Sophie had been thinking things over since the day at the ruined abbey, and she’d come to a few conclusions. “Eleanor,” she said, drawing the lady a few steps aside. “May I ask you to help me do something?”
She told Eleanor what she had in mind in a few short sentences, and Eleanor listened in delight.
“Well, of course.” Eleanor sent her a broad smile, and then one to David, who looked suddenly suspicious. “Leave it to me. Wait for my message.”
“Thank you.”
Sophie squeezed Eleanor’s hands, who returned the squeeze. Eleanor accepted Dr. Gaspar’s assistance into the cart, David climbed up after her, and Uncle stood back and waved.
David tipped his hat to Sophie as the butcher’s boy started the cart with a jerk, and they rolled away. His look held both curiosity and misgivings, but Sophie trusted that Eleanor wouldn’t breathe a word.
David slept at his London flat that night, every moment agony as he alternately missed Sophie and dreamed erotic dreams of her. In the morning he took time to bathe and make himself presentable before he turned up at a horribly early hour at Essex Court in Middle Temple to meet Sinclair, Lackwit Laurie, and a barrage of solicitors.
He had not been able to pry out of Eleanor what she and Sophie had been whispering about before he’d rolled away from the vicarage. Eleanor had only given him one of her serene gazes and spoke determinedly of other things. He was not certain whether to be worried or amused. Worried—he should most definitely be worried.
David reflected, as he reached Essex Court, that he’d grown so used to Pierson dragging him up at dawn that he entered the meeting at Sinclair’s chambers relatively refreshed and wide awake.
On the other hand, Laurie, the Earl of Devonport, looked as though he’d been dragged from the warmth of sleep, poured into a suit, and dropped on Sinclair’s doorstep. His eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed, his hands trembling with dissipation. David did not like to think that for most of his life, he had appeared the same.
“Fleming,” Laurie said with a sneer as they all took chairs. “I am glad you’ve condescended to join us. We can put an end to this nonsense.”
David crossed his elegantly booted feet. “Indeed. I look forward to you vanishing from Miss Tierney’s life.”
Laurie’s sneer grew more pronounced. “So you can have her yourself, you libertine.”
“You mistake me. I am acting as her friend, attempting to free her from a terrible situation. What she does after that is entirely up to her.”
“Your idea of annulment has failed, damn you.” Laurie clutched the arms of his chair, but his eyes gleamed in triumph. “As I am here to reveal.”
Sinclair, who could be both silent and heavily present at the same time, adjusted his cuffs. Laurie’s two solicitors fussed with papers, pretending to ignore their client’s boorishness.
“Why are you so adamant about divorce?” David asked, as though merely curious. “Annulment will free you to re-marry without fuss. Divorce complicates matters.”
“Because there are no grounds for annulment.” Laurie nearly shouted the words. “As I told you before. I had no choice.”
“Ah, so better that it is Sophie’s fault than yours.” David’s voice went hard. “I warned you, Lackwit. You ought to have taken my advice.”
“I did. I let myself be tested for impotence.” Laurie flushed, as though too delicate for such matters. “A rather humiliating ordeal, but I am happy to report that I passed with flying colors.”
“Poor man. The ladies pleased you, did they?”
“They did.” Laurie smiled, his eyes sparkling.
Sinclair cleared his throat, a dry but powerful sound. “Perhaps, your lordship, you will let me share the testimony of the ladies in question?”
Laurie’s flush deepened. “Why not? Then Fleming will leave me alone. That is, after I sue him for poking his fingers into my private business.”
“That sounds disgusting.” David sat back, resting his hands easily on the arms of his chair. “I wouldn’t put my fingers anywhere near your private business. Carry on, McBride. Let us hear the worst.”
Sinclair cleared his throat again. He was very good at it.
“I need not read the entire statement of either lady present at the examination. The gist from Mrs. Lane and Mrs. Whitaker is that at no time during the procedure did Lord Devonport show any physical response to them. They vow that he remained flaccid the entire hour.” Sinclair dropped the paper, his cheekbones tinged red. “No matter how much or how often they tried.”
Laurie gaped in astonishment. Not a pretty sight—he was developing jowls. Some men retained handsomeness for life, but Laurie wouldn’t be one of them.
Laurie gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles were white. “That is a damned lie. You’re in his pay—of course you’d claim that.” He glared at David then snarled at his solicitors. “Speak up. Read the statements. Do what I pay you for.”
One of the solicitors raised his head, his expression strained. “We have the same testimony, my lord.” He held up a sheaf of papers.