Robert eased into the chair, fighting a sigh of deep relief. “Yes, my lord.”
Sir Richard folded his hands in front of him. “Now. I want to hear everyone’s story. One at a time.” He pointed at Eloise and Timothy. “You two sit as well, and you begin, young woman, by explaining yourself. Why the devil do you look like a man?”
“My lord, I am dressed like this to gain access to your courtroom, and because it helped me work with Constable Lewis and Lord Robert to find my brother. We know what these villains did to him, and I swear to you that Lord Robert was there to save him.”
“You said he was kidnapped. Begin there.”
They did. Eloise spoke, with Timothy offering information about his captivity. He did not remember all of it—laudanum had been involved—but Robert closed his eyes during some of the details, his own vivid memories swirling forth. Lewis returned as Robert finished his version of the past four days, concluding the session with his constable’s point of view.
As quiet settled on the office, Sir Richard looked at each of the four in turn, his gaze lingering the longest on Robert. Finally, the magistrate let out a long sigh and nodded at Lewis, who gestured for Eloise and Timothy to follow him. As the door closed behind him, Sir Richard cleared his throat. “Robbie, I’m discharging any accusations against you.”
Relief surged through Robert, emerging on a whispered, “I am grateful, my lord. Thank you.”
Sir Richard held up his hand. “But a discharged accusation is not necessarily a forgotten one. Rumors tend to cling to one as if they were a burr in a cuff.”
“Of that I am well aware.”
“Do not fight this. That will make it worse. Let it run its course. You are a strong man, and your friends will help you.” He nodded toward the door. “That’s a remarkable woman you have. Scandalous but remarkable.”
“I only wish she were mine.”
Sir Richard paused, then leaned back in his chair. “Son, you look like hell, but she looked at you as if you were Brummell himself. You may not be able to marry her, but she belongs to you.” He stood and Robert pushed to his feet. “I’m going to show you out a side door. Find a doctor, and soon, before that cut goes sour.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And give your father my greetings.”
Robert nodded, fatigue finally ending his ability to speak. Sir Richard led him through several corridors that made Robert realize it might not be Newgate that was confusing so much as any building conceived and constructed by the government. Finally, a short set of steps led down to a single wooden door. A guard standing next to it straightened as he saw the magistrate, then unlocked the door and opened it.
Robert stepped out into the bright sunlight and held his hand over his eyes to shade them. As his vision adjusted, he realized the narrow side street was almost empty... except for the ducal carriage emblazoned with the Kennet crest. As Robert stared, a waiting footman opened the door, and his brother Michael stepped out.
“Get in, brother. Because if you pass out, I will refuse to pick you up.”
“Lazy son of a bitch,” Robert muttered, limping closer.
“Hardly. I don’t want blood on my coat. My valet would never forgive me. The coat is new. You look like something a hellhound might cough up.”
“I missed you too.”
Michael reached for Robert’s arm and helped him into the carriage. “Dr. Oakley is waiting at Ashton House.”
Robert collapsed against the squabs. “How’s Mother?”
“Mad as hell and flailing around like a mummer on Twelfth Night. She would skin you alive if you did not appear to have started that process yourself.”
“Rough night.”
Michael coughed, then thumped the roof of the carriage. It started forward with a lurch and Robert shuddered from the pain. They rode in silence a moment, then Michael said, “Before you emerged, a woman and a young man came out.”
Robert tried to sit straighter without much success. “Where did they go?”
“They were met by the Earl of Pentney in his carriage. The boy left with him. The woman left walking.”
Robert scowled. “She did not go with her father?”
Michael shook his head. “No. They had some kind of row. Loud. Threats of disownment. Something about an aunt. The carriage left without her.”
“She was by herself?”
