03 - The Wicked Lady (33 page)

He waited while the warden was summoned.

"Your Grace."
A tall thin man moved into the room. "I am Adam Williams."

"I would like to see my wife."

Williams rubbed his chin before he spoke. "With a master Felon, visits are only allowed in the hall with the prisoner behind--"

"But for a price you can make arrangements," Trevor cut the warden off.

Williams smiled. "Come with me," he said without further comment as he turned and went back out the door that he'd come through. "I heard we had a special guest, and I made sure we found an empty cell for her. Knew a ward would never do."

"What is that appalling smell?"

"It's the stench of Newgate, I'm afraid. After awhile one gets used to the odor."

"I, quite frankly, don't see how," Trevor muttered as he followed the willowy man through the hallways until they came to a big oak door.

Williams set his lantern down and pulled out his keys. He opened the door and stepped back so Trevor could enter.

Trevor ducked down and entered the dark pit. "There is no light."

Williams followed him with the lantern. "It is a dark day."

The weak light from the lantern reached into the room, casting long shadows across the filthy floor and shabby interior. Kristen sat huddled in the corner with her arms wrapped around her legs, her head resting on her knees.

She slowly lifted her gaze, squinting from the light. A slow recognition finally registered in the green eyes he knew so well, and she came off the bed to throw herself in his arms. "I dinna like it here. You must free me."

"I know, sweetheart." Trevor hugged her.

After he let her go, he turned to Williams. "Are there no better accommodations? This cell is deplorable."

"This is, after all, a jail."

Trevor arched a brow. "Yes, but I bet there are better rooms for a price. Am I right?"

Williams grinned. "You're a very smart man, Your Grace. For a five hundred pound deposit, I could put her into the Press Yard, and for a few more shillings she'd have clean sheets and blankets," he said with supreme confidence. "When Lord Grodon was incarcerated, he had his servants here also."

Trevor remembered the stories of Lord Grodon's parties he'd thrown in prison. Trevor realized that Williams intended to get every gold coin he could get his hands on.

"And how much thereafter?"

"Ten thousand pounds per week."

"Done," Trevor stated, then took his wife's arm. That was when he noticed the handcuffs. "I would like these fittings removed also."

"When we are at the other cell, I will give her easement of irons for a mere three shillings."

"Let's go," Trevor stated, thinking he would like to take this man out back and beat him to a pulp.

As they followed Williams, Kristen whispered, "I dinna want tae stay here."

"I know." Trevor slipped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder, wishing he could take her with him. "Unfortunately, because of the seriousness of the crime, I can't set you free."

"But he was no good."

"I know.  Now we'll have to convince a jury of that fact."

They reached the new cell, which was a vast improvement. It was clean and had plenty of light. It had two beds and the floor was made of oak plank, and it was large enough for the prisoners to walk and move about comfortably.

Williams waited, his hand outstretched, to collect the money.

Once the transaction was complete, Kristen was allowed in.

"Listen to me, Kristen. Don't do anything foolish."

She looked at Trevor. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Such as?"

"Swiping the keys and letting yourself out."

Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. "But, I dinna--"

"Kristen!"

"All right," she muttered hastily.

"I have to go. I will have Rebecca bring over some of your things, and she can stay with you."

"She doesn't have tae to stay," Kristen said.

"Rebecca asked to stay with."

Tears filled Kristen's eyes as she watched Trevor leave. That man was forever making her promise one thing or another. Now she was stuck with no chance of escaping. She just hoped Trevor had a firm plan to get her out of here. This time she would have to trust him. She just hoped she wasn't being bloody stupid. At least, she'd have some company when Rebecca arrived.

However, deep down she wished Trevor would be the one staying with her. She could stand captivity a little better being held in his arms.

Chapter Nineteen

Trevor went to see John Winthrop, a highly recommend barrister. Trevor explained his situation and all of Kristen's background, then sat back and waited as John and his partner, Edward Gates, discussed the case in the next room. Finally, Winthrop came back into the office and sat behind his desk.

"This is a most interesting case," Winthrop said, then cleared his throat. "My one worry is your wife's background before you married her. By your own admission, she was a thief and quite capable of murder."

"Kristen didn't murder the man. It was self-defense," Trevor was quick to remind Winthrop.

"I'm sure it was." Winthrop nodded his head in agreement. "However, the prosecutor might decide to dwell on Kristen's background and further damage her reputation. Does she not have a family who could vouch for her?"

"She does have a grandfather and a sister," Trevor reluctantly admitted.

"Then I suggest you have them at court. We will need their help."

Trevor stood, thanked Winthrop, then left. He had tried everything he could think of to try and avoid this meeting with Ian Johnstone. When it was obvious that Ian was his last resort, he saddled up his horse and made the short trip to the Scotgrow.

Reigning in his horse, Trevor looked across the green fields at the gray stone manor. He had to admit the home was impressive and nearly as large as Chatsworth.
Nearly
, he smiled to himself, but Chatsworth was still more impressive. Kristen's relatives had done well for themselves.

Trevor drew in a long, deep breath. Nothing would happen if he continued to sit here. He nudged his horse and they cleared the final distance to his first meeting with the enemy.

Trevor was glad he'd sent word of his arrival ahead. He wouldn't have to do any explaining at the door. A rather large brute met him at the door, and showed him to a sitting room, where he waited for Ian to make his appearance. Trevor wasn't too sure how to handle this meeting, but he bloody well wouldn't beg the man for his help.

"And to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" A Scots voice boomed out behind Trevor.

Trevor swung around. He wasn't sure what he expected--maybe some small, feeble old man stooped over from the years. Certainly not this hulk of a man who was just as tall as himself, and reasonably fit for his age. He saw the resemblance to Kristen in Ian's sharp, green eyes and his faded reddish-gray hair.

"I must speak with you. It's a matter of great importance," Trevor said, deciding it was better to come straight to the problem at hand.

"I dinna believe we have a thin' tae discuss except for Kristen." Ian raised a bushy gray brow. "What have ye done with my granddaughter?"

"Kristen is exactly what I need to discuss with you." Trevor tried to remain patient, but he feared his anxiety showed in his voice.

"What have ye done to her?" Ian grabbed Trevor's coat.  If ye have hurt the lass, I'll kill ye here and now."

Trevor shoved the man's hands away fr
om him, and narrowed his eyes. "I haven't done anything with Kristen, but she is in trouble and needs our help. So keep your bloody temper in check. Shall we sit down?" Trevor pointed to a set of tall black chairs that sat opposite each other in front of a huge stone fireplace. "And I'll explain what has happened the best I can."

Ian grunted and grumbled, muttering under his breath. Finally, after a tense moment, he sat down in one chair and motioned for Trevor to take the other. The perfect place for two opponents.

"Kristen is in prison," Trevor said bluntly. It wasn't the best place to start, but he wanted Ian to understand the seriousness of the matter.

"What!" Ian shouted and jumped out of his chair. His face
had turned as red as an apple. "By the saints above, what happened?" He threw his hands up in the air as if he expected an answer from the heavens.

Trevor watched the old man's reaction with a observant eyes. The Scot was too damn excitable. He wondered how much help he would be. "If you don't remain calm, you'll be no bloody help to Kristen," Trevor said between clenched teeth, trying to keep his temper under control. "Let's get one thing straight, I don't like you any more than you like me. However, if we are going to free Kristen, we will have to work together."

"Not bloody likely!" Ian's eyes blazed with a sudden anger. "Never could trust a Claremont."

"Then I suggest you start now, or Kristen will hang."

That statement knocked the wind out of the old man and he slowly sank back down in his chair.

Good, Trevor thought. Maybe he could get through this without any more outbursts. "Kristen killed her stepfather."

"He wasn't her stepfather!"

"Precisely. And that's exactly what we need to convince the judge. You know how Kristen grew up."

"No, I dinna know. We've never spoken about it. Always thought there would be time later."

"Then I shall tell you." Trevor drew in a deep breath and shifted in the chair, impatiently wanting to get down to the problem. "Kristen grew up in the streets. She was underfed and basically had to pick pockets in order to survive. From what I can gather, Ned, her stepfather, beat her every time he started drinking."

"Saints above! I dinna know." Ian shook his head sadly. "I'd probably have killed that mon myself. And the woman if I'd got my hands on her. She stole my granddaughter and robbed my little girl of her childhood."

"I agree. The situation is sad," Trevor said. "We can't do anything about her past, but I hope we can do something about the future."

"What do I need tae do?"

Trevor finally felt like he was getting through the man's thick head. He leaned forward, propping his elbow on his knees. "Kristen's trial is in three days. We need to pull together and show that she was a victim of the man. We must convince everyone that she is a good person who ended up in a bad situation."

"Aye," Ian said, then grew quiet. "After she's acquitted, then what?"

"Kristen will be free, of course."

"That's not what I meant."

Trevor eyed the crafty old buzzard. "Then what do you mean?"

"Are ye smelling a trap now?" Ian grinned. "I will help ye, but I'll be wantin' something in return."

Trevor should have known this wouldn't be easy. What did the old buzzard have in mind? "And what may that be?"

"I've been deprived of Kristen for all these years. Ye can't imagine what it has done tae me." Ian looked Trevor dead in the eye. "The Claremonts have robbed me once before--"

"And what's that supposed to bloody mean?" Trevor snapped, barely controlling his own temper. "I stole nothing from you!"

"I think ye know, but now is not the time tae discuss such matters. I want ye tae promise me that when Kristen is free that ye'll send her tae me, so I can spend some time with her." One corner of his mouth twisted upward. "Besides ye don't love her."

"You don't know a damned thing about me!" Trevor exploded as he rose and looked down at Ian. "Kristen is my wife."

"Aye, and ye wed her when she had little choice in the matter, if I recall the story correctly."

"True, we had an arrangement."

"Then why don't ye give her a chance tae make a choice of her own free will?" Ian demanded. "Or are ye afraid she won't choose ye?"

Trevor resented being backed into a corner, and he particularly didn't like having his fears thrown back at him. However, he did need to present a stable front with Ian's help, so he could free Kristen.

He would agree to anything as long as it would help Kristen. Trevor clenched his fists tightly and said with a vague hint of disapproval, "I will agree to send Kristen with you when she is set free as long as you agree to let her come home to me if she so chooses."

"Done!" Ian stood and offered his hand.

Trevor noted the pleased look on the man's face and wondered just what Johnstone thought he'd won. Trevor frowned and didn't bother to take his hand.

As they sized each other up, the door opened and a young woman breezed through. Trevor glanced around Ian at her, then stopped and looked again speechless. Kristen had told him about her sister, but he was completely unprepared to see another woman who looked so much like his wife.

Ian turned and looked in the same direction. "Keely, girl. Come meet Kristen's husband." He gestured toward her. Keely approached shyly and offered her hand.