Katie Rose (6 page)

“What happened?”

“Jared’s details were a little too thorough for some of us,” Charles said, grabbing McAlister’s flask and offering it to the older attorney. “Have a drink and pull yourself together. We have the rest of the cases to review.”

Whitcomb looked sheepishly at Winifred, but he obediently tossed back a large quantity of McAlister’s whiskey. Then he got to his feet and took his chair with dignity, as if nothing at all had happened.

Charles hid a groan. So much for discouraging Winifred. Of everyone present, she appeared the least disturbed. “What else is on the roster?”

“The usual robberies, assaults, and burglaries.… We also have the Black case, the woman who is locked up for trying to poison her husband. I am sure it will never go to trial. These things always blow over. By tomorrow, she and her husband will be desperately in love again.”

There were a few snickers around the table as the men exchanged knowing glances. Winifred felt her fingers tighten on her pencil. It was the complaint
that she had read in her office. Obviously, the woman would find no sympathy in the prosecutor’s office.

“We won’t know that until the case goes to trial,” Charles said pragmatically. “Still, it cannot hurt to get a start on it. Marton, why don’t you and McAlister go and talk to the police? See if they have really got anything.”

“Right,” Jared said. “I saw the complaint. I have been meaning to research it, to see if we have any records of another case like it, but my calendar is too full.”

“I have already taken care of that.” Miles Witherspoon rose and placed a file before Jared Marton. “I took the liberty of researching the case myself.”

Winifred’s mouth dropped. Miles stared at her, as if challenging her to expose him. A thousand emotions swept through her at once. She could protest and claim she did the work, but would any of them believe her? Or would they defend Miles as one of their own? If so, she would earn the man’s animosity forever.

Winifred bit her tongue. Charles read the document, his brows lifted in surprise. Slowly, his smile grew, and he looked at the clerk with genuine appreciation.

“This is wonderful, Witherspoon, exactly what we needed. Thank you. You have saved Marton quite a bit of trouble.”

Miles preened, while the other lawyers congratulated him. “By the way, Miles, where did you find these citations?”

The clerk’s face changed from white to red, and he talked in a queer stutter.

“I—I—”

“In the
Law Review
,” Winifred said quickly. “I moved the books, but Mr. Witherspoon was able to find the right text. Several poisoning cases were cited,
including one where a woman was the accused. I believe it was
State v. Decker.
”

Her words seemed to hang in the air for a moment. The lawyers appeared as astonished as if the coffeepot had just spoken. Charles’s smile grew broader. “That is exactly what we needed. Well done,
Miles.
”

The attorneys went on to discuss the implications of the case. Charles sent Winifred an approving look.

He knew she had done the work and was letting her know it. Filled with gratitude, she saw that he was looking at her with pride and something else—something that made her collar seem suddenly too tight and her corset too warm.

“That is it for today. Miss Appleton, would you mind staying after for a moment?”

Winifred gathered her belongings but paused until everyone was gone except Charles.

“Miss Appleton,” he began sternly, “did you research that case?”

“I—” Winifred stammered. “I picked it up accidentally. I am terribly sorry, I did not mean to cause a problem.”

“Actually,” he said slowly, “you prevented one. Marton could not get to the case, and if it does go to court, we will need that research. Your work appears to be some of the best in this office. I congratulate you.”

His words held an odd tone, as if he were both happy and unhappy with his findings. Winifred swallowed hard. “How did you know—”

“Witherspoon could not find a precedent if it was handed to him on a silver platter,” Charles said bluntly. “I do not like you covering up for him, though. Don’t ever do that again.”

“Yes, sir.” Winifred started to leave when Charles stopped her.

“Miss Appleton, there is another case that needs the same kind of research you did today. Do you think you could handle it, between the copying?”

“Why, yes!”

“Good. You will find it on your desk first thing in the morning.” He smiled, then once again was all business. “Take care of it right away. Nice work, Winifred.” He winked at her, then brushed past her and returned to his office.

C
HARLES RETURNED
to his office deep in thought. His strategy had failed. None of the cases, not even the most sordid, appeared to have moved Winifred at all. And everyone present knew it was she who had done the research on the Black case.

Still, he wasn’t discouraged. Winifred wouldn’t last—he was certain of it. A part of him regretted it, since she had the instincts and daring to be a damned good attorney. But she wouldn’t last.

His frown deepened when he recalled holding her in his arms yesterday morning. No woman had ever been able to draw him from himself the way she did. He would have to be very careful not to fall completely under her spell. In the next moment, he found himself wondering if she would consent to a late supper. She had become adroit at avoiding him—a fact that merely encouraged him. He had discovered that she worked late on her studies in the library. He would corner her there tonight and would not allow her to refuse him. He knew just the place—quiet and romantic, with excellent food and piano music.

Rifling through the cards on his desk, he muttered an oath when he saw the last one. Charles Howe Senior
had apparently stopped by while he was in the meeting. The back of the card had a succinct but meaningful message:

Dinner tonight at 8:00
.

Evidently, his parents had seen the papers.

P
ass the butter, please, Charles.”

Charles perked up, his mind somewhere else completely. Having dinner at his parents’ house was never the most interesting of occupations, but tonight he found it even more tedious than usual. His sister was absent, having gone on a tour of the Continent, yet his parents had invited a friend of hers, Elizabeth Billings, as a guest. Charles had escorted Elizabeth a few times, and his parents wholeheartedly approved of her—and were clearly making their wishes felt.

Having captured Charles’s attention, Elizabeth gave him a flirtatious sideways look, then dropped her eyes demurely to the butter dish. The silver-plated vessel was actually closer to her than to him, but she peered at him helplessly. Groaning inwardly, he reached for the dish and handed it to her.

“Why, thank you, Charles,” Elizabeth said. “You are always so gallant and attentive! I cannot remember when I have enjoyed a meal more.”

Charles smiled politely. He hadn’t been the least attentive all evening. Although he had tried to get Winifred out of his mind, she constantly crept back
in. A smoldering passion lay just beneath her cool exterior—he was certain of it. How enjoyable would that passion be when taken to the next level? He couldn’t wait to find out. As if knowing what distracted him, his father coughed, while his mother smiled fondly at the young Billings girl.

“That is so sweet of you to say, Elizabeth,” Charlotte Howe remarked, patting her lips with her napkin. “I am sure Charles thinks so, too. Do you not, Charles?”

“Of course,” Charles said, then glanced across the table once more. Elizabeth Billings was quite a pretty girl, and he knew he should be more appreciative of her company. Superbly dressed in a pink-striped taffeta gown with a lace ribbon at her throat, she appeared quite fashionable. The color was very appealing with her brunette hair and rose-blushed cheeks, and she looked soft, sweet, and delectable, like a Christmas peppermint—and about as complicated.

“So what are your plans this fall, Miss Billings?” Charles’s father questioned. “I understand from your father that you performed some charity work for the local orphanage last year. Quite noble of you, I do say.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said shyly. “Mother, Jane, and I have been helping the orphanage for a year now. We take up collections of clothes and other things our acquaintances do not need anymore. Then we bring them to the orphanage. I like to think that we brighten the children’s day somewhat.”

“I am certain that you do.” Charles’s father said. “Now charity work is a wonderful occupation for a woman. A gentlewoman can make a contribution, without taking away from her primary role in life. These modern women today just do not know their
place. Unsexed they are, wanting to be involved in everything from politics to the workforce.”

Charles knew exactly what his father was getting at. Although the older man had a heart condition which caused most of his family to walk on eggshells around him, Charles was infuriated by his indirect criticism of Winifred. He opened his mouth to reply when his mother stood up abruptly. “I think it is time we had dessert. Gentlemen, would you like to go to the study with your cigars and brandy? We could join you later.”

Charlotte Howe smiled graciously, indicating the parlor. Her husband got immediately to his feet, and after a moment, Charles did as well. There was no sense in involving Elizabeth or Charlotte in this; nor did Charles wish to make them uncomfortable. But he could not resist defending Winifred.

“I think women should make up their own minds about what they want to do, and not be forced into a role for which they may not be suited,” Charles said hotly. “Charity work is very noble, but what is wrong with women having choices?”

He surprised himself. A few weeks ago, he would have agreed with his father’s opinion. Now he saw his father’s face darken with displeasure, even as he held open the door to the library. Elizabeth stared at him in astonishment, as did his mother. Charles smiled. The effect Winifred was having on him was apparently very unpopular.

“Y
OU SIMPLY CANNOT
let that woman stay in the state’s attorney’s office! The men at the club are appalled, and my contacts in the Senate are openly displeased.… Charles, are you listening to me?”

Charles suddenly became aware that his father had
stopped speaking. His mind had wandered back to Winifred again. She had looked so appealing that afternoon, her eyes sparkling as the attorneys discussed their cases. Even while conducting the meeting, he had envisioned peeling that stiff linen collar from her, placing kisses on every inch of skin that he bared. Downing the rest of his drink, he scowled, clearing the pleasurable thoughts from his mind.

“Yes, I heard you. But I don’t care what anyone says, I have no intention of dismissing Winifred. We need the help around the office, and she is a real asset. She assisted one of the junior attorneys with a case today and found the proper precedent for him. With our workload and lack of help, I would be a fool to get rid of her.”

“You would be a damned fool to keep her! The newspapers will not stop, nor will the gossip. Winifred Appleton is the discussion in every drawing room, and speculation about your relationship with her is rampant.”

When Charles did not react, his father shrewdly changed his tack. “You know, your exploits as the state’s attorney have garnered you favorable press. In fact, your reputation can only do you good, particularly now, with the Tweed corruption exposed. The citizens are tired of graft and dirty politics. It’s time for a breath of fresh air.”

“What has that got to do with me?” Charles asked impatiently.

“I’m getting to that.” His father baited the hook, then dangled it before him. “There is growing support for someone like you in the next gubernatorial election. Someone with a spotless reputation. Someone who is willing to roll up his sleeves and take action, who is known as a champion of justice, and who doesn’t know
the meaning of the word
graft
. In short, those in power are not opposed to considering you.”

“Me?” Charles asked, incredulous. “For governor?”

“Yes. Morality swings like a pendulum, Charles, but a campaign doesn’t happen overnight. It takes years of work, of meeting the right people, getting the right press, and laying the groundwork. It is something I want you to consider. It involves Miss Appleton, since any stain on your reputation would weaken your chances and jeopardize everything.”

“Bah!” Charles threw up his hands in outrage. “I should have known you were getting to this. I have no desire to become a political figure. My work as the people’s attorney is all I ever wanted. Winifred’s apprenticeship in my office could hardly stop my career.”

“Not yet,” his father said shrewdly. “But there is bound to be speculation. Marriage would help you tremendously, I would think, particularly to someone like Elizabeth Billings. Her good name and reputation could only help your political career.”

Charles gazed at his father in disbelief. “Are you suggesting that I marry Elizabeth simply to gain advancement?”