The Diamond of Drury Lane (Cat Royal Adventures #1)

‘It’s just Cat . . . and that’s to friends, not to criminals,’ I said quickly.

The magistrate surveyed me with disapproval. ‘Answer my questions with yes or no, girl. I don’t want to hear any long speeches from you. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, sir,’ I said meekly, my eyes straying to Lady Elizabeth for some clue as to what was happening here. I had half hoped for profuse apologies and instant release. This did not now appear to be on the cards.

The magistrate turned to the duke and Marchmont.

‘Is this the girl . . . the impostor . . . you saw this morning in your house, your grace?’

The duke gave a curt nod. ‘Yes. I took careful note as the boy here . . .’ he nodded to Marchmont ‘ . . . had warned me only yesterday of the undue influence she seemed to have over my children. And I will swear that those are my daughter’s clothes she is wearing . . . I recognise them. She must have stolen those as well as the jewels.’

‘She didn’t steal them!’ burst out Lord Francis, unable to restrain himself any longer. ‘Father, you are a fool to listen to the poison that that toad’s been whispering in your ear! Lizzie gave them to her as we’ve told you already ten thousand times, sir!’

‘Silence!’ barked the duke, glaring at his son. ‘I will not have anyone, least of all my own son, call me a fool!’

‘Then stop acting like one!’ snapped Lord Francis unwisely.

‘I warned you,’ said the duke, his voice menacing, ‘before we came here that you are to say no more on this subject. I am shocked . . . shocked and grieved to find out that a son of mine has allowed his sister to fall into the clutches of so artful a creature. I expected better from you. This means school, sir, school!’

‘I don’t care if you send me to school, Father, as long as you listen to the truth for once!’

‘Insolent boy!’ cried the duke, raising his hand as if to box Lord Francis’s ears but at the last moment letting it drop.

Marchmont was grinning, enjoying Lord Francis’ discomfort. I wished I were close enough to slap him.

‘But, Papa,’ said Lady Elizabeth, laying a gentle hand on her father’s sleeve, ‘it is true . . . I did give her those things.’

The duke patted his daughter’s arm tenderly.

‘I know you’re just saying this in a misguided attempt to help the girl, Lizzie. You would not willingly have pawned the jewels your mother and I gave you on your coming out . . . I know how dear they are to you. What earthly reason could you have to do this? You want for nothing, need nothing. I’ve always seen to that.’

Lady Elizabeth turned agonised eyes to me. I could guess what she was thinking: if she mentioned Johnny now, before the magistrate, then he would be joining me in the holding cells with little or no chance of escape. Who knows what the law would make of our attempt to help a wanted man? We were all bound to silence until his ship sailed.

‘Papa, you’ve always been very generous to me, but I didn’t want to tell you that . . . that . . .’ Lady Elizabeth floundered.

‘That she needed money to pay my gambling debts,’ said Lord Francis quickly.

The duke wheeled round to his son.

‘Gambling debts? This is the first I’ve heard of debts! When did this happen?’

‘At the boxing last Sunday . . . the match between the Bow Street Butcher and the Camden Crusher,’ he said, the details rolling fluently from his tongue.

The duke flushed red, realising that his son’s illness had been feigned. He had escaped a morally improving dose of church for a surfeit of pleasure by the ring.

‘And how did you get to a boxing match, sir? Who took you?’ he asked coldly.

‘Pedro, the African violinist, took me. Cat was against it and didn’t want me with them.’

‘This girl went to a boxing match?’ said the duke, looking at me incredulously. I suppose it did seem very unlikely, dressed as I was in lace and silk with my hair in ribbons. ‘Did you, girl? Is my son telling the truth?’

I nodded as it seemed I must if the gambling story were to be corroborated.

‘She was dressed as a boy, of course,’ said Lord Francis, wrongly thinking that this would make it more excusable in his father’s eyes.

‘Dressed as a boy?’ The duke’s blue eyes blazed beneath his beetling white brows.

I nodded again.

‘And I suppose she trapped you into gambling, didn’t she?’ said the duke to his son.

‘No, no, that was entirely my fault. She was against that as well. Later, Lizzie offered to help me out by pawning the jewels. Cat volunteered to take them to the broker.’

‘Hmm.’ The duke looked from his son to me. ‘It would be just like Lizzie to let you impose on her, Francis. You should be heartily ashamed of yourself for abusing your sister’s trust.’

Lord Francis hung his head, hoping this reprimand was a sign that his father was swallowing the story.

‘But you didn’t see a penny of it, did you, you young fool?’ Lord Francis opened his mouth to protest but the duke silenced him with a warning finger. ‘Admit it: you were let down. You chose your agent badly, didn’t you? The girl went off with the money and gave it to that Shepherd boy.’

‘A very bad character that,’ interjected the magistrate. ‘He was caught with the whole forty pounds on him, your grace. The girl had the pawnbroker’s ticket in her pocket when we picked her up. It seems an open and shut case of theft by deception . . . possibly extortion as well when we add in the clothes.’ He peered down his nose at me as if I was something unsavoury the dog had dug up. ‘That dress must be worth ten pounds at least, I’d say. Faced with such a breathtakingly audacious crime, I don’t think I can even take into account the tender age of the offender. I doubt I’ll recommend mercy when she comes for committal.’