She forced herself to think of Rhys, his terror, his helplessness.
"Maybe it is not justice I'm asking for, but mercy? He needs someone to speak for him…" She gave a painful little laugh. "Even literally! I don't believe he's purely evil. I've spent too many hours with him, close to him. I've watched his pain. If he did these things, there must be some reason, at least some cause, which explained it to him! I mean…”
"You mean insanity," he finished for her.
"No, I don't "Yes, you do, my dear." His voice was very patient, trying not to hurt her more than he had to. "A young man doesn't rape and beat women he doesn't know, then murder his father because he found out, if he is anything that ordinary men and women would recognise as sane. Whether the law will make the same nature of distinction I don't know. I very much doubt it." His eyes were filled with sadness. "It is precise as to what insanity is, and the fact that Rhys attacked his father suggests he knew very well that his violence against the women was wrong, which is what the law will view. He knew what he was doing, and that is the crucial factor.”
"But there must be something else!" she said desperately. "I can't let it go at that! I've watched him too often, too long…”
He rose to his feet and came around the desk towards her. "Then let me make arrangements to come and see him for myself, that is if Mrs. Duff wishes me to represent him…”
"He's not underage!" she said hotly, rising also. "It is if he wants you to!”
He smiled with dry, rueful amusement. "My dear Hester, if he cannot speak or write, and has no occupation of his own, he will not only have very little power to defend himself, he will have no financial means.”
"His father was wealthy! He will have been left provided for!" she protested.
"Not if he killed his father, Hester. You know that as well as I do.
If he is convicted for the crime, he cannot inherit.”
She was furious. "You mean he cannot have a defence because if he is found guilty he will not be able to pay? That is monstrous!" She was so angry she almost choked on the words. "It's…”
He put both hands on her shoulders, holding her so firmly she was obliged to face him.
"I did not say that, Hester! I think you know me better than to imagine I work only for money…”
She swallowed. She had cause to be ashamed. She had come to plead with him to take on an impossible case, because she believed he would.
"I am sorry.”
"But I do work within the law," he finished. "In the circumstances I shall have to speak first to his mother." His lips twisted with genuine humour. "Although I imagine that with you in the house, and doubtless in charge, I shall find her co-operative.”
She blushed. "Thank you, Oliver.”
He said nothing, but made a little sound of acquiescence.
It was mid-evening before Rathbone arrived at Ebury Street. Hester had informed Sylvestra of his willingness at least to consider the case, and Sylvestra had been too confused and unhappy to argue. She had consulted her own solicitor, a mild man skilled in the matters of property, inheritance and finance, and totally out of his depth where the criminal law was concerned. He was to brief anyone recommended to him, and willing to undertake such an unpromising cause.
"Sir Oliver Rathbone," the butler announced, and Rathbone came into the withdrawing room almost on his heels. He was as elegant as always with the ease of someone who knows his own power and feels no need to impress.
"How do you do, Mrs. Duff," he said with a very slight smile. "Miss Latterly.”
"How do you do, Sir Oliver," Sylvestra replied with a commendable calm she could not have felt. "It is good of you to have come. I am not sure what you can do for my son. Miss Latterly speaks most highly of you, but I fear our situation may be beyond any help. Please do sit down." She indicated the chair opposite and he accepted.
Hester sat on the sofa, a little removed from them, but where she could watch both their faces.
"One does not always know what a defence will be until one begins, Mrs.
Duff," he replied calmly. "May I assume that you wish your son to have any assistance that is possible, in his present tragic circumstances?" He looked at her patiently, gently, as if his words had been a simple question and without pressure.
"Yes…" she said slowly. "Yes, of course. I…" Her face was composed, but it was plain from the shadows under her eyes and the fine lines of stress around her lips that it cost her very dearly. It would be inconceivable that it should not.
Rathbone smiled immediately. "Of course you cannot yet see what can be done. I admit, neither can I, but that is not unusual. Whatever the truth of the matter may prove to be, we must see that, as much as possible, both justice and mercy are served. That cannot be unless Mr.
Duff is represented by someone who will fight as hard for him as if they believed him valuable, capable of hope and of pain, and deserving every opportunity to explain himself.”
Sylvestra frowned. "You are already a brilliant advocate for him, Sir Oliver. I could not possibly disagree with anything you have said. No one could." She sat without moving, a touch of immobility in spite of the emotion which must be tearing inside her. It was an extraordinary self-discipline, learned over the years to have the strength to apply now. "What confuses me is why you should wish to represent my son,” she continued. "And it is obvious from your presence here, let alone your words, that you do. I know better than to imagine you are some young man seeking to make a career and a name for himself… not that you would choose this case if you were. Nor are you so hungry for business that you would pursue any case at all. Why my son, Sir Oliver?”
Rathbone smiled, and there was a very faint touch of colour in his cheeks.
"For Miss Latterly's sake, Mrs. Duff. She feels very strongly for Rhys's plight, regardless of whether he should prove guilty of this or not. She persuaded me that he needs the best defence he can obtain.
With your agreement, I shall do all in my power to see that he has it.”
Hester felt the blood burn up her own face and she looked away, avoiding Rathbone's eyes, in case he should glance in her direction.
She had used his feeling for her, perhaps even misled him, because she was uncertain of her own emotions. She was guilty, but she did not regret it. She would do the same again. If she did not fight for Rhys, there was no one else who could.
Sylvestra relaxed at last, the rigidity easing out of her shoulders.
"Thank you, Sir Oliver, both for your honesty and for your compassion for my son. I fear there will be few others, if any at all, who will feel the same for him. He… he will be regarded… I think… as a monster." She stopped abruptly, unable to go on. The words were too hard, too painfully true, and it was a future which loomed within days, not weeks. It would be the pattern of life from now on. The world would be changed for ever.
Hester wanted to argue, just to offer any comfort at all, but it would be a lie, and they all knew it. Anything she said would only belittle the truth and imply that she did not understand.
Rathbone rose to his feet. "It will be my task to see that everything that can be said for him is put as eloquently as possible, Mrs. Duff.
Now I would like to speak to Rhys myself. Perhaps you would allow Miss Latterly to take me upstairs.”
Sylvestra rose also, taking a step forward.
Rathbone held up his hand in a very slight gesture.
"If you please, Mrs. Duff, I require to see him in effect alone.
What passes between a barrister and his client is privileged and must be confidential. Miss Latterly will be party to it only in her capacity as his nurse, in case he should become distressed and need her. She will be bound by the same absolute rules.”
Sylvestra looked taken aback.