Page 134 of A Rogue in Firelight
“What brings you here?” Sir Hector asked.
“A judiciary matter,” Ronan said. “As it happens, I am an advocate.”
“I heard that recently,” Sir Hector said. “Wish I had known earlier. Mr. Corbie has filled me in on some events of the past weeks. You have been—perseverant, sir,” he added, with a pinch of the lips that Ronan could not quite decipher.
“I hope so,” Ronan drawled. “Has Mr. Corbie told you what he and Pitlinnie were up to in the Highlands last week?”
“This is not the time, MacGregor,” Corbie muttered.
“Darrach,” Ronan corrected, fixing a searing gaze on him.
“Sir Hector, we have some business to complete,” Corbie said. “We must hurry. Sir Neill has documents to sign.” He gave Ronan a smug smile. “Speaking of Glenbrae.”
“That can wait,” Sir Hector said. “What exactly is your business today, Darrach?”
“Mr. Cameron and I intend to submit a warrant for the release of two individuals in Calton Jail.”
“Impossible,” Corbie said.
“On what grounds?” Sir Hector asked.
“We cannot disclose that here in a public space,” Hugh said. “You understand.”
“Sir, you are welcome to accompany us if you wish to know more,” Ronan said.
“I do want to hear this,” Sir Hector growled, gesturing for Ronan to open the door to the judiciary area. As the deputy lord provost went inside, followed by Hugh, Ronan shut the door firmly before Corbie and Pitlinnie could enter.
“Go easy, man,” Hugh warned.
“I will,” Ronan clipped out.
Entering the judiciary office area, Ronan hardly glanced at the people in the room—a few men, two women. Approaching the clerk, he began to speak when Sir Hector stepped up beside him.
“Mr. Robertson, which justices are still here?” he demanded.
“Sir, Jameson and Beaton are here, I believe. We close soon.”
“I am aware. This way,” Sir Hector told Ronan as he cut around the clerk’s desk and left the waiting area with hardly a glance around. Ronan and Hugh followed.
Ellison gasped tosee Ronan and her father on the far side of the room. She rushed toward the desk, Sorcha hurrying after her. “Ellison, what is it?”
“I do not know,” Ellison said. Then she caught her breath, seeing another man walk toward the same desk. “Mr. Corbie!”
“Why, Miss Graham,” he purred. “You cannot go back there without authority. What brings you to Parliament Hall today?”
“I am submitting papers,” she said, folding the papers she had just completed and sliding them quickly into her mesh reticule.
“Just as I suggested. Good. You remember Sir Neill Pitlinnie,” he continued.
“Aye,” she said stiffly, glancing past them to the door where Ronan and her father had gone. “Why is Papa with Darrach?”
“I do not know, but Sir Hector will likely see to Darrach quickly,” he drawled.
“What have you done, Mr. Corbie? And why are you and Pitlinnie here?”
“Just signing papers. And looking forward to the celebration in the city.”
“Come, Sorcha, we will find out what is going on.” She took Sorcha’s arm and rushed past the desk as the clerk sprang up.
