A Breach of Promise - Anne Perry [45]
Sacheverall was delighted. His contempt, not only for Melville but for Rathbone also, was vivid in his face and the entire attitude of his body.
He called the Honorable Timothy Tremaine and asked him for his opinion of the most admirable Miss Zillah Lambert. As Tremaine spoke, his own admiration for her grew more and more apparent. He smiled, he met her eyes, and his eager expression softened. He spoke of her with a warmth which was more than mere sympathy. An idea began to form in Rathbone’s mind, not clearly, and only a thread, but he had nothing else.
“Your witness, Sir Oliver,” Sacheverall said finally, with an ironic half bow towards Rathbone.
Rathbone rose to his feet. “Thank you, Mr. Sacheverall.” He was acutely aware of all eyes upon him. There was a hush as if awaiting a startling event. He would disappoint them, and it rankled with him more sharply than he had expected. He felt the defeat already.
“Mr. Tremaine,” he began quietly, “you spoke of Miss Lambert as if you are quite well acquainted with her. May I assume that is so?”
“Yes sir, you may,” Tremaine answered politely. He too must have been waiting for some retaliation at last.
Rathbone smiled. “And you expressed some regard for her yourself—indeed, some admiration?” It was not really a question.
“Yes sir.” Tremaine was more guarded now.
Rathbone’s smile widened. He knew what the gallery was waiting for, what Tremaine himself quite suddenly feared. It was there in his face. He drew in his breath as if to add something, then changed his mind.
“Yes?” Rathbone enquired helpfully.
“Nothing …”
“There is no need to apologize for your feelings,” Rathbone assured him. “It is only natural. She is most attractive. Indeed, Mr. Sacheverall himself has been unable to conceal a very considerable”—he hesitated delicately—“personal regard towards her….”
He heard Sacheverall’s indrawn breath behind him and ignored it.
“I …” Tremaine realized the trap and sidestepped it rather obviously. “Yes sir. I think we all feel a certain … friendship towards her which—” He stopped, uncertain how to complete the thought.
“Is your regard as … warm as Mr. Sacheverall’s?” Rathbone asked blandly.
“Well …” Tremaine looked at him squarely. “I could say I regard her more as a friend …”
Sacheverall stood up, his face only very slightly pink. “My lord, the depth of my regard for Miss Lambert is irrelevant. It is Mr. Melville’s behavior towards her which is at issue here. If Sir Oliver is trying to suggest that I have in any way overstepped the bounds of the strictest propriety, or that Miss Lambert has regarded me as other than her legal counsel, then I would warn him that he is not above the laws of slander either, and I will protect Miss Lambert’s good name with every skill at my disposal … and every weapon also!”
Rathbone laughed very lightly and swiveled to look at Sacheverall.
“My dear Sacheverall, you have spent the morning persuading me of Miss Lambert’s virtue, charm and total desirability. Is it really now slanderous for me to suggest that you are not immune to charm yourself? Surely it would be more so to suggest that you are? Then you might think I accused you of being less than a natural man. Or at the very least of speaking insincerely, saying something which you yourself did not believe.”
“You are—” Sacheverall began.
But Rathbone overrode him. “Your sincerity seemed to ring through your words, your choice of adjectives to describe her, the very ardor of your tone and the grace of your gestures. You made your argument superbly.”
“What is your point?” Sacheverall snapped, his cheeks flushed. “There is nothing improper for you to find!” He gestured towards Melville, who was sitting staring at him. “That is where the fault lies. You ha ve paved the way for that yourself! Indeed, it would be an unusual man—perhaps, to borrow your own phrase, something less than a natural man—who would not admire Miss Lambert!” His face twisted into an expression suddenly far uglier than perhaps he knew. “Have you considered, Sir Oliver, that