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Jemima believed her, but she knew that not everyone would. Rebecca was very charming to look at. She was young, intelligent, fun to be with, and heiress to a great deal of both power and wealth. No matter how good she was, she would never be free of enemies. Didn’t Patrick know that? Perhaps not. He didn’t belong to a stratum of society that had possessed time and money for such considerations. The devil makes work for idle minds, even more than for idle hands.
“I just think we shouldn’t make all the decisions for her, as if she hadn’t the wits or the courage to do it herself,” she said at last. “Now please, don’t let us talk about it anymore. What are you going to do tomorrow?”
“I know what I’m going to do tonight!” He pulled her a little closer.
“Oh, yes?”
“Oh, yes!”
She went to him, laughing and willingly, suddenly immensely relieved.
* * *
—
JEMIMA DELIBERATELY GOT up early the next morning, before Patrick awoke and, with any luck, before Cassie and Sophie awoke either. She slipped on a robe, borrowed from her mother, and went quietly down the stairs, to find Daniel sitting at the dining-room table. They had stayed up late, and he had been easily persuaded to sleep in his old room for the night.
He looked up when she came in, surprised to see her. “Good morning. Going somewhere?”
“No, at least not yet. Is that tea still hot?”
“You want a cup?”
“Please.” She picked up one of the cups and saucers set out at the end of the table and passed them to him to pour.
He had finished the cooked part of his meal and had started on toast and marmalade. He poured the milk, and then tea. He did it without asking her. He knew how she liked it and assumed that it had not changed. It had, but she did not mention it.
“Thank you. I came down because I wanted to see you before you went.”
He froze halfway through buttering a slice of toast. “Oh?”
She smiled. “Not that bad. Patrick told me about the embezzlement charge against Sidney, and that you and Kitteridge are going to defend him?” It was not really a question, but she made it one.
“Yes…” Daniel said cautiously. She saw the apprehension in his face. She could read him so easily. He had no idea how swiftly his face reflected his emotions, especially his eyes.
“All I want you to do is go and see Sidney as well. I mean, don’t let Kitteridge be the only one. You have to be sure of the justice of this case, that you’re doing the right thing…” She stopped. What she meant was, don’t let Patrick’s emotions run away with you, but she was not prepared to put it in such blunt words. How could she be sure that he understood?
He looked at her and shook his head. “Stop it. I’ll always be younger than you, but it gets to mean less and less with every year that goes by. Of course I’ll go and see Sidney. I promise.” He took a deep breath. “Jem, is there something you know that you’re not telling me?”
“No!” She looked at him and saw the seriousness in his eyes, in the tense fine lines in his face.
To her, he still looked so young. She could see the boy in him without even looking for it, especially at the crown of his head where his hair curled and would not lie flat. “I’m just not as sure as Patrick is that public disclosure of what happened would be good for Rebecca. I don’t know what she wants, but I mean to ask her.”
“Do you know something that I don’t?” he said suspiciously.
She burst into laughter. “Sweetheart! Of course I do! I know hundreds of things you don’t, and probably never will! I’m a woman…”
“Yes. I noticed that about twenty years ago,” he said drily. “It doesn’t mean that much!”
“Yes, it does! You tempt me to use language that would curl Mother’s hair! Men can order things, people, events. Women have to persuade, understand, even manipulate a bit…”
“Never!” he said immediately, stifling his laughter with difficulty. “Not you, surely? Manipulate? Mother would be appalled!”
She threw her toast at him and hit him and, thank heaven, he only burst into laughter.
“Very subtle!” he said when he had stopped laughing and wiped the butter off his cheek. “And manipulative.” He picked up the toast from the floor, where it had landed. “You’re the only person I know who can do that: throw toast and have it land butter-side up.” He said it as if it were an achievement. Then suddenly, he was serious. “Jem, of course I’m going to look into it seriously, very seriously indeed. I’ve got some idea of what’s at stake. Justice for Philip Sidney, whatever that turns out to be. It is possible he’s innocent. Either way, it needs to be proved. And as much justice as possible for Rebecca, but only if she understands what that entails. Legal justice isn’t the same as public judgment. I want to make sure she knows that. Sidney has to be tried for the embezzlement now, but it isn’t too late to decide not to disclose anything about the assault. Once that becomes public, you can’t ever take it back. We have to make sure she understands that. And probably the most important to us—you and me—is that Patrick didn’t do something that looks like private vengeance, like he used police influence in the courts to exact a price he couldn’t get in Washington, where the crime that matters took place. I know all that, and I’ll see that he knows it, too. I like to win, but not at my client’s expense, and certainly not at my sister’s expense.”
Jemima’s eyes filled with tears, and she was furious with herself. “I know,” she said huskily. “I’m sorry. I’m…scared.”
