William Monk 09 - A Breach of Promise

expression made all too evident what manner of word was running through his mind.
    “You can use whatever word is natural to you,” Rathboneanswered with a sneer he did not bother to hide. “You have no reputation to guard in here.”
    Sacheverall flushed. Perhaps he was more aware than he showed that he was awkward beside Rathbone, clumsy, inelegant, that his ears were too large.
    “If you think I won’t drag it up, you are mistaken!” Sacheverall said angrily. “I will! Every sordid detail necessary to prove my client’s case and claim the damages she’s due. Melville will end in prison … which is where he belongs.”
    “If that is what Barton Lambert wants,” Rathbone said very quietly, his voice as calm as if he were addressing an elderly lady disposing her will. His mind was racing. “Then he must hate Melville … or fear him … far more than would be explained by anything we know so far. Although I do have an excellent detective working on the case, and if there is anything whatsoever in the history of any one of the Lambert family, from the day they were born, then he will find it.”
    He saw Sacheverall’s face darken with anger, and ignored it. “And, of course, once you have opened the door for this kind of slander then anything will be permissible. The gallery will love it. The press will tear them apart like a pack of dogs.” Rathbone adjusted his legs a little more gracefully. “You and I are aware of that, naturally. We have seen it before. But are you sure the Lamberts are? Are you perfectly sure Mrs. Lambert is prepared to have her every act—every flirtation, every gift, every incident, letter, confidence—examined this way and interpreted by strangers? Can anyone at all be so certain of every moment of their lives?”
    Two furious spots of color marked Sacheverall’s cheeks and he sat forward, his back straight, shoulders hunched.
    “How dare you?” he grated. “You have sunk lower than I thought possible. Your client is guilty of acts that all civilized society regards as depraved. He has pursued and deceived an utterly innocent young woman for the furthering of his own ambition—and you threaten her with slander in order to aid him in escaping the consequences of his actions.” He jabbed his finger in the air and his lips were drawn into an almostinvisible line. “You show that behind that facade of a gentleman you are without honor or principle. The best I can think of you is that you are ambitious and greedy. The worst is that you have a sympathy with your client which extends a great deal further than you would wish it supposed.”
    Rathbone felt an absurd moment of chill as he realized what Sacheverall meant, then laughter. Then his dislike turned into something much greater.
    “You have a prurient mind, Sacheverall, which seems to be fixed in one area. The reason for my refusing to admit to this act on my client’s behalf is extraordinarily simple. He has instructed me not to. I am bound by his wishes, as you are—or should be—bound by those of Miss Lambert and her family.” He put his fingertips together. “I do not know why Mr. Melville is so unwilling to marry her after having grown to know her as well as is undisputed between us. But if you have a jot of intelligence between your ears”—he saw Sacheverall flush; he had referred to them deliberately—“then you will consider the possibility that the reason has nothing to do with Isaac Wolff and everything to do with Miss Lambert herself.”
    “She has nothing whatever to hide!” Sacheverall said between his teeth. “Do you imagine she would be foolish enough to go into this if she had? Her father is not an imbecile.”
    Rathbone smiled patiently. “If he imagines he knows everything about his daughter’s life, then he is more than an imbecile,” he replied. “He is a babe abroad in the land, and not only deserving your protection, for the fee he pays you, but needing it, in common humanity.”
    Sacheverall was shaken. It was in his eyes and his mouth. He was also very very angry indeed. His hand on the table was trembling.
    Rathbone uncrossed his legs and stood up. “Give the matter a little more thought before you call these witnesses of yours and open up the area of private conduct in an effort to ruin Melville. I think you will find it is not what Lambert wishes. Perhaps you should speak to Miss Lambert alone? You may find she has been maneuvered into this suit by circumstancesand