Sir Gideon Derwent and Sir Montague Harris had worked between themselves to fill the jury with gentlemen sympathetic to the plight of game girls, reformers who tended to blame men like Payne for the women's downfalls. Payne, standing fearfully in the dock with his face sporting half-healed bruises, was condemned to hang, and taken down.
Black Bess and her laborer lover, Tom, had been tearfully reunited, and Bess had scarcely let go of him when they'd met up again after the trial.
Pomeroy had been surprisingly cheerful even so. "Got my man," he said. "Congratulate me, Captain."
"And Bess has hers," I remarked, shaking his hand.
Pomeroy shrugged. "Aye, well, she's proved too fickle for me. Besides, I have me eye on another." With that he flashed a grin across the cobbles in front of the Old Bailey. I followed the grin to see it caught by Felicity, who returned it with a sultry smile.
"Good Lord. I thought you did not trust her."
"I don't," Pomeroy said. "But I know where I stand with Felicity, and just how far to take things. Besides, she's a beautiful lady, ain't she?"
"You are a brave man, Sergeant."
He laughed. "Right you are, Captain. I'm off then. Call on me when you find another dead body." He'd strolled away in Felicity's direction, whistling.
Soon after, Black Nancy kissed me goodbye and departed for Islington and her hostler. "He's a good man," she said. "He does well by me, and he must be missing his Nance."
"Thank you, Nancy," I said. "For all your help."
She grinned and patted me on the shoulder. "Anytime for you, Captain. You know, I could take to this investigating business. Next time you hunt a kidnapper, or a murderer, you just sing out for me, and Nance will come a-running."
I'd laughed and hugged her hard, to her delight. Giving me an impish wink and a pat on my backside, she'd gone away home.
In Lady Breckenridge's drawing room, we turned the talk to the upcoming summer months. The Derwents were going on holiday to Italy, taking Leland and their daughter and Gareth Travers with them, to hopefully warm the treacherous cough from Lady Derwent's throat.
Grenville spoke of his own estate and the hunts in which he'd partake. He had invited me to accompany him, and then, in an act of generosity that touched and humbled me, he told me that the stallion he'd purchased at Tatt's had been intended for me all along. The horse could stay in Grenville's mews, tended by Grenville's grooms, but he was mine.
"This is a stunning gift," I told him. "Especially after I spit in the face of our friendship."
Grenville waved that away. "I learned that you still loved to ride but lacked a horse. And so…" He shrugged, as though considering the matter unimportant. I remembered telling Lady Breckenridge that I'd missed riding in almost those words. The two of them had been embarrassingly kind.
Grenville planned to take Marianne with him to his estate this summer and be damned to those who were shocked by it. He and Marianne had traveled together to Berkshire to visit David before the trial, and Grenville had returned home much subdued.
"Dear God, Lacey, what she has borne," he'd said to me. "She can have everything I have. All of it."
They had much to smooth out between them, but I suspected the process had begun. Marianne clung possessively to Grenville's arm tonight, and the looks he gave her were openly fond.
My duel with McAdams over his comments at Tatts came to nothing. As Grenville had predicted, the man left England before Payne's trial. Just as well. Dueling was illegal, and I'd have gotten myself arrested, but I did regret that I couldn't at least put a bullet into the man's shoulder.
Lady Aline said she would make a round of country houses before returning to her own in September, and she spontaneously invited all of us to spend time with her there. We accepted with pleasure.
When our party began to break up and drift home, I found myself at one point alone with the Brandons. "Lacey," Brandon said. He shook my hand, then I gave Louisa a light embrace and a brief kiss.
"We retire to Kent for the summer, as usual," Louisa said. "Please say you will join us for a time."
I looked from Louisa to her husband. Louisa would not ask unless she meant it, but it all depended on whether my former mentor wanted me or not. To my surprise, he nodded. "Do, Lacey. Perhaps we do need to find out what happened between us."
I saw the plea in Louisa's eyes. For her, I said, "Very well. Set aside a bed for me that is on the hard side. I am used to that."
Louisa's smile flashed, relieved. She had been worried that I would blame her for Gabriella's disappearance, as she did herself, though I had tried to reassure her as much as I could. She would always regret it, but at least she had the knowledge that Gabriella was safe at home.
As the Brandons departed, the last guests to do so, Lady Breckenridge slipped her hand through the crook of my arm and smiled warmly at me. She'd dressed her hair how I liked it, in long curls, with a few caught and held by a diamond pin.
"So many country house visits for you," she said. "Lady Aline, Grenville, the Brandons." She squeezed my arm. "And I promised my mother I would bring you home to Oxfordshire with me at the end of June. Shall you come?"
I touched her chin, bent, and kissed her. "I would be delighted."
Before I ran off to enjoy my summer bliss, I had to settle the question of divorce from my wife and my guardianship of Gabriella.
Carlotta and Auberge met with Denis and me in the parlor of their boardinghouse with some trepidation. Carlotta had said very little to me since Auberge and I had returned Gabriella, and she did not look at me as we waited for Denis to spread long pieces of parchment across a writing table.
Gabriella reposed on a worn Sheraton chair, her hands held calmly on her lap. She insisted on being here with us, although Carlotta had tried to dissuade her. She was seventeen now, Gabriella had said, and this was her fate as well.
Gabriella sent me a serene look. She had endured much, I could see in the shadows beneath her eyes, but she sat upright, determined not to be broken by it. My heart swelled with pride in her.
Denis cleared his throat, as dry as any solicitor. "Captain Lacey has asked me if the process of freeing the both of you can be expedited. As I outlined previously, dissolving a marriage entirely is a long and expensive process, designed to discourage such a thing."
Carlotta looked downcast, Auberge, stoic.
"However," Denis continued without pause, "I am a man of means, and a man of special circumstance. I have… business acquaintances
… in the Doctors Commons and in Parliament, many of whom owe me rather large favors."
Since one of Denis's practices was to maneuver men into seats in the House of Commons and other high places by means of manipulation and outright purchasing, he was able to control the outcome of certain issues. A man owned by Denis did exactly what Denis wanted.
"The official separation will be easily achieved," Denis went on. "In fact, I have a gentleman who should be signing the papers for that even as we speak. The conviction of criminal conversation will be handed down without a lengthy trial, and without you having to appear, Mrs. Lacey. The captain will have to make a brief testimony, and I have provided for that as well. The private Act of Parliament to dissolve the marriage entirely will take more time, but I believe it can be done by the autumn."
I stared at him, and so did Auberge.
"This must cost you much," Auberge said.
"Quite." Denis's cold blue gaze flicked to me. "The captain will pay me back for the endeavor."
"I will," I said. "Every ha'penny."
Denis inclined his head, pretending to acknowledge my resolution. "I have a few papers for you to sign, Mrs. Lacey, and then you may go back to France and lose yourself as Colette Auberge. I will notify you when the divorce is final so that you and the major may return, sign the final papers, and begin your life of wedded bliss."