William Monk 09 - A Breach of Promise

looked down at the table. He had seemed thoroughly wretched throughout their preparation, but no matter what Rathbone had said, any argument or estimate he had offered about the probable outcome, Melville had refused to be swayed from his decision to fight.
    Sacheverall moved forward. He was a plain man with rather large ears, but he had a confidence which lent him a certain grace, and he had a good height and broad shoulders. His fair hair was in need of cutting, and curled up at his collar. His voice was excellent, and he knew it.
    Barton Lambert took the oath to tell the truth, the whole of it, and nothing else.
    Sacheverall smiled at him. “We all appreciate that this is a most distressing experience for you, Mr. Lambert, and that you bring this action at all only to defend your daughter’s good name. We realize that there is no animosity in your action, and no desire to inflict embarrassment or pain upon anyone—”
    The judge leaned forward. “Mr. Sacheverall, there is no need to state your case. We require you simply to prove it, if you will be so good,” he said gently. “If you will give us the facts, we shall draw our own conclusion. We assume all parties to be honorable, until shown otherwise. Please provide your evidence.”
    Sacheverall looked taken aback. Apparently he did not know Mr. Justice McKeever.
    Rathbone knew him only by repute. He hid his smile.
    “My lord,” Sacheverall acknowledged. “Mr. Lambert, willyou please tell the court how you first made the acquaintance of Killian Melville, and in what circumstances he was introduced to your daughter, Miss Zillah Lambert, upon whose behalf you are bringing this suit.”
    “Of course,” Lambert said gruffly, and cleared his throat and then coughed, raising a large hand to his mouth. “I had a little capital I wanted to spend. Create something beautiful out of what I had earned.” He looked at Sacheverall for approval and continued when he saw him nod. “I thought of a building … something real handsome … different … new. I had several architects recommended to me.” He moved uncomfortably. “Saw all their plans. Young Melville was one of ’em. Liked his the best, by a long way. The others were adequate … but pedestrian compared wi’ his.” He took a deep breath, filling his lungs. “I sent for him. Liked him straight off. Modest enough, but sure of ‘imself. Looked me straight in the eye.” He coughed again. “He wanted the job, I could see that, but he wasn’t going to curry favor for it. His designs were good, and he knew it.”
    “You commissioned him to draw the plans for your new building?” Sacheverall concluded.
    “Yes sir, I did. And it was the admiration of all my acquaintances, and many strangers, when it was built. In Abercorn Place, it is, in Maida Vale.” There was a ring of pride in Lambert’s voice when he said it. Whatever his feelings for Melville currently, he still regarded his work with delight. “You may have seen it …” he added hopefully.
    “Indeed I have,” Sacheverall agreed. “It is very beautiful. Was it at this time that you came to know Mr. Melville socially and invited him to your home?”
    “It was. Not at first, you understand,” he explained, “but as the building was nearing completion. Naturally he had to come and consult with me from time to time. Very diligent, he was. Left nothing to chance.”
    “Not a careless man?” Sacheverall noted.
    Rathbone knew what he was doing, but he could not stophim. He looked at the jurors’ faces. They were all men of property, by definition, or they would not be jurors. They would understand Lambert’s feelings and identify with them, even if their own estates were on a vastly smaller scale.
    “Not at all,” Lambert said vehemently. “Wouldn’t employ a careless man. I couldn’t have got where I am, sir, if I couldn’t judge a man’s ability in his profession.” He took another deep breath, as if steadying himself. “Thought I could judge a man’s personal character as well. Would have sworn Melville was as honorable as any man I’ve known. Looks as if I’m not as clever as I thought, doesn’t it?”
    “I am afraid it does, sir,” Sacheverall agreed. “Did you introduce Melville to your family, most specifically to your daughter, Miss Zillah Lambert?”
    “I did.”
    “Forgive me for asking you this, sir, when it must sound highly indelicate, but did you introduce Mr. Melville as a socially acceptable