Execution Dock Page 0,9

down the stairs with a swirl of pale green and white muslin, looking impossibly cool in the heat. She kissed him gently, smiling perhaps still a trifle self-consciously. He found a pleasure in it that he thought might be tactless to show.

They talked of many things over dinner: a new art exhibition that was proving more controversial than expected; the queen's absence from the London Season due to the recent death of Prince Albert, and quite how much difference that was going to make in the future; and of course the wretchedly miserable matter of the civil war in America.

The conversation was sufficiently interesting to occupy his mind, and yet also supremely comfortable. He could not remember ever having been happier, and when he retired to read a few necessary papers in his study he found himself smiling for no other reason than his inner peace.

Dusk was already gathering, and the air was mercifully cooler when the butler knocked on the door and told him that his father-in-law had called and wished to see him. Naturally Rathbone accepted immediately, although somewhat surprised that Arthur Ballinger would specifically ask to see him, rather than including his daughter as well.

When Ballinger came in, hard on the servant's heels, Rathbone saw at once that the matter was professional rather than personal. Ballinger was an attorney of high standing and very considerable repute. From time to time they had had dealings, but so far no clients in common, Rathbone's practice being almost entirely in major cases of criminal law.

Ballinger closed the study door behind him to ensure their privacy, then walked over to the chair opposite Rathbone. Barely acknowledging the greeting, he sat down. He was a large, rather heavy man with thick, brown hair that had only touches of gray. His features were powerful. Margaret had gained all the delicacy of her face and bearing from her mother.

"I am in a difficult position, Oliver," he began without preamble. "A long-standing client has asked a favor of me that I am loath to grant, and yet I feel I cannot refuse him. It is a business that frankly I would prefer to have nothing to do with, but I can see no honorable way of escape." He gave a slight shrug, with one shoulder only. "And I suppose, to be honest, no legal way either. One cannot pick and choose in which matters you will act for people, and in which you will not. That would make a mockery of the entire concept of justice, which must be for all, or it is for no one."

Rathbone was startled by such a speech; it suggested a lack of confidence quite uncharacteristic of Ballinger. Something had clearly disturbed him. "Can I be of help, without breaking your client's privilege of discretion?" he asked hopefully. It would please him to assist Margaret's father in a matter that was important to him. It would make Margaret herself happy, and it would draw him closer into the family, which was not a situation he found naturally easy. He had a deep instinct for privacy. Apart from an intense friendship with his own father, he had found few ties in his adult years. In some ways William Monk, of all people, was the truest friend he had. That excluded Hester, of course, but his feeling for her had been different: stronger, more intimate, and in ways more painful, he was not ready to examine it any more closely.

Ballinger relaxed a fraction more, at least outwardly, although he still concealed his hands in his lap, as if they might have given him away.

"It would break no confidences at all," he said quickly. "I am seeking your professional skills to represent a case I fear you will find repellent, and have very little chance of winning. However you will, of course, be properly paid for your time and your skill, which I regard as unique." He was wise enough not to overpraise.

Rathbone was confused. His profession was to represent clients in court; very occasionally he prosecuted for the crown, but not as a habit. Why was Ballinger nervous about this, as undoubtedly he was? Why come to Rathbone at home, and not in his office, as would be far more usual? What was so different about this case? He had defended people accused of murder, arson, blackmail, theft, almost every crime one could think of, even rape.

"What is your client accused of?" he asked. Could it be something as contentious as treason?