“Has since passed away. Her nephew manages the rent, but makes sure to keep his distance so as to avoid tarnishing his own reputation by association.”
“I see.” Charlotte sipped her tea which had now grown tepid. She set the cup aside and folded her hands in her lap. “Do you know where Seamus might have taken James?”
“Possibly to the Police Court in the Lawnmarket,” the maid suggested. “He’ll want the constables there to help with James’s arrest and imprisonment until a trial can be held.”
Mrs. Callanach nodded.
“Thank you.” Charlotte glanced at Marcus to see if he had anything further to add. When he kept quiet, she said, “We’ll head over there straight away to see if he’s there. And then we’ll acquire a solicitor to help in his defense.”
“Would a barrister not be better?” the maid asked after sharing a hesitant look with her mistress.
“I’m hoping one won’t be required, seeing as I intend to prevent a trial. Which I suspect would also be in Seamus’s best interest. Let’s not forget that stirring up the past in a public forum would not be beneficial to his reputation either.”
“No, but it could secure his position as his brother’s heir, which is likely why he’s doing this,” Marcus said. “And money might matter more to him than public opinion.”
“In any event,” Charlotte said, “we shall be in touch with you both as soon as we know more.”
Mrs. Callanach made a new note. I’d like to see him.
“And I am certain he’ll want to see you as well.” Charlotte smiled at the woman she hoped would become her mother-in-law. “Rest assured, I will do all I can to ensure your son’s acquittal.”
When Charlotte was back in the carriage, she turned to Marcus. “That poor woman. Can you imagine the hell she has been through, first in her marriage, then as a widow?”
“I almost wish her husband would rise from the dead so I can kill him,” Marcus said.
“She cannot speak because of him and then, as if that weren’t enough, she was told her son had died. Never mind the damage done to her reputation because she decided to take a lover. Which I’ll allow is not a commendable choice, but given the fact that her husband did the same and beat her, I really can’t blame her for trying to find a few moments of happiness for herself.”
“Neither can I.” Marcus gave her a grim look. “Mrs. Callanach’s situation is to be pitied, not criticized.”
“I’m sure Seamus had a hand in branding her the worst sort of harlot while turning his brother into a saint. And she could not even speak in her own defense.” Charlotte cast her gaze out the window as the carriage tumbled along the cobble-stoned streets toward the Lawnmarket. She could not wait to come face to face with Seamus Callanach, because she was very determined to give that man a piece of her mind.
19
Seated on a rickety wooden bench in his cell at the Police Court, Blayne pondered the events that had brought him so low. His uncle had clearly been threatened by Blayne’s reappearance. He’d referenced the notion of Blayne attempting to come back and claim what belonged to Seamus on more than one occasion. Blayne hadn’t argued. He’d not seen the point when he knew the law was against him. So he’d accepted his fate – the one that had been chasing him for so many years – and walked into the Police Court without the slightest resistance two days earlier.
“Mr. Callanach,” a clipped tone spoke from beyond the bars. “Ye’ve two visitors.”
With the weariness of a man well into his eighties, Blayne stood. It would probably be his uncle’s prosecutor with his clerk, although he’d not expected either to arrive until later. He snorted. The speed with which they’d shown up was a testament to how eager Seamus was to put an end to things.
Sighing, he approached the bars and waited. Still dressed in the clothes he’d put on six days ago when he’d gone to get married, he felt like hell. There had been no chance to bathe along the way, no opportunity for privacy. He’d slept in the same room as the two men his uncle had hired to guard him, which meant he’d barely slept at all.
A soft feminine tread accompanied by the firm clip of men’s boots approached. Blayne shrugged. He supposed the prosecutor’s clerk could be a woman. But when Charlotte’s lovely face materialized before him, he was forced to blink several times just to make sure she was real. It wasn’t possible, yet there she was with Marcus by her side. Her smile was brittle, but it held as she reached out and clasped his hand through between the bars.
“It is so good to see you again,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Stepping closer, she pressed up against the bars so she could kiss him. “I’ve been so terribly worried and concerned for your wellbeing, Blayne.”
His heart thrummed in response to her sweet caress. “Ye ken now that’s not my name, lass.”
“It always will be to me.” She took a step back. “Unless you prefer I call you James.”
He shook his head. “Why are ye here?”
“To get you out of this mess so you and I can get on with our plans.”
A startled laugh escaped him. “I’m going to hang for murder. My God, Marcus, whatever were ye thinking, bringing her all the way to Scotland?”
“It was actually she who brought me,” Marcus said.
“I tried to bring Guthrie,” Charlotte said, “but he and Regina have recently learned they’re expecting, so he was reluctant to leave her side. Besides, Marcus has been meaning to travel to Scotland anyway in order to visit the university. This seemed like a good opportunity.”
“Naturally, my intention is to help you first,” Marcus said. “The rest can be handled once we’ve seen to your release.”
“Guthrie’s going to be a father?” Blayne found the notion strangely amusing.
“Never mind that. Right now, we need to focus on stopping your uncle from accomplishing his nefarious goal.” Charlotte raised her chin. “We’ve spoken to your mother from whom we’ve learnt a great deal – things I’m sure you are not aware of.”
Baffled by her expediency, Blayne could only stare at Charlotte in wonder while she continued to tell him all manner of things, like how his mother could no longer speak after what had happened, how his father used to beat her, and how she’d been denied any chance at defending herself or Blayne.
“I am convinced a competent solicitor can have this entire case torn to pieces before it’s even launched,” Charlotte continued. “After all, your father was the one who murdered Mr. Hollander. You yourself only struck your father with the candelabra as a last resort, and you did so in order to save your mother’s life. The fact that her larynx was crushed just proves she would have died had you not interfered when you did.”
“I can scarcely credit the lengths ye’re willing to go to on my behalf,” Blayne murmured as tears crept into his eyes. He did not want her to see him weak, but it couldn’t really be helped. She’d completely undone him.
“Would you not do the same for me?” she asked with a wry smile that knocked his heart into higher gear.