Unveiling Love: A Regency Romance (A London Regency Romantic Suspense Tale Book 4) by Riley Vanessa

Author:Riley, Vanessa [Riley, Vanessa]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Multi-cultural, IR, Regency Romance, Regency Suspense, BWWM
Publisher: Gallium Optronics, LLC
Published: 2016-04-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven: The Trial of The Century

Barrington tugged on his horsehair wig making it fit more snugly at his ears. He took a quick breath and smoothed the lace bands of his collar. The sweet nosegay wafted by the clerk at the beginning of the session still freshened the air at the Old Bailey. He peered at the growing crowd in the gallery. His stomach turned, clenching as he counted. The spectator's numbers grew to hundreds.

All here to witness the Dark Walk Abductor's downfall, but the penalty would befall three: Gerald, Amora, and her babe.

A sigh forced its way out, heating his nostrils. His lungs squeezed at the wave of helplessness filling his chest.

Barrington straightened and turned to the front of the court.

Justice Burns leaned forward in his chair. The glow of the desk lamp reflected on his robes. "The jury has found you guilty of the charge of theft."

The judge's clerk appeared and put the black cloth upon Burn's head. "Make the prisoner rise."

Three hits with a baton made the man in the prisoner box stand to his full height.

The opposing counsel should go to his client and bolster him for the sentence to come. Barrington leaned over to whisper his advice when he caught sight of a vision in the gallery.

Amora led by Vicar Wilson and Mrs. Tomàs settled into a seat.

His wife left him in the attic to awaken alone. No good byes or final pleadings. She probably knew he'd attempt to talk her out of coming.

Yet, she did leave their separation paperwork laid neatly by his boots. Scrawled atop the parchment were the words, "Burn at your earliest convenience."

Which he did.

With a wave of Burn's hands, he silenced the crowd. "The defendant," the judge said, "you will be led back to jail from whence you came and stay within its walls laboring and repaying your debt for the next three years."

The gallery erupted, some hooting, others weeping. The Bow Street Runner who brought the indictment jumped up and waved.

"Who will feed m'children?" The sentenced man sobbed and clutched the iron rail of the dock.

The gaoler tugged almost in rhythm to the spectator's chanting, "Three. Three. Three."

The bailiff joined the gaoler. Each clutched a scrawny shoulder of the convict and dragged him out of the courtroom.

A hush soon covered the place again.

As the people parted, Barrington saw his petite wife again with her raven hair swept up in a neat chignon. Like a fruited cake covered in bliss icing, she was topped with a fine bisque bonnet. The scalloped neckline of her dark yellow gown accentuated the curve of her full bosom and the delicious flair of her hips. A lacy shawl draped her elegant neck and framed the gentle rounding of her abdomen. Amora. His wife and child. Would the three know a day of peace? God, allow us to find a home together, intact.

He blinked his eyes, but couldn't take his gaze from her. His heart beat a thousand times a minute. He fingered the air tracing her silhouette, circling her lips to his.

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