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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sebastian

S ebastian was not imagining things. Selina truly was there, standing a dozen feet from him, facing the Master of Rolls with the calm of someone accustomed to interrupting formal proceedings.

“I am Selina Lawrence, my Lord,” she said. “The Hollis children have been in my care since they fled Mr. Hollis’s household fearing for their safety. I believe I hold information that will aid the Court in its deliberations.”

The Master of Rolls frowned, and a thick silence fell over the chamber.

“My Lord,” said Mr. Hollis’s barrister, “this is highly irregular. The lady is not represented by counsel—nor has she any standing at all in the matter.”

The Master of Rolls put up a hand to stop him, then looked at Sebastian. “Is what this woman says true, Mr. Drake?”

Sebastian stood. “The children have been staying with Mrs. Lawrence at my request. We believed it the safest arrangement, given the circumstances.”

The Master of Rolls regarded him for a moment, then gave a stiff nod and turned back to Selina.

“Madam, you tread a very fine line. This Court does not receive interventions from parties without legal standing—least of all unrepresented gentlewomen. I might have you removed for your interruption—or worse, held in contempt.”

Sebastian’s every muscle was taut. What would he do if he lost the petition and Selina was held in contempt of the court?

But Selina met the Master of Rolls’ gaze. “I quite understand, my Lord. I beg the Court’s indulgence and assure you I will be brief. I have no wish to flout the Court’s authority—only to assist its judgment.”

There was a long pause.

The Master of the Rolls tapped a finger against the bench, then finally gave a reluctant nod. “You may proceed, but be concise. And be warned, madam: any deviation from the matter at hand, and you will be silenced.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” she said, and Sebastian noted for the first time the trembling of her hands, which she clasped before her tightly. “I understand the Court’s concern lies in Mr. Drake’s capacity to provide for the children’s material welfare.”

Sebastian could not have sat any closer to the edge of his seat. What was she about?

“That is correct,” the Master of Rolls conceded briskly.

“I have this very week instructed my solicitor to begin the legal transfer of funds to be held in trust for Margaret, Hugo, and Felix—enough to ensure the children’s welfare, clothing, and education for many years to come.”

A rush of whispers ran through the gallery of spectators and petitioners, but Sebastian was entirely still.

“The condition of this offer,” Selina continued, her voice stronger to ensure that she could be heard, “is that the children remain in Mr. Drake’s care. The offer is made solely on that basis.”

“My Lord,” Hollis’s barrister complained, “the lady presents no affidavit—no legal evidence of this clai?—”

“Had I been aware of the hearing’s timing,” Selina said, turning toward the man, “I would have brought the relevant documentation. My solicitor may easily confirm the particulars.”

There was another silence as the Master of Rolls considered her words, lips pursed. “And what is your interest in the children’s welfare, madam? Have you some relation to them?”

Her eyes flitted to Sebastian, then away just as quickly. “No relation, my lord. I have nephews and nieces of my own, however, and when I discovered the plight of the Hollis children, I was moved to help them. Every child deserves to be protected.”

Sebastian was riveted to his seat, unable to so much as blink.

“And what makes you so certain that Mr. Drake is the most fitting guardian for the children?”

Selina’s eyes turned to Sebastian, and their gazes locked. Only the deepest clutches on his willpower kept him in his seat when every other part of him wanted to rush over to her and pull her into his arms—or stand by her side, at the very least.

She returned her focus to the Master of Rolls. “I have come to know Mr. Drake, my lord, and there is nothing he would not do for these children.”

Sebastian swallowed, for there was both compliment and shame in those words. Selina knew better than anyone what he had done in his efforts to help them.

“Whatever Mr. Hollis’s barrister has claimed,” she continued, “Mr. Drake is both capable and caring. There is no one with whom I would more readily trust my own nieces and nephews if the situation ever required it. He has my utmost respect and admiration and is by far the most logical choice as a guardian.”

Sebastian’s eyes prickled. Those words meant more, even, than the money she was offering. He did not deserve it—not her defense, not her trust.

“Thank you, Mrs. Lawrence,” said the Master of Rolls. “You may take a seat.”

Selina obediently shifted to the edge of the gallery of spectators, where space was made for her.

The Master of Rolls shuffled the papers in front of him.

“The information that has come to light—unorthodox though the manner may be—alters the nature of the petition significantly, as I am certain you can see.” He glanced at both barristers.

“In light of this—admittedly irregular—occurrence, and pending formal documentation of the trust described by Mrs. Lawrence, this court provisionally grants guardianship of the minors in question to Mr. Sebastian Drake.”

A rustle moved through the courtroom, and Hollis shot to his feet. “This is outrageous!”

His barrister reached for his arm, but Hollis shook him off and looked at Sebastian, his face turning mottled. “You will regret this, Drake! Mark my words!”

“Mr. Hollis,” the Master of Rolls said in a loud, authoritative voice, “you will conduct yourself with restraint in this court, or you will be removed from it. The ruling stands. Let it be recorded. The matter is concluded.”

Hollis pushed past his barrister, who stumbled before regaining his balance, but Hollis was rushing across the courtroom.

Every person stood, gasping as he hurtled toward the spectator gallery—toward Selina.

“You!” Hollis bellowed.

Sebastian sprang to his feet, vaulted the gallery rail, then leaped in front of Hollis, intercepting him in a crushing tackle. They hit the floor with a thud, a tangle of limbs and fury.

Hollis twisted to break free as chairs scraped and shouts rose.

Sebastian’s fist connected with Hollis’s jaw just as the court officers reached them and pulled Hollis away.

The Master of Rolls banged his gavel as the officers pulled Hollis to his feet. “Order!”

Sebastian was on his knees, breathing hard, his fist still clenched and burning.

“This is a court of law, not a boxing yard! Mr. Drake, your intervention may have been warranted under the circumstances, but the handling of Mr. Hollis is now the court’s concern. ”

“Yes, my lord,” Sebastian said, rising to his feet.

The Master of Rolls looked to the tipstaffs, who held the squirming Hollis firmly. “Take him away.”

Hollis was forcibly removed from the courtroom, and a few spectators clapped, bringing the gavel into use yet again.

Sebastian’s gaze searched for Selina, but the gallery of spectators had grown chaotic and disorganized.

“Well,” Helliwell said, blocking his view, “that went well, did it not? I was worried for a moment there—several moments, in fact—but it resolved very satisfactorily. Had I known Mrs. Lawrence meant to make such a generous offer?—”

“We need those papers,” said Sewell, who had come up beside Helliwell. “Who is her solicitor?”

But Sebastian was not thinking about papers or solicitors.

“Excuse me.” He pushed past them and made his way through the gallery as the clerk called the next matter for the court’s consideration.

Selina was not in the gallery, and Sebastian searched the room, finally spotting her walking toward the door.

“Mr. Drake,” said Lord Blackstone, who stepped in front of him, preventing his progress, supremely unaware that Sebastian had a destination in mind. “I must say, I have never been at a more enlivening session of this court!”

“Forgive me, sir,” Sebastian said, trying to move around him. “I must?—”

“Tongues will be wagging for some time, and I would wager the gallery will be crowded for weeks to come.”

“I must speak with Mrs. Lawrence, my lord,” Sebastian said, his patience wearing thin as Blackstone walked backward, remaining an obstacle.

“To make her an offer of marriage, I trust! After that display, Society will certainly expect it.”

Sebastian stopped and squared Blackstone with his gaze. “I don’t give a damn what Society expects. ”

The viscount’s eyes widened slightly. “You do not intend to marry her, then?”

“Oh, I most certainly do,” Sebastian said, setting a hand on Blackstone’s shoulder to prevent him from moving. Sebastian darted around him and toward the door, pushing through it.

It had grown even busier since his arrival, and his eyes searched frantically amongst the hordes of men.

Selina was nowhere to be found.