A Matter of Principle (44 page)

“
Sir Ezra has expressed his desire to return to North Carolina immediately,” Rickard explained to Nick. “So we do have some business to settle.”

“
That’s true, Rickard. Lily and I abused your hospitality for far too long as it was.” Sir Ezra lifted his cigar to his lips and puffed contentedly. “Now I shall take my son, Ezra Warpold Kensington II, to my home and settle into the roles of bereaved widower and doting father.”

“
God speed, Sir,” Nicolas offered, wondering why Rick summoned him. He puffed his own cigar for lack of anything better to do with his hands.

“
Before you go, Sir, we must settle the estate,” Rickard ventured.

Sir Ezra frowned. “Estate? My estate?”

“
No, Sir…” Rickard demurred, bemused.

“
What then?”

“
Lily’s claim on half of
this
property.” Rickard looked more than a little irritated. “Sir.”

“
Oh, that! Of course,” Sir Ezra waved cigar smoke away from his face.

“
I have figured out what half this estate is worth and—”

“
What are you going on about?” Sir Ezra interrupted.

Rickard stopped, his mouth open. “Sir?”

“
Lily’s claim was simply that.” He shrugged. “
Her
claim.”

Nicolas glanced from one man to the other. Rickard paled.

Sir Ezra puffed his cigar again, obviously enjoying the moment. “The way I see it, Rick, Lily wanted to own half of this estate solely for the purpose of revenge.”

“
Yes,” Rickard said cautiously.

“
And now, to be frank, she’s not going anywhere
else
, is she?”

“
No.” Rickard’s expression lightened.

“
So go on and give her half the damn thing!” Ezra laughed at his own joke. “As her only heir, you get it right back!”

“
What about her son?” Nicolas broached the possibility. “Might he lay claim?”

Ezra lifted one brow and pointed his cigar at the ceiling. “If I died today, that baby up there would inherit enough from me to buy twenty estates this size. I doubt he’d be interested.”

“
Would you mind writing something out, just in case, relinquishing Lily’s son’s rights?” Nicolas pressed.

“
I’ve no problem with that!”

Rickard fumbled for paper and a quill, and watched Sir Ezra eliminate any possibility that another claim could be launched.

“
There you go. It’s the least I could do.” Ezra dropped the quill in the inkwell.

“
If it’s not too unseemly of me to ask,” Rickard began. “If you have that much wealth, why was Lily doing what she was?”

Ezra puckered his lips, and slid his gaze from Rickard to Nicolas and back again. “I have my theory.”

“
And that is?” Nicolas asked.

Ezra leaned back in his chair. “She said she wanted you to father the child, Nicolas. It’s why we came. The other was leverage, I guess. Thinking you’d do it to protect Rick.”

“
But she was already ‘caught’! The live baby upstairs proves that!” Nicolas protested. “Didn’t she know?”

Ezra shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. In any case, I’ll be off early tomorrow morning.” He stood and shook Nicolas’s hand, then Rickard’s. “It has been a pleasure meeting you gentlemen. I hope you both have successful futures. Please give my best to your wives.”

Sir Ezra downed his brandy, tossed the stub of his cigar into the fire, and exited the study.

“
Well that about beats anything I’ve ever heard!” Nicolas stated.

“
And it almost worked,” Rickard muttered. He looked at Nicolas, relief flushing his features. “It almost worked.”

May 4, 1822

Cheltenham

Sheriff Nathan Busby stood in front of the Hansen’s front door, hat in hand, and looking very uncomfortable.

“
What can I do for you, Nate?” Nicolas asked.

“
Nick, you and I have known each other a long time, haven’t we?”

“
Most of our lives, I reckon. Why?”

The sheriff shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Sometimes, things happen, and laws have to be followed.”

Nicolas’s gut turned to water. “What happened?”

“
Charges have been filed.”

“
Against me? For what?” Nicolas steeled himself for another onslaught to his character.

“
Not against you, Nick.” Sheriff Busby winced.

“
Who?”

“
Sydney.”

Nicolas was flooded with rage. His heart pounded and his grip on the door turned his knuckles white. “What the hell?
Hva i helvete
?” he roared. “
Gud forbanner det all til helvete!
”

“
Nicolas?” Sydney appeared at the top of the stairs. “What’s amiss?”

“
Stay there!” he pointed and bellowed.

“
Nick, that’s not going to help,” Sheriff Busby soothed.

Nicolas rounded on him. “You! Shut your mouth!”

Sydney descended the stairs, slowly. “Sheriff? Is my husband to be arrested again?”

Nathan Busby slid his hands along the rim of his hat. “No, Ma’am…”

“
Well that’s a relief!” She smiled and continued down the steps.

“
It’s you he wants this time,” Nicolas growled through clenched teeth.

Sydney froze. “Me?
I’m
to be arrested?”

“
Beg your pardon, Ma’am. But I have to follow the strict guidelines of the law.” Sheriff Busby continued to fidget with his hat.

“
What’s the charge, Sheriff?” she asked in tone more level than Nicolas could imagine achieving.

“
Um, murder.” He bobbed his head. “Ma’am.”

Nicolas heard Sydney heave a heavy sigh behind him. “What must you do?”

“
I need to take you into town and, well, lock you in the jail.”

Nicolas swung around to look at his wife. Her chin was up, her back was straight. Her gaze, gone stormy gray, met his. Her jaw was set.

“
May I change clothes first?” she asked.

“
Go ahead, Ma’am. I’ll wait.” Sheriff Busby was visibly relieved.

Sydney turned and climbed the staircase like a queen. Nicolas left the sheriff standing in his doorway and followed her, taking the stairs two at a time.

He yanked the bedroom door closed. “This is
oksedritt!
You did not kill Lily!
Gud forbanner det all til fucking helvete!
”

Sydney grabbed him by his shirt. He focused on her, with some effort. “No. I did not kill Lily. Go get Nelson Ivarsen.”

“
You are damned right I’ll get Nelson!” Nicolas broke from her grasp and paced the room. Memories of his own arrest and incarceration flooded him. “I shall leave off the reel!”

Sydney selected a simple wool dress from her wardrobe, and the half-corset Nicolas had made for her; they were more comfortable than the more formal clothing she had been wearing. She also selected a cotton shift instead of linen. And she grabbed her fur-lined cloak.

“
To sleep on,” she explained at Nicolas’s puzzled look.

“
At the least, you have a chance to prepare,” he said. “And no one is beating you brutally in the process.”

Sydney laid a hand on his cheek. He looked down into her eyes, now more green than gray, and her parted coral-colored lips. Her cheeks were splotched with red, the only betrayal of her distress. “Just bring Nelson. I have witnesses. The charges will be dismissed.”

He bent to her lips and kissed her very well. “I love you,
min presang
. I’ll rescue you.”

“
I’m counting on it.”

As soon as she was gone, he changed his clothes, ran to the stable, and saddled Fyrste for the ride to St. Louis.



Sydney sat on the bench in the tiny Cheltenham jail cell and mentally counted off her blessings.

It’s a warm May 4
^th
, not a frigid January 4
^th
.

I was not beaten.

I was allowed to change clothes and speak to my children.

Nicolas is on his way to St. Louis and Nelson Ivarsen.

Mrs. Ansel provides meals for the prisoners.

I have witnesses.

And I’m not precisely guilty…

When Lily stopped breathing, Sydney cut her. She was shocked when Lily gasped, but it was too late by that point. The knife did not kill her; such an injury would not be immediately fatal. And Lily did not bleed much. If she was vital, the wound would have bled a lot.

It didn’t.

I did not kill her.

Chapter Thirty Three

May 4, 1822

St. Louis

Nicolas tethered Fyrste in front of Nelson’s law office. He pulled the door open and strode inside. Nelson looked up from his desk.

“
Nicolas!” he cried. “What brings you here?” He rounded his desk, smiling broadly.

Nicolas stopped and considered the elder barrister with narrowed eyes. “What’s changed about you, Nelson?”

He reddened a little. “I’ve married.”

Nicolas stepped back in surprise. “You? When? To whom?”

“
Last month. To the woman you sent me.”

“
The one with the three young boys and a nasty drunk for a husband?” Nicolas remembered her; she had come to him, looking for work before he left for Norway. “I assume you took care of the husband, then.”

“
In short order.” Nelson shook his head. “He was a bad piece of work, I assure you.”

“
And the boys?” Nicolas tried to imagine Nelson as a father.

“
Oh, they’re coming around. Good hearted, really. Just needed some solid guidance.” Nelson paused. “And love.”

Nicolas smiled at his old friend, in spite of his own situation. “And you have the love?”

“
My world has opened up, Nick. Who might have expected that at my age?” Nelson shook his head, bemused.

“
As I recall, she was quite young. Still in her twenties?”

“
That is correct.”

“
And is it, uh, what would be considered, um, a
complete
marriage?” Nicolas stammered.

Nelson laughed at that. He gripped Nicolas’s shoulder and laughed at the taller, younger man’s awkwardness. “It is consummated. Several times over, I assure you.”

“
Then congratulations truly are to be extended, sir!” Nicolas offered his hand.

Nelson grasped it tightly and winked at Nicolas. “In fact, I believe I have found a wonderful new hobby to occupy my evenings!”

“
Ah!” Nicolas sobered. “I’m afraid I am denied that particular ‘hobby’ at present. Sydney has been accused of murder. She is right now in the Cheltenham jail.”

“
Sydney?” Nelson squinted his disbelief at Nicolas. “Your wife, Sydney?”

“
One and the same.”

“
Whom did she kill?”

“
She did not kill anyone!” Nicolas blustered.

Nelson nodded, waving his hand dismissively. “No, of course not. Whom is she
accused
of killing?”

“
Rickard Atherton’s youngest sister, Lily Atherton Kensington.”

“
Under what circumstances?” Nelson walked back to his desk.

“
She was summoned to a birth,” Nicolas began. He told Nelson the entire story.

“
I did speak with Rickard concerning Lily’s claim to half his estate.” Nelson mused. “Are there any witnesses?”

“
Bronwyn Atherton was there the entire time. Rickard and I both heard Ezra Kensington’s directive to save the child. And, of course, there is the slave girl, Taycie, who has been apprenticing with Sydney.”

“
Anyone else?” Nelson peered at Nicolas over a pair of reading spectacles.

“
Only the other midwife, Berta O’Shea. I suspect that she is the one who brought the charges,” Nicolas speculated. “She and Sydney do not see eye-to-eye on midwifery, so Sydney tells me.”

“
I will speak to all of these people immediately,” Nelson wrote furiously. “There is no court in Cheltenham so Sydney will be brought to St. Louis for trial. I shall see if I cannot have the charges dropped before that happens.”

“
Thank you, Nelson. You saved my hide two years ago and I have faith that you will do the same for my wife.”