“There has been some trouble in town with those radical agitators, your grace.” Nolley said that with more glee than was necessary. “And your sister was among them.”
“What sort of trouble?” Although after their heated words this morning, he had a nasty suspicion he knew what was coming.
“An illegal protest for that traitor Matthew Reynolds which turned violent.”
“Did it turn violent before orafterthe militia were sent in to quash it?” He feared he knew the answer to that question too.
“They needed to be cleared,” said the constable, unrepentant, “because that chanting rabble were amassed in direct contradiction to the Seditious Meetings Act of 1819,among various other statutes which were willfully broken by most of those in attendance. We’ve arrested forty-three of the blighters so far.” A number which obviously delighted him. “We’ve mustered as many of the magistrates as we can to hear all their charges as swiftly as possible and issue warrants for further arrests, but there are a lot of them to get through. I came to summon you earlier to assist, but your mother informed me that she had no clue where you were. But now that your sister is implicated, I realize that it wouldn’t be proper for you to serve on the bench tonight.”
Bloody Abigail!Trust her to rebel against him by joining another illegal protest! “What charge is my sister held on?”
“On top of attending an unlawful meeting, she is charged with a breach of the peace, resisting arrest, and seditious and blasphemous libel.” Serious charges indeed. “But if the woman we have in custody is actually your sister as she claims to be, then the other justices haveagreed that as a mark of respect to you, they will let her off with a warning and release her to your care to deal with privately—what with you being a peer of the realm and a sitting magistrate and all.” Leniency that the constable’s expression screamed he did not approve of.
“Lady Abigail Sloaneismy sister, Constable Nolley, as I am sure you already know seeing as you’ve met her on several occasions.”
“Still,” said the man, enjoying putting Leo in his place for a change. “As you are so fond of telling me, we must follow the proper procedures and, for the sake of the official records, I will need you to formally identify her as such, in person, before we can release her, your grace. We have, as you have repeated often, a civic and moral responsibility to the citizens of Bath to do things properly, after all.”
It was galling to be quoted back by a man who would happily ride roughshod over the law at the slightest provocation—but they were Leo’s words so he could hardly argue with them. “Where is she?”
“The city jail on Grove Street with all the other rioters.”
Of all the things Portia had considered she might, one day, be arrested for, trying to save the rebellious sister of a duke wasn’t one of them. Yet here she was, manacled at the wrists, bruised and battered and jammed into a cramped and airless, filthy cell with the stupid girl alongside twenty other prisoners who were all, rather worryingly, men.
At least half of those men were not ones she recognized from the protest, so that meant that she and Lady Abigail had been placed into this cell alongside a great many regular criminals. A couple of whom were sending them lecherous glances as they sat huddled together on the floor in the corner
“Why haven’t they released me yet?” The duke’s sister was becoming increasingly agitated and that, in turn, made the timbre of her voice higher pitched. “Don’t they know that they have no right to keep me? Don’t they know who my brother is? Are they not aware that Leo is a duke as well as a magistrate?”
A shifty-looking fellow instantly glared at the word “magistrate,” but her companion seemed oblivious that was a dirty word in a prison. Before the spoiled fool got them both beaten, Portia jabbed her in the ribs and hissed. “Keep your voice down, Abigail, and for pity’s sake, watch what you say!”
The duke’s troublesome sister bristled. “Who are you to speak to me like that?”
That entitled outburst was the last straw. “Who am I? Only the person who risked life and limb to try and extricate you from that protest before the army rampaged in. The person who was arrested alongside you because you refused to leave when I begged you to! I am also the person who might well end up with a criminal record because of your misguided stupidity! Which could well mean, that thanks entirely to you, I could be unemployable as your lot tend not to look favorably on someone who has had a brush with the law, no matter whose fault it actually was.” Portia jabbed her finger between them. “I am also, currently, the only person in this putrid cell who has a modicum of sympathy for you—although I have to warn you that that is presently wearing very thin—and I am the only thing standing between you and real physical harm. Or did it not occur to you that some of these men in here might have an axe to grind with your brother, you self-indulgent, selfish, and stupid idiot!”
Lady Abigail recoiled as if she had been slapped. “I… I…” Finally, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “I was just trying to stand up for what was right.” Her bottom lip quivered and that only irritated Portia more. “I thought you of all people would appreciate that—especially as Matthew Reynolds is one ofus.”
“Then do the rest ofusa favor and get your facts straight before you go on a half-cocked and dangerous crusade, Abigail! Matthew Reynolds isn’t innocent. He isn’t some martyr to the cause. He is a reckless, ambitious, and dangerous firebrand. A loose cannon who was never ‘one ofus’ really.” Portia checked around her for any eavesdroppers before she lent to whisper in her misguided cellmate’s ear.
“He never did anything forEquitasbeyond bring trouble to its door. Nobody at the newspaper had seen hide nor hair of him in months because he was too busy raising his own little band of ruffians to wreak havoc with. Havoc, I might add that was never sanctioned by anyone in the reform movement except himself.” Then, because someone had to say it, she added, “Your brother was right about everything he said about the man. Nobody lied. He’s not on trial on trumped-up charges. He threatened to murder a bound man shivering in his underwear in cold blood and, as far as I and the rest ofusare concerned, he jolly deserves whatever punishment they give him! And I cannot believe that Percy, who I thought was sensible, was stupid enough to have told you any different!”
The silence hung for several seconds while Abigail digested that, then in a small voice she said. “Percy didn’t. I haven’t seen him since you caught us together the other day.”
“Then who did?”
“I received a letter from a friend in London.”
“Did it not occur to you to corroborate that unreliable hearsay from two hundred miles away with anyone here in Bath who might just know the actual facts? Oh wait—you did.” Sarcasm dripped from Portia’s lips. “You asked your brother and then called him an idiot because he told you the unpalatable truth.” She let every bit of her disgust show as she shook her head. “If anyone is the fool in this instance, it is you, Abigail, not Leo. But all of a sudden, I cannot help but noticing that your brother isn’t the enemy anymore because you need his help, which I daresay makes you a hypocrite too, doesn’t it? Because you are apparently only a crusading reformer when it suits you to be, but an entitled aristocrat who deserves to be above the law when it doesn’t!”
The younger woman blanched. “I do not think that I am above the law, Miss Kendall, I just assumed…” Abigail sighed her contrition and finally had the decency to look thoroughly ashamed of herself. “You are right. I am scared and I am panicking but that isno excuse for assuming that I should get special dispensation for my foolhardy actions simply because of who my brother is.”
“And yet the irony is that you doubtless will just as soon as he gets here. Privilege of Peerage is only supposed to cover members who serve in Parliament, yet, with a nod and wink, few blue bloods ever stand trial. No matter how heinous their offense, so take comfort in that.”
Portia had meant that to ease Abigail’s mind, but instead it made her frown. “That is very wrong, isn’t it? The law should apply to everyone with an even hand without prejudice.”
“It should—but it doesn’t.” As Portia was presently only too aware. She did not possess any blue-blooded or well-connected relatives who could make this disappear. And if they managed to link her toEquitas, she was done for.
“LADY ABIGAIL SLOANE!” As the prison guard approached the bars with rattling keys and a lantern, all the inmates rushed to the front of the cell shouting abuse. “SHOW YOURSELF, WOMAN!”
The angry crowd booed and leered as Portia and Abigail scrambled to their feet. As they tried to push their way through, they were helped on their way by several pairs of unsubtly groping hands. One pair snaked around Portia’s waist and dragged her back unceremoniously against a smelly inmate’s crotch.
