Understanding settled on Celine. In addition to being Bastien’s lackey—delivering blows to poor fools in rancid alleyways— Arjun was also the lawyer mentioned in passing last night. Bitter amusement warmed through Celine’s body. She was not surprised to know Bastien kept among his closest acquaintances an attorney, undoubtedly at all hours of day and night.
“Then . . . you’re a barrister?” Pippa asked, a breeze playing with the ends of the blond curls framing her heart-shaped face.
“Of a sort,” Arjun replied without missing a beat. “I know the law inside and out, even if I’m not permitted to practice it.”
A quizzical expression passed across Pippa’s features. “I don’t understand.”
“More’s the pity.” Another punishing grin took shape on his face. “My skin is not the right color, Miss Montrose, nor is my parentage. Surely you of all people understand that.”
“Excuse me?” She blinked, consternation clouding her gaze.
“Based on your accent, I’d wager you’re from Yorkshire. A proper English girl, through and through.”
Color flooded Pippa’s cheeks. “Yes, I’m from Yorkshire.”
“Then you’re no doubt well aware that a scrapper from East India would never be permitted to work as a barrister in any circle of significance.” Tucking his bowler hat beneath his arm, Arjun stored the coriander cutting inside the breast pocket of his grey frock coat. “That’s by design, in case you didn’t know.” He laughed to himself.
“Not all of us believe in such notions,” Pippa said softly.
“That may be true,” he said, “but all of you definitely benefit from it.”
Pippa paled as she struggled to respond.
Knowing full well this conversation was not going in her friend’s favor, Celine interjected with a small curtsy. “Thank you very much for going to such trouble on our behalf, monsieur . . .” She waited for Arjun to offer his surname.
“Desai.” He looked away from Pippa and cleared his throat. “But please feel free to call me Arjun, as I do think we’re past those kinds of formalities.” His hazel eyes twinkled.
“I appreciate you coming here today to advocate on our behalf, but I’m afraid we lack the means to pay you.” Celine fought the urge to squirm under his steady gaze. “And I would not want to take advantage of your valuable time.”
He snorted. “It appears we both dislike being indebted to others. And though my time is indeed valuable, you needn’t concern yourself with payment. Bastien will handle all the expenses.”
The sheer arrogance. Of both men. Celine’s gaze narrowed. Pippa glanced at her sidelong, wearing a look of supreme unease.
“And why would he do that?” Celine pressed.
Arjun tilted his head from side to side, considering. “I couldn’t speculate as to his reasons. A wise young woman once told me we are only privy to our own thoughts.” A half grin curled up his face as he reminded Celine of her words from last night.
Celine could feel her lips starting to pout. She kept quiet, letting her eyes answer for her.
“Brava, Miss Rousseau,” Arjun commented. “I’d advise you to maintain that indignation throughout the course of today’s inquiry.” He took a step closer to Pippa, narrowing the gap between them in one fell swoop. “Keep silent unless you are absolutely certain the next words you speak are beyond reproach. Make the quiet your friend. Bask in it.”
It was Celine’s turn to snort. “Simple enough. You’re merely asking us to behave as the ladies we’ve been raised to be.”
“I’d wager that to be an easier task for some than for others.”
Celine bit her tongue, refusing to let him incite her.
Pippa frowned. “There’s no need for you to make such slights, sir,” she said. “It’s unbecoming of you.”
“The truth is often unbecoming. But that does not make it unwarranted.”
“In your opinion.” Pippa raised her elfin chin, prepared to do battle.
Celine did not want Pippa to fall prey to Arjun’s provocations, so she decided it was best to change the subject. “You still haven’t answered my earlier question, Monsieur Desai. Why would Monsieur Saint Germain take on the expense of providing us with legal representation?”
“I told you last night, Miss Rousseau,” he replied. “Bastien is merely doing what he does best. Don’t see it as anything else. He would have done as much for anyone in need of assistance, as he’s done for countless other young ladies in the city.”
“How magnanimous of him,” Celine countered in a cool tone.
A smile ghosted across Arjun’s lips. “Trust that he is most concerned with putting a swift end to anything that might negatively affect his family’s businesses.”
Well. Celine sniffed, her indignation mounting. It bothered her immensely that Bastien had taken it upon himself to make decisions for them, without even consulting them first. Not to mention that if her suspicions were correct—if Bastien did indeed have something to do with Anabel’s untimely death, as the yellow ribbon in his pocket suggested—he was in essence pouring drinks for them from a poisoned well.
Moreover, Celine hated the idea of owing him anything.
She could refuse. But that would be foolish and prideful. The benefit of having a legal mind present for the events to come should outweigh her concerns for what the far future might bring.
Arjun dusted the brim of his bowler hat. “I believe the detective is waiting for us inside the Mother Superior’s office,” he said. “If you would care to take advantage of the boon being offered you, please lead the way. But if you’d rather be damned fools, I’ll bid you both good day.”
Celine bristled further. At least she would not be guilty of selfishness or arrogance in this instance. “Pippa,” she said, turning toward her friend, “what do you think we should do?”
Pippa glanced from Arjun to Celine and back again, her expression thoughtful. “Even though we have nothing to hide, I do think it would better to have a barrister with us, don’t you?”
“I agree.” Celine nodded. “We thank you for your assistance in this matter, Monsieur Desai. Please convey our appreciation to . . . your employer.”
For I certainly won’t, Celine finished in her head.
Dark amusement glimmered in Arjun’s gaze. “Shall we?” he said to Pippa and Celine, indicating they should lead the way inside.
Neither of them dared to step forward. Arjun’s thick brows tufted together as he turned toward Pippa. “Don’t worry yourself too much, Miss Montrose,” he said softly. “You have nothing to hide. To quote Launcelot, the truth will out.”