Page 136 of A Modest Independence

“Giles said you ruined the Earl of Warren’s life. That you drove his son to suicide.”

Tom stopped in the center of the path. Her hand fell from his arm as he turned to face her. “The Earl of Warren’s son was an opium addict. Whether his death was deliberate or the end result of his addiction is a matter of some dispute. Certainly I had nothing to do with it.”

“You didn’t do something to affect his inheritance?”

He didn’t respond.

Jenny’s stomach tightened with apprehension. She had the sense that she should change the subject. That she should cease talking about Giles or giving voice to any of Giles’s absurd accusations. But she’d already said too much. There was no point in stopping now. “He said that you boxed Warren in as if he were an animal. That everywhere he turned…there you were. That you destroyed the man’s business ventures. Got him ejected from his clubs. That you even exposed his mistress to Lady Warren.”

A muscle spasmed in Tom’s jaw. “So, this is what you and Giles have been talking about during all of your walks about the grounds. Not about him and how he needs to return to England, but about me and what a ruthless monster I am.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Is it absurd? Because it sounds to me as if you’re asking me just how much of a villain I am.”

“I’m doing nothing of the sort. I haven’t any need to. I already know you aren’t the calculating figure Giles has made you out to be.”

“And yet, I did all of the things he accused me of. I exerted pressure on Warren in every possible way. I didn’t care how it affected him or his family. My only concern was gaining his capitulation.”

“On behalf of your client.”

“It was hardly on my own behalf. I didn’t know who the Earl of Warren was before this case began. I had nothing personal against the man. It’s never been personal. Not with any of them.”

Jenny remembered what Tom had told her on the train to Cairo about his clients being dishonorable men. How he’d become disenchanted with representing them. And how he hoped that, one day, worthy clients—like Ahmad and Mr. and Mrs. Jarrow’s son—would replace the unworthy ones entirely.

She came a little closer to him. “At Dover, you said this land dispute case of yours had been going on for eleven years.”

“A bit longer, in fact. Fothergill would say that I cut my legal teeth on the Earl of Warren. Perhaps I was overzealous initially, but I—” He broke off with a grimace. “I had a great deal to prove.”

“I daresay you proved it. The case is settled now, isn’t it?”

“For the moment.”

“And your client? The Viscount Atwater?”

“Really, Jenny. I can say no more on the subject. Except…”

“What?”

“Except to assure you that I’m no villain. I’m merely a man with a bit of talent for his job.”

Jenny choked on a laugh. “A bit of talent? I know nothing about the law, Tom, but even I recognize you must be possessed of more than that.” She sought his hand. “In any case, I know you’re not a villain.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.”

“I am,” she said. “I could never care for a villain the way I care for you.”

His fingers curled around hers. “Well, then.”

“Well, then.” A smile tugged at her mouth. “If we’re quite done arguing—”

“We haven’t been arguing.”

“So you claim.” She took several steps backward on the path, coaxing him along with her. “Talking about what a monster you are, indeed,” she chided. “Really, Tom. Do you want to know what Giles and I talk about when we’re alone? We talk about him. About Helena. About his uncle. And, very occasionally, he stoops to lecture me on my conduct—specifically as it relates to you.”

Tom’s brow lowered. “He has no reason to do so. From the moment we set foot in his house, we’ve been avoiding each other like the plague.”

“How well I know it.” The path curved on ahead of them. She dropped Tom’s hand, stepping off of it and crossing the grass, still wet with morning dew. “Through here,” she said.