A Rational Proposal (Furze House Irregulars Book 1)(37)

“You cannot house them all, Verity.”

“That is no reason not to try.”

Mr Dryden’s rooms were more cramped than Mr Tweedie’s, and there was only one clerk in the outer office to the three that Charles and his partner kept busy. This accorded exactly with how Verity would have expected her father to do business.

Mr Dryden glanced at her disapprovingly and addressed himself exclusively to Charles. Realising Charles would be able to bargain far more persuasively without her presence, Verity bestowed a charming smile on the clerk and settled herself on a hard chair by the wall to wait.

Mr Dryden huffed, called for the papers relating to Mrs Bowman’s jointure, then slammed the door into the inner sanctum behind himself and Charles. The clerk timidly asked Verity if she might move so he could lift the papers down from the shelf above her head.

“Certainly,” said Verity. “It was not at all my intention to be in your way. May I be of assistance in holding anything?”

“Thank you, miss. Such a lot of clients we have. The Bowman papers are those in the purple ribbon at the bottom of the pile. If you could just hold these, please, while I get them down...”

Verity balanced a tottering stack of papers, then passed them back one at a time once the required bundle had been retrieved. The Bowman papers proved to be an unwieldy accumulation of packets and when the clerk tried to extract the particular set required, the ribbon around them was found to be completely knotted. In his hurry, the clerk made it worse.

“I need Mr Johnson’s deeds,” ordered another attorney, striding through the door and glaring at the clerk. “Now.”

“Certainly Mr Dent. I’ll just...”

Verity stood up. “Shall I undo the knot around our papers?” she offered. “I have had a great deal of experience untangling snarls in ribbons and silks. There is a knack to it, I find.”

The harassed clerk accepted gratefully and Verity’s fingers busied themselves with the purple ribbon. She located the key knot and gently teased it loose. The clerk and the other partner still had their backs turned while they looked for the missing deeds.

Curious, Verity riffled through the papers under the pretext of squaring them together more tidily. The top packets in the stack appeared to be mostly labelled ‘boundaries’ and ‘fishpond’ and ‘gifts to John’, but half-way down was a slim package marked ‘Papers relating to Catherine Margaret Bowman’. Verity didn’t stop to think. She whipped it under her cloak. By the time the clerk had dealt with his other employer, she had redone the ribbon around the bundle with a perfect bow. “There, that will make it easier for Mr Dryden to handle, will it not?” she said with a smile.

“My thanks, miss.” The man hurried it through Mr Dryden’s door.

Some twenty minutes later, during which time Verity daren’t look down for fear of seeing her cloak positively on fire with the purloined papers, Charles emerged with a air of satisfaction and escorted her back to his own chambers.

“It is possible a celebration is in order,” he said. “Come through to my office while I jot down the main points of the discussion.”

This was fortunate. Verity immediately slid Kitty’s papers from her cloak to the table. “Oh, how foolish of me. I appear to have carried something off by mistake.”

Charles read the label and looked a horrified question at Verity.

“I do hope it isn’t something important,” she said mendaciously. “That office was desperately untidy, was it not? Nothing like as well regulated as this one.”

“Verity...”

She looked at him, limpid-eyed.

One of the clerks appeared in the doorway with a letter. “Just arrived, Mr Congreve. The gentleman’s gone.”

Charles cleared his throat. “Thank you. Do please have a seat, Miss Bowman.”

“Certainly.” She arranged herself sedately.

“Verity, where did you find these?” he demanded once they were alone again.

“Half-way down that great bundle of papers. I did not see why John should have this package when it quite clearly pertains to Kitty.”

There was so much exasperation in his gaze that Verity almost quailed before it. “Did you learn nothing at Bow Street? Does the term ‘theft’ hold so little meaning for you?”

“Fiddle. The place was in such a muddle, they will never miss it. And if they do, and if they happen to remember I was in the outer room - which they won’t, for I am sure Mr Dryden looked through me as if I wasn’t there - I have a most excellent attorney. Come, Charles, do not be mean. What do the papers say?”

“One day, Verity, I will not be there to save you. Think on that the next time you have one of your impulses.” Nevertheless, he unfolded the sheets and read them through. He frowned and glanced over them again.

“Well?” asked Verity, unable to keep silent any longer.

“It is very puzzling. One sheet is a few lines signed by a Reverend Good recording the marriage between Captain Simon Eastwick and Miss Catherine Margaret Bowman.”

“That does not sound puzzling.”

“The next sheet is an agreement stating that as Catherine has not made a suitable marriage as was stipulated in Mr Bowman’s first wife’s settlement, her half of the six thousand pounds from the late Mrs Bowman shall now be made over to her brother John on his making a suitable marriage, or on his majority, whichever is the sooner. In other words, he gets the whole settlement.”