The Christmas Strike. Nikki Rivers
glad that Morris House stood in isolation.
Mounting the back-area steps, they found themselves in a street they soon discovered was called Abbeygate.
“Which way?” wondered Leonora.
“The Abbey will be in the town,” suggested Clarissa.
Its tower beckoned. “Very well,” decided Leonora, “we will go to the Abbey and ask our way from there.”
“It truly is a huge building,” murmured Clarissa as they walked its length to arrive at the West Front. “Dare we go in?”
“It is so,” agreed Leonora “But we must not linger. I have no appointment and we may have to wait to see the lawyer.”
“We could attend a service here on Sunday,” suggested Clarissa.
“Perhaps,” said Leonora. She did not intend to be seen in public before she had acquired a more becoming wardrobe.
High Street was nearby and they had no difficulty in finding Mr Coggan’s offices. He, it seemed, was free to see Miss Vincent immediately.
“Good luck,” murmured Clarissa as she took the seat offered by a clerk and prepared to wait.
Leonora was ushered into a dimly lit room where she discovered a youngish man in legal garb, who rose from a chair behind a desk strewn with parchments and papers intertwined with red tape, to greet her.
“Miss Vincent! A privilege to meet you,” he cried, bowing deeply before asking her to be seated and sitting down again himself. “Sadly,” he went on, “I never knew Mr Charles Vincent, but Mr Warwick asked me to represent him here in Bath, and to act in your interests as beneficiary under Mr Vincent’s Will. You have appointed him to act for you in other matters?”
“No,” said Leonora, frowning. “He is, I suppose, not acting for me but for my uncle still, as his executor. It did not occur to me that I myself had need for a lawyer.”
“I should be delighted…should you think it in your interests…should it please you…to act for you in whatever way you might need, Miss Vincent,” he said, eagerly yet with a diffidence which appealed to Leonora.
He was really quite a personable creature, even distinguished, in his wig. He was young, keen and surely ambitious. He might be just the one to take on the Earl.
“You have met Lord Kelsey?” she asked, without committing herself.
“Once, Miss Vincent. To inform him of your being named as beneficiary under Mr Charles Vincent’s Will.”
“And what was his reaction, pray?”
Coggan looked embarrassed. He flushed. “He was dismayed,” he admitted. “He proposed to offer you a sum of money to purchase the house. Has he done so?”
“He has. And I have refused. Morris House is mine, is it not? There can be no question under the Will?”
“Indeed, no, madam. You have taken possession of the property, its deeds and all the investments have been transferred to your name and the cash rests in an account at the bank in Milsom Street, which needs only your signature to make it operable. No doubt you will present yourself there as soon as possible.”
Leonora nodded.
Coggan resumed speaking. “I have presumed to write a note of introduction to the manager. Thus the Will has been fully executed. Mr Warwick’s duty, and therefore mine, is at an end.”
“Thank you,” murmured Leonora, accepting the sealed paper handed to her. “Mr Coggan,” she went on, tucking it into her reticule, “I shall be glad if you will advise me on the matter of the lease.”
“Ah,” said the lawyer thoughtfully. “You are dissatisfied with the terms? They could, by agreement, be amended.”
“I want it terminated,” said Leonora baldly.
“Terminated,” repeated Coggan. His voice had gone flat. “I do not believe that to be possible, except, of course, by agreement. I take it Lord Kelsey is not willing?”
“No. But I want him out. I cannot endure to have a gambling hell on my property.”
“A hell?” Coggan sounded surprised. “Do you have proof of your contention, Miss Vincent? As far as I am aware, the Vitus Club is a legitimate business and the use of the rooms for the purposes of cards and gaming is not forbidden in the lease.”
“Then find proof that Lord Kelsey is in some other way breaking the terms of his lease or even of breaking the law! I cannot believe that he does not use the Club as a cover for relieving gullible gentlemen of their fortunes. Small establishments are notorious for this.”
“Gentlemen lose fortunes at White’s, Brooks’s and Boodle’s, madam. No one condemns those clubs as gambling hells.”
Leonora rose. “I see you are on Lord Kelsey’s side,” she said stiffly. “Thank you for your time. I must seek another lawyer to represent me.”
Coggan jumped to his feet. His wig slipped and he clapped it hastily back into place. “No, Miss Vincent. You mistake me. I am not on his lordship’s side. I merely point out to you the difficulty you face in attempting to overthrow the lease if his lordship is determined to remain in possession of his rooms. Do please sit down again and let us discuss the matter further.”
Leonora sat. She liked Coggan and thought him honest. But as the discussion continued, she came to see that there was little either she or her lawyer could do to evict Lord Kelsey unless he was proved to be violating the terms of the lease.
“He must be,” said Leonora with growing lack of conviction. “Find someone who will investigate the way he runs the business. Find someone he has fleeced.”
“I will do my utmost,” promised Coggan.
And with that Leonora had to be content. For the moment.
“I have to go to the bank,” she told Clarissa as they left Coggan’s offices. “This way, I believe.”
The streets were narrow and busy. Leonora and her companion picked their way through to Milsom Street, eyeing the shops and the dressmakers’ and milliners’ establishments on their way.
“There is the circulating library!” exclaimed Clarissa suddenly.
Leonora was engaged in looking for the bank, but was sufficiently interested to stop and take a good look at the quite impressive façade of the library. “We must take out subscriptions,” she declared. “But look, there is the bank. Why do you not go into the library and make enquiries? I will join you there when I have finished my business.”
She had almost reached her destination when she recognised the gentleman walking towards her. He wore a many-caped top coat, a tall hat set at a rakish angle on his brown head, carried a silver-knobbed cane and had a ravishing female dressed in blue velvet and sable fur on his arm.
Kelsey. She could not ignore him. She acknowledged his pleasant but formal greeting with the courtesy demanded.
He turned, smiling, to his companion. “Alicia, may I name to you Miss Vincent, the new owner of the property in which the Vitus Club has its rooms?”
The woman’s scrutiny held slightly amused interest. “Of course,” she murmured. Leonora suspected that she had been the subject of some earlier discussion between them.
“Miss Vincent,” he drawled, “I have pleasure in presenting you to Lady O’Brien.”
“My dear!” exclaimed her ladyship once the formal curtsies and avowals of pleasure had been made. “How intrigued I was to learn of your good fortune! My husband is one of the Vitus Club’s most devoted members!”
Leonora did not know of the O’Briens or what rank the woman’s husband held. She forced an amiable smile, inclined her head in acknowledgment of the pleasantry but said nothing.
“You