Page 62 of The Unfortunate Debutante
“I understand your need for adventure, but perhaps you could do it from the safety of the estate for the time being.”
“I can do that,” she promised, stepping back.
“Good,” Rachel said. “Now, off with you. But just so you know, we’re proud of you, whether your article is accepted or not.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, exiting the room.
11
Simeon exitedthe hackney in front of a three-level, white-washed building, which housed the public offices of Justice Thomas Keats, a magistrate for the 34thDistrict.
Pembrooke came to stand next to him. “I question the validity of your plan.”
“I think it’s brilliant,” Simeon replied, not bothering to spare him a glance. “Besides, I don’t have time to wait for an appointment. If Justice Keats is in his office, he will see us.”
Pembrooke gestured towards the front door. “After you.”
They entered the building and were approached by a brawny man wearing no jacket, with a pistol tucked into the waistband of his trousers.
“You blokes lost?” the man grunted, placing his right hand on the pistol.
Reaching into the pocket of his waistcoat, Simeon pulled out his calling card. “Please inform Justice Keats that I would like a moment of his time,” he said, extending the card.
The man accepted the card reluctantly and read it. Immediately, his head snapped back up. “Yes, milord. I will inform Justice Keats of your arrival.”
Once the man had stepped away, Pembrooke chuckled. “I have never seen you play that hand before.”
Simeon gave a one-shoulder shrug as he removed his top hat. “I’ve found that my title has opened up doors, whereas being a Bow Street Runner typically slams the door shut.”
The man reappeared from a side door and said, “Justice Keats will see you now, Lord Wentworth.”
“Thank you,” he replied as he moved towards him.
They stepped into a small office with a lone window, with weathered, papered walls, and a simple rug. An older gentleman sat behind a desk and greeted them with a frown more than a smile. He had dark hair, woven with gray, and deep frown lines between his eyes.
The man rose from his chair. “What brings the Viscount of Wentworth to my office today?” he asked, pointing towards two chairs in front of his desk.
Unbuttoning his jacket, Simeon sat down. “I was at Templeton Square today, and I saw some atrocities on behalf of the warrant thatyouissued, Justice Keats.”
Keats returned to his seat, appearing undisturbed. “May I ask why you were at Templeton Square?”
“It’s no secret that I work as a Bow Street Runner,” Simeon shared. “I was there on official business. However, Constable Stone struck my female companion and arrested her for resisting arrest.”
With a frown, Keats commented, “That’s most unfortunate. I’ve taken Mr. Beacon’s recommendation and fired Constable Stone for his deplorable actions today. His conduct was not becoming an officer of the law or this office.”
“And what of the others’ actions?”
“Pardon?” Keats replied.
Simeon considered the justice of the peace for a moment. Either this man was a simpleton and he truly did not know what took place at Templeton Square, or he was involved in the corruption. He would need to proceed cautiously.
“Under the warrantyouissued, the constables attacked unarmed men and women as they attempted to arrest the orator of the protest,” he explained.
Justice Keats sat back in his chair. “I assure you that is not what happened. Those men and women were bearing arms, and my constables were merely protecting themselves.”
“That’s rubbish. I was there,” Simeon contended. “Your constables started hitting people with batons as they made their way towards the stage. Only after people were bloodied and bruised did the fighting break out.”
Threading his fingers over his waist, Justice Keats remarked, “It’s against the law to hit an officer of the law. Those people’s actions were criminal.”
