Page 60 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
“Oh.” Sebastian felt his heart thud. He had hoped to ride to Ramsgate again in the afternoon. He wanted to share the good news with Eleanor at once. It was folly, he knew, as he was so exhausted he could barely stand up, and riding when he was so tired would be quite perilous. But he had to try.
“Well, we shall see,” the judge said, and stood up slowly. “Come,” he added, gesturing to Sebastian. “He is in the office across from mine.”
“Oh,” Sebastian said again. He felt his mood ease somewhat and he followed the judge out of the door and into the hallway.
“Camberly?” the judge called through the door, tapping on it. Sebastian held his breath. He prayed inwardly that the manwas there. As he stood there, he heard someone call out and his heart raced.
“Who is there?” the voice asked. He could have been angry or neutral. It was impossible to tell. He wasn’t overjoyed about being interrupted, that much was obvious in the brisk, swift tone.
“It’s me,” Judge Westgate said mildly. “Alford. I’m surprised you don’t know I’m the only one in this building. It’s teatime.”
The door opened abruptly, and a tall man with a straight back appeared. He was smiling.
“Alford! Come in. What is it?” he asked. Then he saw Sebastian and frowned. “What is the matter?”
“This young fellow is here. He’s Randall Thornton’s boy,” Judge Westgate explained. “He has a matter to discuss. Shouldn’t we go in? We’re not supposed to air legal matters in the general public, you know.”
“We’re in a corridor,” the man whose name was Camberly replied lightly.
“We are. And in this building, the corridor pays more attention than a dozen ears. You know people listen.”
Camberly nodded. “Come in.”
He stood back to let them into his office, which smelled of dust and bricks, like the rest of the building. An enormous desk of rare hardwood stood in the middle of the floor, and the walls were whitewashed and plain. Sunlight leaked in, illuminating the desk, but the room was cold, and Sebastian drew his coat around him. He thought of Eleanor wearing it and his heart leaped happily. He tried to focus on what the two men were saying.
“Thornton?” Camberly asked.
“Yes. Randall Thornton. You remember him. He read jurisprudence at Cambridge along with us.”
“I do,” Camberly nodded. This close, it was possible tosee that he was the same age as Judge Westgate and Papa; his square-jawed face looked younger, but there was a good measure of gray in his black hair.
“My father thought you could help,” Sebastian said, looking at Judge Westgate. The older man sighed.
“I know. Which is why, Hugh, we’ve come to ask you something,” he explained, addressing Camberly.
“What is it?” He asked. Sebastian looked out of the window, aware that Hugh Camberly was watching him with interest. He could vaguely recall the fellow, but he strained to bring the memory to the surface of his thoughts, the memory evading his exhausted brain like fog.
“Recall there was that fellow who evaded the law? Montague, his name was.” He glanced at Sebastian, who nodded. “Thornton claims he didn’t do it. He’s related to him, you see.” He looked at Camberly with wide eyes. “But there is evidence to suggest that his story is not fictitious. Montague may well have invested the money. There is evidence for it. In the first hearing, this was discussed. The case was meant to be further discussed next week, but Montague fled before it could be heard.” He made a surprised, incredulous face.
Sebastian looked at Camberly. He wished he could remember where he knew him from. It was up to him to decide, and he held his breath, waiting for him to speak.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked Judge Westgate. He sounded unsure, his voice cold as if he did not want to be part of any illegal agreements, whatever they were.
“Well, we can’t let the fellow off entirely,” Judge Westgate began. “Not now, certainly.” He paused. “But we could lessen the penalty. He could pay a fine. That would save him going to jail.” He looked at Sebastian, who nodded.
“He could pay a fine?” Camberly asked.
“I can,” Sebastian said. His throat was tight. He had notknown until that moment what he was going to say. He held Camberly’s gaze. “I can. I will pay for it for his family. He has children. They will be condemned to the workhouse if he goes to jail. I will not let it happen.” His voice was harsh with emotion.
Camberly studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Yes,” he said.
“What?” Sebastian blinked. After arguing with Judge Westgate for a quarter of an hour, he had expected to have to do the same once more. He stared at Camberly in amazement. The fellow nodded.
“I will accept. If you think it’s acceptable, Alford, then I cannot disagree with you. After all, you are the judge.” Camberly smiled briefly.
Judge Westgate inclined his head. “Well, I agree. I don’t want to see this mess continued. We all want children to live full, happy lives. Do we not?”
Sebastian nodded. “My lord judge, thank you.” He swallowed hard. He had never felt more grateful for anything—or, not since Papa had survived and regained his health, he had not.
