Page 65 of The Time for Love
She pulled a discouraging face. “Mr. Cromerford is old and stuffy and is never exactly helpful when dealing with me. He’s one of the brigade who think ladies shouldn’t bother their heads with legal matters and, more, that our heads simply aren’t equipped to understand the complexities of a solicitor’s art.”
Martin managed not to laugh. Her tone suggested that last sentence was a direct quote.
Lady Bracknell snorted and dismissed Mr. Cromerford with a haughty wave. “You should get rid of him. He’s clearly a dodo and, as such, is of no use whatsoever to you or the steelworks.” Her ladyship frowned. “Unfortunately, my man—whom I trust and who knows his place—is in London.”
Both she and Sophy looked at Martin.
Sophy asked, “Do you consult with someone in Sheffield?”
He hadn’t wanted to suggest his solicitor, but given the circumstances… He nodded. “I use Mr. Edgar Brumidge. He came highly recommended, and to date, my dealings with him have been entirely satisfactory.” He met Sophy’s gaze. “Would you consider speaking with him?”
She nodded decisively. “We need to learn the purpose of this document as soon as we possibly can.”
They all looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. The hands stood at ten minutes to four o’clock.
Martin glanced at Sophy. “If we go now, we might catch Brumidge before he leaves for the day.”
“I’m coming, too.” Lady Bracknell pushed up from the sofa. She waved Martin to the bellpull. “Ring for Higginbotham, and let’s get going.”
To Martin’s relief, Roland had arrived with a bag. While the carriage was being prepared, Higginbotham showed Martin to a room, and he quickly washed and changed. He hadn’t been thrilled by the idea of appearing at his local solicitor’s offices looking as if he’d spent the night carousing and hadn’t bothered to make himself presentable.
Feeling much more the part in a fresh overcoat, coat, waistcoat, and trousers, he descended the stairs just in time to hear Higginbotham report that the carriage was ready.
A minute later, in the mews, Martin helped Lady Bracknell into the small closed carriage, then assisted Sophy up the steps and followed.
A groom shut the door, and the coachman set the horses trotting.
Martin sat opposite Sophy and her ladyship, the pair of whom occupied the forward-facing seat. He’d given the coachman directions to Brumidge’s chambers in the High Street; as the carriage turned out of the mews, Martin hoped they’d be in time to catch the man.
CHAPTER11
They reached Brumidge’s chambers in good time and were assured by his secretary that the solicitor was still there. They waited impatiently in the outer office while the secretary took in Martin’s card and his request for a few minutes of the man’s time.
Almost immediately, Brumidge himself threw open his office door. He was a tall, well-built, rather burly presence, today kitted out in a suit of brown tweed. His alert blue gaze swept over them, and a beaming smile split his face.
“Mr. Cynster!” Brumidge advanced, hand outstretched, allowing his secretary to slip back to his desk.
Martin gripped Brumidge’s hand, and the solicitor assured him, “It’s an honor to be called on, sir, whatever the time. I believe I’ve mentioned that I’m happy to be of service in any way whatsoever.”
“Indeed. And here I am.” Martin released the solicitor’s hand, and Brumidge turned his beaming countenance on Sophy and her grandmother.
“And who are these lovely ladies?” Brumidge asked.
Amused by the gleam in Brumidge’s eye, Martin made the introductions.
Brumidge was a self-made man who’d had the wits and good fortune to be well-educated and the sense to then read law, a career path to which his agile brain had proved well suited. He’d chosen Sheffield in which to hang his shingle specifically because it was a town of growing industrial might, and he was steadily expanding his practice among the town’s elite.
“Do come in, ladies, Mr. Cynster.” Brumidge ushered them into his inner sanctum. “Please, sit and tell me how I may assist you.”
Once they were seated in the comfortable chairs set before the desk and Brumidge had subsided into his chair on the other side of the impressive expanse, Martin drew the document from his pocket.
He glanced at Sophy and, at a nod from her, said to Brumidge, “Miss Carmichael is a part owner of Carmichael Steelworks, located here in town. Earlier today, she was given this document, and a demand was made that she sign it. As part of your services to me, I would like your advice on what the purpose of the document is and your opinion of the likely outcome were Miss Carmichael to sign it.”
His eyes on the document, Brumidge nodded. “Only too happy to oblige.”
Martin handed the document over the desk. Eagerly, Brumidge took the sheets, smoothed them out, placed them on his blotter, and started to read.
He reached the end of the first page and, frowning, glanced across the desk. “This will take a moment. I’m fairly sure I know the answers to your questions, but I would like to study the entire document before tendering my opinion.”
