Mr. Moore crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you require the services of a barrister?”
“I do not, but it would be for the sole purpose of keeping my visit a secret.”
“Do you know what a conflict of interest is, my lady?”
“I do.”
“Then you must know why you can’t hire me.”
Enid tilted her chin. “Even if you tattle on me to my brother, it will make little difference. I am a widow, and I can do as I please.”
“Yet you are not dressed like a widow.”
She ran a hand down her green gown. “Well, if you must know, I am in the process of acquiring new gowns.”
“Are you not mourning your husband?”
She pressed her lips together before admitting, “I am not.”
The silence between them stretched to several minutes before Mr. Moore dropped his arms to his sides. “Lady Enid,” he said, “this is no place for a lady. You should go home before your reputation is tarnished even more.”
“I do not think it would make a difference.”
His eyes seemed to take in every detail as they roamed her face in what she assumed was a quick assessment. “Tell me, my lady, why are you here?” he asked.
“To see Lady Eugenie, of course.”
“But, why?” he pressed.
Enid appreciated his direct approach and found it quite refreshing. “I want to speak to her and confirm my suspicions.”
“Which are?”
She knew that Mr. Moore wouldn’t stand by and let her tell him half-truths so she might as well be honest with him. “I don’t believe she killed Lord Rushcliffe and I want to offer my support to her.”
Mr. Moore bobbed his head in approval. “You and I have something in common, because I don’t believe Lady Eugenie killed Lord Rushcliffe either.”
The door opened and Lady Eugenie stepped into the room. Enid resisted the urge to gasp as she took in her friend’s haggard appearance. Her blonde hair was disheveled, there were brown streaks down her fair skin and her ill-fitting, tan gown was terribly soiled. But Eugenie’s eyes caused Enid the greatest alarm. They had a distance to them, as though she were lost in her suffering.
Allen stuck his head in and said, “You have ten minutes.”
After the door was slammed shut, Enid rose and rushed over to embrace her friend. “I am so sorry this is happening to you.”
Lady Eugenie dropped her arms and took a step back. “How are you here?” she asked in disbelief. “The guards won’t even let me see my sister.”
“Mr. Moore was gracious enough to allow me to accompany him,” Enid said with a grateful glance over her shoulder at the barrister.
Mr. Moore gestured towards the table. “Why don’t you both have a seat so we can get started?”
Enid returned to her seat as Lady Eugenie sat on the other side of the table.
Leaning his shoulder against the wall, Mr. Moore asked, “How are you being treated?”
Lady Eugenie’s shoulders slumped. “It gets cold at night with the threadbare blanket that I was given, but at least it protects me from the rats that crawl over me while I sleep.”
Mr. Moore grimaced. “Don’t give up hope. We will get you out of here.”
“Sometimes, the guards taunt me by telling me what I should expect at Newgate,” Lady Eugenie said. “I truly hope I don’t end up there.”
