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Asquith squeezed Preston’s shoulder. “Crowds corrupt. You aren’t the first to be swept along and led astray.” He’d been swept away, too. Seething frustration, rage and humiliation had made him lose his mind. “Owning your mistakes is what builds character.”
“Could we help them?” Preston asked. “They’re decent people who trusted the wrong person.”
“I hope so.” Asquith wandered to the window. “Let me think.”
They could report the brothel, but under the act most often used to prosecute brothel owners, two ratepayers were required to come forward at their own expense before a constable could investigate. And then, only the madam would be charged. Willard would remain hidden behind the corporation.
Forgery. Now that would turn heads. Preston’s story had the stronger legal merit. But the dispute boiled down to Willard’s word versus the tavern owner’s word.
Asquith suspected which way the law would fall.
“I don’t want to bring trouble to people who’ve already had enough of it,” he mused aloud. “What documentation of the transaction by the couple, and, as they thought, his father, does Willard have?”
“Don’t know.”
“Can you find out?”
Preston considered. “I think so. I might get at least one of the lads to talk. But first, my father has to agree to let me leave the house.”
Excellent.
“I’ll speak with Hampton,” Asquith said.
***
Lenora endured several grueling hours of persistent callers by adopting the stoic calm she’d often seen Asquith use. Some, like Lady Amelia, were genuine in their interest.
Still, a significant number had witnessed the pointed attention Willard had paid her sister the prior evening and lingered as long as possible, likely hoping he’d make an appearance.
All were disappointed.
At last, Lenora was able to excuse herself. She dashed upstairs, entered her chamber, and closed the door. Her fingers trembled as she unfolded Asquith’s note.
My darling,
She took in a gulp of air.
Distance, not lack of desire, has damaged our bond. For that, I take full responsibility.
I could have taken Adrian and Eliza into our confidence, so that you had support. I could have written first. I could have hired a courier to send our messages.
Again, I ask for your forgiveness.
Let us begin anew, and I give my word we will never again endure so long a separation.
Her breath came in rapidly spaced intervals, each one leaving her even more precariously balanced than the last. She sank onto the bed and held the missive to her chest for a few, long moments.
When her racing heart had slowed, she resumed reading.
Allow me to assure you in person. Please, I beg you, meet me in our place on Saturday at ten.
Faithfully, devotedly,
Simon
Wetness dampened her cheeks. She wiped her eyes.
He wasn’t a man of many words, and the two at the bottom, each with their own comma, told her everything. Precise, neat Asquith hadn’t been able to decide which closing to use.