into your…situation.”
Then Kemble asked a series of questions that Heather was sick to death of by now. But she dutifully recalled the events of her and Niall’s hasty drive to Gretna Green, the wedding ceremony, and the subsequent events.
Kemble took a few notes as they spoke, and also mentioned that he’d stopped at Gretna Green himself on the way up.
“Did you speak with the blacksmith?” Niall asked.
“I did, and he remembered you both clearly, and was happy to point out your entry in his book.”
“You did that before you even spoke to us? That’s dedication,” Heather noted. “It was very kind of Daisy to send you to work as my attorney.”
Kemble’s expression changed. “Well, in fact…”
She frowned. “What is it?”
“I can’t beyourattorney. As a married woman, you can’t really have legal representation of your own.”
“Excuse me?” Heather put her cup down, the tea suddenly bitter on her tongue.
“To secure any such service requires your husband’s permission.”
Niall’s eyes widened. “Of course I’ll give it!”
“No, sir, don’t do that,” Kemble replied smoothly. “The very act of acknowledging your permission is needed might be taken as more evidence that the marriage is accepted by all parties. So. What I will do is act as Lord MacNair’s attorney, which avoids all complications of permissions and what that implies. Since you both seek the same outcome—the dissolution of the marriage after the sixth of October by whatever means we can devise—there is no conflict of interest.”
“My God in heaven,” Heather gasped. “I really have no rights, do I? Marriage isawful.”
Niall looked away, then muttered, “Perhaps we’d better continue this discussion in private.”
“Oh, please. I wouldn’t want to intrude upon a discussion that involves the rest of my life! Do tell me when you’ve decided my fate.” She got up and stomped off…which would have been more satisfying if she had somewhere to stomp off to.
* * * *
A while later, Niall and Kemble sat in a small study on the upper floor (the large audience chamber favored by the old MacNair now closed off for obvious reasons). Niall considered insisting that Heather be present, if only to sit silently in a corner to overhear the discussion. Then he remembered thatHeatherandsilencerarely fit in the same sentence, and decided he’d simply report the results to her later.
