The Barrister and the Letter of Marque Read online

  “Yes.”

  “So your father knew that your cousin claimed he would be seizing French vessels, operating under a British Letter of Marque?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you or your father actually see the Letter for yourselves?”

  “No. But we had assurance from my cousin that he’d received the Letter and that it was genuine.”

  “And you say there were other investors?”

  “That’s how we acquired the Letter of Marque. After we purchased the Padget, we were in need of additional investors to finance the merchant ship’s operation. In response to an advertisement, my cousin was approached by a solicitor named Mandy Bristol, representing owners of a corporation. Mr. Bristol informed us that those investors could supply a signed Letter of Marque authorizing the taking of the cargo of French vessels, and would do so in exchange for receipt of twenty percent of the profit of the first voyage.”

  William straightened, his chest tightening. “Did you say Mandy Bristol handled your business arrangement with the investors?”

  “Yes. Do you know him?”

  “I do. Did you personally meet Mr. Bristol’s clients?”

  “No, they wished to remain anonymous. My cousin dealt with Mr. Bristol alone.”

  William settled back in his seat. “All right. Please go on. And I’d next like to know why, if your cousin has the protection of a Letter of Marque justifying his actions, he’s been detained at all.”

  “I don’t have an answer to that. You see, Mr. Snopes, I can’t find my cousin.”

  The room grew silent once more.

  “I don’t understand,” William said. “You said he was arrested.”

  “A more appropriate description would be that he’s disappeared. The ship remains in the harbor, with the crew gaoled aboard her, though my cousin was taken ashore. I was at the harbor when the arrest occurred. After receiving news via a Gibraltar mail packet that Harold had arrived there and expected to reach London this month, I’d traveled to the Thames harbor with a good friend each night of the previous week until a very late hour, hoping to greet my cousin’s return. My carriage had just arrived on the harbor road when I saw the soldiers leading Harold from his ship. By the time I’d inquired of the constables remaining at the ship, my inexperienced driver was unable to locate the soldiers’ wagon carrying Harold in the fog. Since that night, I’ve asked at every constable’s office, garrison, and prison in London for over eight days, and no one admits to any knowledge of my cousin or his arrest.”

  William looked quizzically to Obadiah, scribbling notes in the corner. The young solicitor looked up at William and shrugged.

  “You checked at Newgate Prison, then?” William asked. “It’s the most likely destination for such an offense.”

  “It was the first place I checked. I’ve been back twice more.”

  Obadiah groaned. “We all should pray he isn’t in Newgate Prison. It isn’t a fit place for man or dog.”

  “Or woman,” William added, fixing his gaze back on the lady. “Something’s obviously wrong here, but I can’t believe your cousin has simply disappeared. There must be some administrative error.”

  “So I thought. But it’s been eight days.”

  William pondered a moment. “Do you realize that, as owners of the vessel, you and your father are at risk of arrest and prosecution yourselves?”

  “I do.”

  “And you know that piracy is a capital offense? Punishable by hanging?”

  “Yes. My father and I know the risks. Now I would be pleased if you’d tell me if you’ll take the matter on. My cousin took this voyage in hopes of settling his fortune and supporting his marriage to a young woman. He has always been too good a man to even conceive of perpetrating fraud. His naval career grew him in discipline and honor. Before he sailed, Harold left a note with the very friend who accompanied me to the harbor last week, confirming his receipt of the Letter of Marque. Mr. Snopes, I know my cousin well; he wouldn’t have sailed without the Letter, nor would he have taken a French ship without legal leave granted by that letter. He and his crew were operating under authority of the Crown. They don’t deserve any punishment for their actions.”

  The clarity and firmness of the statement impressed William. The lady was harder than her youth and beauty would suggest. Despite her skepticism of attorneys, her adamance stirred William with concern for her.

  “I trust that loss of the ship and its cargo would work a hardship for you and your father as well as your cousin?”

  “Of course. With the funds advanced to buy the ship, it would be a devastating blow. The ruin of our estate, in fact. But my first concern, and that of my barrister, must be my cousin’s freedom.”

  William looked again at the solicitor, who stared back uncertainly.

  “Lady Jameson,” William said at last, “all I can say at present is that I don’t know if I will accept your case.”

  The lady looked as though she’d expected the rebuff. “I assume that it’s a matter of payment . . .” She reached into a valise at her feet, withdrawing a small bag that she dropped onto the desk. “That’s nearly one hundred pounds. I can, of course, provide more.”

  “Keep your payment,” William said, seeing surprise in the woman’s eyes. “Keep it until I’ve made up my mind.”

  Downcast with disappointment, Lady Jameson retrieved her bag as William glanced out the window at gray skies. With Crown involvement, this case had the potential of fire. Uncontrollable once started.

  He doubted she fully appreciated the depth of her trouble.

  “If you claim it’s not the money, then why do you hesitate? Do you believe my cousin has a poor case?”

  “I believe that your case carries much risk, even beyond the courtroom. Resisting a challenge from the Crown, Miss Jameson, usually carries a cost.”

  “Your solicitor implied that you care little about public opinion or the repercussions of a public case.”

  William smiled tepidly. “He said that? It’s a foolish barrister who would invite hostility from the public that will sit as jurors to judge his future clients. The people love and despise their sovereign. Taking a case against the Crown’s interests, big or small, is always a throw of the dice. And a case of piracy will make a headline in every paper from here to Paris. Many of your strongest detractors, Lady Jameson, you will find among your own social circles.”

  “You don’t know my social circles, Mr. Snopes. I don’t care about public opinion. If you do, then perhaps I’ve come to the wrong man.”

  “Perhaps you have. There are far more prominent law firms in London, with counsel who thrive on representing people of station, or cases awash in politics.”

  “Mr. Snopes, as I told your Mr. Cummings, I’m not looking for a barrister of prominence. Whoever took the ship has the authority to summon constables and soldiers and the apparent ability to hide my cousin from me. I don’t know why they’ve chosen the Padget for their attack. But I’m afraid I won’t be able to match their power or gold. My only hope for success is superior skill in a courtroom. Where a jury is the arbiter of truth, and money and connections don’t matter.”

  William shook his head. “Where money and connections may matter less, perhaps,” he corrected. “How can you be reached once I’ve made a decision?”

  Her shoulders fell beneath a look both crestfallen and confused.

  William refused to be moved.

  “I need to return home to care for my father,” she answered. “It’s at least a four-hour ride, on the main road to the Essex coast, near the village of Staunton. I’ve already sent my manservant ahead with my carriage.”

  “Very well. We’ll reach out as soon as practicable.”

  “I’d prefer we meet here in London. If you send a messenger, I’ll come straightaway.”

  “As you wish.”

  She rose to go, Obadiah and William rising with her. Her face had lost the challenge she’d arrived with, now looking disappointed and drawn.r />
  “Please consider the matter seriously,” she pleaded once more.

  “Of course.”

  The office door had barely closed behind her when Obadiah turned to William.

  “Since when did you become such a respecter of the Crown?”

  “I’m turning over a new leaf, Obadiah,” he said, then winked. “I’m concerned for the young lady, but I won’t be pressed into a decision on such a case.”

  Obadiah shook his head. “Pressed into a case? You mistake me. I thought you’d decline it on the spot. Since I’ve known you, you’ve always declined political disputes. You’ve refused to get mixed up with the high-and-mighty. Though I admit this would certainly be a substantial financial case, Mr. Snopes. Purchasing and outfitting a ship must have run the lady and her father twenty thousand pounds or more.”

  “It would very much be a political dispute, Obadiah, one already staged with constables and seizures. And to answer your question, of course it gives me pause.”

  “I wonder where the lady will find help if we’re unwilling. She’ll discover that one hundred pounds goes a much shorter distance than she imagined in a matter like this.”

  “It will be difficult,” William admitted.

  “What of her cousin’s disappearance? What do you make of that?”

  “Disturbing, but not the greatest warning sign. A ship accused by the Crown of piracy, docked in London Harbor, and a fortune in tea impounded? Eight days have passed and the newspapers haven’t printed a sentence about it. News like that should run through London like wildfire. Why so silent? Silence and discretion can be much more expensive than a good barrister. If this is a Crown prosecution, as is most likely, has the prince regent quashed any word of these events in the press? Why so? And another thing: why haven’t we heard the least stir among our colleagues at the bar? Wouldn’t the other investors, the ones who supplied the Letter and hold a twenty percent stake, have gotten counsel of their own by now?”

  “You’d think so,” Obadiah acknowledged. “Though you should at least have taken the retainer. What if she goes to someone else while you’re deciding? With Patrin’s trial over, things are slow just now.”

  “If she goes elsewhere, then we’ll find another case or take a well-deserved rest. Now fetch Edmund. Despite his display, his doubts about the lady’s story weren’t wrong, and you know he can sense a liar from three courtrooms away. Fill him in on what he missed and bring him back.”

  Moments later, standing before the desk, Edmund looked like a defiant dog that had just been beaten with a stick. William stared up at him without flinching as the mantel clock ticked off a full minute.

  “What was that display?” he finally demanded. “Attacking a prospective client like that? And a young lady, no less? You come in here today looking like you’ve slept in your clothes, if you slept at all, and proceed to keelhaul her. Explain yourself.”

  Edmund remained silent.

  “Edmund, I will say this only once. You will never again, in my office or in my employment, attack a person who’s entered this office seeking our assistance—especially a young woman. Whether they reveal it or not, clients usually arrive at our door in fear and under oppression. You will not use whatever skills you’ve learned under my tutelage as weapons to probe their weakness. Good grief, man, I shouldn’t need to say this to you. You and Obadiah aren’t in the boys’ home any longer, and I’ve never been your headmaster. But you are less than a year beyond the bar—far too soon to disguise moodiness as wisdom. Your conduct reflects on me as well, you know. So if you won’t say what’s troubling you, at least straighten up as my junior. Do you understand?”

  Edmund nodded reluctantly.

  “Good. Now, you made it very clear what you think of the lady. Set aside your prejudices and tell me what you think of the lady’s case.”

  Edmund shook his head, responding slowly. “It makes no sense, sir. When has the Crown issued Letters of Marque in peacetime the past century? And against the French? We’re only a few years past a long war with Napoleon. The royal treasury’s exhausted. The London markets are in tatters. Even the wealthy are cinching their belts tightly these days. Our prince regent is no genius, and he may not like King Louis, but he can’t want another war so soon. Loosing privateers to prey on French merchant ships is inviting one.”

  “A single privateer, so far as we know.”

  “Even one. And another thing: why would she and her father invest with partners her father doesn’t even know—putting his estate at risk to do so? The rich can be fools, but that smacks of lunacy.”

  “Maybe they had little choice. You saw how modestly she dressed. A product of the financial problems you mention, perhaps? This Padget may have been serving as a single roll of the dice to save all.”

  Edmund shook his head again. “I don’t believe it. Are you seriously considering taking her case?”

  “Perhaps. I thought you had a heart for the downtrodden, Edmund.”

  “Yes, sir, for the downtrodden. Not for the wealthy, weeping for their diminished fortunes. And besides, Obadiah said she offered a hundred-pound retainer. What desperate victim does that?”

  “Do you have any idea what it costs to operate an estate? Especially in these hard times? A solvent owner would have offered much more.”

  “She’s also lying,” Edmund rushed on, growing more passionate. “Or at least telling us only a fraction of the truth. No, she’s of the same class as those who’ll prosecute her unfortunate cousin.”

  “Maybe at one time,” Obadiah chimed in. “But her carriage says otherwise. I’ve a feeling that a hundred pounds is quite dear to her.”

  Edmund wasn’t wrong. Nor was Obadiah. It would be a political battle such as he’d avoided so many years now. But features of the case made him reluctant to simply walk away.

  William took a breath. “Well, gentlemen, I’ve decided to at least investigate this further. For a start, I want you to canvass the prisons, Edmund, as Lady Jameson claims to have done. See if you can learn whether and where Captain Tuttle’s been imprisoned. If so, interview the man or at least arrange for a visit.”

  Edmund’s eyes widened, though William noted, to his satisfaction, that he held his peace.

  “Don’t look so put upon, Edmund,” William said. “I haven’t asked you to defend the lady, only to assist in finding her cousin. Obadiah, I’d like you to go to the East End wharves and confirm the existence of this treasure ship full of tea. And for now, try to do it without arousing notice of our interest.”

  “There must be hundreds of ships docked this time of year, sir, and I neglected to ask the lady the Padget’s specific whereabouts.”

  “Given that it’s unaffiliated with any shipping companies, it’s likely in the Metropolitan docks on the northern side of the Thames. Let’s plan to meet in the morning to discuss what we’ve each found. Do you still belong to the Union Club, Obadiah?”

  “I do.”

  “Good. Pick me up at my room in the morning and we’ll go there for breakfast.”

  “And you, sir?” Obadiah asked.

  “Me? Did either of you recognize the Mayfair solicitor Lady Jameson identified as the agent for the silent investors?”

  “Mandy someone,” Obadiah replied. “No, I didn’t.”

  Edmund shook his head as well.

  “I’m not surprised. He keeps a low profile as a solicitor. It’s been many years, but I handled a case referred to me by Mr. Bristol when I was a young barrister. Back before he’d gained a reputation for representing a certain class of client that paid well and demanded great discretion. I plan on visiting the man now.”

  6

  HOME OF DOROTHY EMERSON MARKS

  WESTMINSTER, LONDON

  “I wish you hadn’t arranged this,” Madeleine repeated to her friend. “I really need to be getting back to Heathcote this evening.”

  Dorothy stood before a tall mirror, toying with curls that fell to her cheeks. Her skin was fresh and young, her eyes
wide and untroubled. She was a loyal and goodhearted friend, and Madeleine loved her deeply. But she couldn’t help wondering, despite her expressions of concern, if Dorothy could even begin to understand the troubles surrounding Madeleine’s family and the Heathcote Estate—or the financial woes of so many others, even of her own class in these stormy times since the war. Dorothy’s countenance reflected life sheltered by prosperity and a “proper marriage” at age nineteen into a family that enjoyed the favor of the Crown.

  “My dear, dear friend,” Dorothy replied, “I won’t hear another protest: I insist you stay one more night. You’ve been treated unfairly, Madeleine. And for what? Just because your family has suffered a few financial setbacks? It’s a temporary state of affairs, I’m quite sure, and not the fatal disease people make of it. You must stay, I insist. We’ll show all the world how foolish and shortsighted they’ve been about you and your family. They’ll embrace you and love you once more, just as I do. You’ll see.”

  Treated unfairly? Madeleine produced another smile for her friend. Dorothy’s innocent spirit rendered her genuinely incapable of acknowledging even the evidence before her own eyes. Madeleine had deliberately withheld from her the full details of her family’s plight and hadn’t whispered a word about her visit to the barrister’s office. Dorothy had accompanied Madeleine the night of Harold’s disappearance—even witnessed the Padget’s seizure—and still acted as though tonight’s dinner party was the most important matter in the universe. Such an incapacity to see beyond her privileged surroundings was a trait beyond Madeleine’s understanding.

  Yet Dorothy had never wavered in her friendship with Madeleine and her family, even after invitations to social events for London’s winter gatherings or the rest of the year in the countryside had ceased arriving at Heathcote Estate. Her isolation made Dorothy’s friendship that much more precious to her.

  “I fear you’ll be embarrassed,” Madeleine said. “Especially given your guest list tonight. The Fetterlys are kind but deeply prejudiced. Sir Ethan Covington isn’t kind or forgiving and a bulldog about social propriety. Dorothy, I don’t want you to be muddied by the same waters as my family.”