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Matthew, first to arrive at the coffeehouse, chose a bench seat with a high back, tucked away in the corner. Most of the customers were seated around the large central table, newspapers of the day and pamphlets scattered before them, discussing the implications of a recent judgment, and prices for legal services, vacancies for clerks, and the delay at the courts. Serle’s patrons were mostly lawyers, juniors, clerks, and students seeking work. Clerks for rival chambers were seated at one end of the table, assigning cases for their lawyers; one or two clients hovered anxiously, hoping to meet their lawyers, some with sheafs of old papers hoping for free advice.
A stunned silence fell when Livia walked in and paused, savoring the attention. She looked around her as if she might buy the place outright. Mr. Hart bustled up to her, bowed, and offered to seat her; but she caught sight of Matthew rising from his corner table, and walked past the owner without a word. Her maid followed and drew out the chair as Livia put back her veil, kissed Matthew on both cheeks, and then seated herself. Her maid stood silently behind her.
Mr. Hart placed a small cup of coffee before her with a heaped bowl of sugar. Livia nodded, took a sip, and then regarded her son.
“You have spoken to the women of the warehouse?”
“To my foster mothers, yes,” he said, nettled.
She smiled at his pride. “They agree?”
“I had to speak to Captain Shore, he sails in the middle of June. He will reserve two berths for you. I had to tell him who would be aboard.”
“He will be discreet?” she demanded.
“He doesn’t want to be mixed up in it at all,” Matthew told her bluntly. “He won’t speak of it, and he hopes you will not have need of his ship.”
“They are royalists now?” she asked curiously.
“They take no interest in it,” Matthew said. “They are loyal and law-abiding, and they don’t want trouble.”
“But the brother in New England…” She waved a hand as if to show that she could not recall his name. “He was an old Cromwell soldier, was he not? Fled abroad after his defeat? He was on the other side, the wrong side?”
“I don’t know,” Matthew said cautiously. “It was a long time ago.”
“Long before you were born,caro figlio,” she said, suddenly turning her attention to him. “You have done very well for me. Your mother is grateful to her clever boy. You will be rewarded. You will see the benefit of serving me. Do I have to pay before we sail?”
“You do, and if you don’t sail, you lose your money,” Matthew said awkwardly. “I am sorry, but those are the usual terms.”
She shrugged her shoulders; her dark cape fell slightly open, and Matthew could see the gleam of jewels on her breasts in the low-cut gown. “It is of no matter,” she said. She nodded to her maid, who handed a heavy purse to Matthew. “This is enough?”
He untied the string and looked inside. “It is more than enough. About half would be—”
“Take it! Take it! It may be that you have to buy some things that we need, or pay a wherryman, or who knows what? But pay Captain Shore with it, and reserve our berths.”
Matthew nodded and pocketed the purse.
“And if we do not sail—if all this has been a fuss about nothing, as the English do—then I will introduce you at court,” she promised him. “I shall see you are rewarded whatever happens.”
“I don’t need a reward,” he said.
“We do,” she corrected him. “We who serve for love should be rewarded for our love.”
“I just want to finish my studies and become a lawyer,” Matthew protested.
“You shall be an ambassador,” she decided. “And you will need a seat, a country seat.” She gestured to the communal table where the men were talking and exchanging papers. “You don’t want to spend your life here, arguing with fools about details. You shall have a post in one of the foreign courts, or you shall become a judge, or advise the privy council. So you will need a name, a title, and land.”
Matthew gaped at her. “I wouldn’t know how to begin!”
“Not at once,” she agreed. “But it was always my intention that you should be a great man. I had hoped to get you Northside Manor; but Sir James is stubborn. The place is entailed on the next male heir, and he will not adopt you. Anyway—he will not die soon. Probably not for years.”
“I wouldn’t want Sir James’s place,” he exclaimed. “I couldn’t accept it. I wouldn’t be his heir even if he… At the warehouse… we don’t speak of him. There was some offense…”
She made a dismissive wave of her hand. “Old quarrels,” she said vaguely. “He and Alys are old enemies. From long ago. He injured her mother and they stole from him or something.”
“My grandmother Alinor would not steal,” he said flatly. “Nor my mother, Alys. There must be a mistake.”
“Oh! He adores Alinor!” she said airily. “And she forgave him. It’s all long ago. It matters nothing to us.”
