The magistrate settled into the chair closest to the tea and picked up the cup the servant had left for him. He made a face as he took a sip, then returned the cup to the tray.
“Then you are familiar with the charges against Miss Camden?” Bacchus didn’t have the patience for small talk, not with his mind fixed on the image of Elsie in that awful cell. He’d never seen her look so vulnerable before, so defeated. Those locked bars had completely stripped her of her practiced airs.
The magistrate nodded. “Nasty thing, really. Hard punishments, even for women.”
“I believe there’s been a misunderstanding. Miss Camden has only recently discovered her abilities. She falls well within the grace period allotted for registration.”
Lord Astley studied him in a way that did not instill confidence. “How old is Miss Camden?”
“One and twenty.”
The man’s brow knit together. “Spellbreakers usually discover their abilities in adolescence.”
“But not always,” he countered. “Elsie began to suspect only a month ago.”
Lord Astley poured a new cup of tea, loading it with sugar. “Then why did she not report it a month ago?”
Bacchus forced his posture to relax; he could feel his muscles tensing with every inquiry. “It was only a suspicion, and of course she hasn’t had the time or training to test it. Miss Camden is a working woman, you understand. Her employer keeps her very busy. And there is always a sense of fear attached to such things.”
The magistrate met Bacchus’s gaze. “Whatever does she have to be afraid of, if she’s only just discovered it?”
Choosing to be daring, Bacchus said, “Perhaps that the people she reports it to will think she must have discovered it in her adolescence, and therefore might suspect she is lying.”
To his relief, the magistrate’s lip quirked. “Touché. But my reports say that she’s been aware of her abilities for some time now, even using them.”
Bacchus didn’t miss a beat. “I believe I know who reported her, and the two met only recently.”
The magistrate considered this, but skepticism still weighed on his brow. Master Merton had likely reported the spellbreaking anonymously; how could she not? The accuser would be asked to disclose how he or she knew, and Master Merton was too covetous of her own secrets to risk an interview with a truthseeker. But that very anonymity might give Bacchus’s claim more credence. He prayed it would.
Lord Astley took a sip of tea, biding his time, organizing his thoughts. “The charges are not so simple. They’re quite severe, you understand.”
“Who is accusing her?”
Lord Astley smiled. “I thought you said you knew.”
“You make me believe I do not.” He clasped his hands together. “I am a witness. I was with Elsie during this entire ordeal. Which is why I’m shocked at the allegation that she knew about her abilities and purposefully concealed them. I know that to be false.”
Lord Astley raised an eyebrow. “It’s my understanding you arrived in England only six weeks ago.”
It took all Bacchus’s control to not show his surprise. Had the magistrate looked into his background as well? Had he perhaps read the police report of the happenings at the St. Katharine Docks?
“I met Miss Camden at a market in London shortly after my arrival,” he said, adopting the story he had used with the duke and duchess. His mind spun as he attempted to piece together a believable tale that would not result in Elsie’s broken neck. “I’ve been courting her.” The duke and his family could confirm that, as they already believed it to be true. Indeed, they’d encouraged him.
“Is that so?” The magistrate returned his cup again to the tray. “A master aspector and a stonemason’s employee?”
“I did not have the master title when we met,” he pressed. “In fact, I was with her when she detected her first spell. We were both confused. It wasn’t until later that I suggested it might be a rune. She didn’t believe me, of course.”
Lord Astley leaned back in his chair, studying Bacchus for an uncomfortable moment. “And you believe you know her well enough, and you’ve been in her company long enough, to vouch for her innocence? I find it hard to swallow, Master Kelsey, if you’ll forgive my bluntness. Your record is clear, and I believe you have the fellowship of the Duke of Kent, but it’s my job to ensure criminals pay their fare and the innocent find their mercy. It’s difficult to mete out justice when all of it is ‘he said this, she said that’ . . . but we must persist in pursuing credible claims.”
Bacchus’s palms began to sweat. “You must understand that I am an excellent character witness. And that I have no reason to lie to you.”
He had every reason to lie.
“Her accuser may have just as much clout as you do, Master Kelsey, if not more. I find it unlikely that you’ve been so attached to Miss Camden as to witness—”
“We are engaged to be married, you understand.” His pulse raced quick enough to make him dizzy, but he held his sure countenance, his confident posture. If a blossoming courtship wasn’t believable enough, Bacchus would take it further. “Of course I would spend a great deal of time with her. The wedding is mere weeks away.”
Lord Astley paused. Rubbed his chin. Stared at Bacchus as though he could peel away his skin and look into his soul. Bacchus forced himself to stare right back. He’d meant what he’d said to Elsie. He would demolish the entire castle if he had to. What was an audacious lie in comparison to that?
Lord Astley chuckled.
Bacchus stiffened. “Is the matter of a woman’s life humorous to you?”
But the magistrate shook his head. “No, no, not at all. I do not enjoy handing out sentences of guilt. I would be a terrible magistrate if I did. But I do like you, Master Kelsey. And strangely enough, I find myself wanting to believe you.”
A trickle of relief ran down his spine, but Bacchus dared not drop his guard.
“If you deliver your testimony and character witness, and the testimonies of at least three other persons whose statements support yours, I will let her go,” he said. “She’ll have to register, of course, and receive the necessary training.”
A hard sigh escaped him. He could get three witnesses easily. The duke’s family made four, Mr. Ogden made five, and perhaps even the maid, Miss Pratt, would be willing to testify. “Thank you, Lord Astley. Truly.”
“I am not unreasonable,” he said as he stood, and Bacchus followed his lead and rose from the settee. “Tired and busy, but not unreasonable. One of the servants is waiting in the hall and will show you to the door.”
Bacchus bowed. “Of course. Thank you.” He started for the exit.
“And, Master Kelsey,” Lord Astley called, retrieving his teacup once more.
Bacchus paused.
“Do invite me to the wedding,” he said, narrow eyes peering over the dish in his hand. “The nuptials between two who have fallen so quickly in love would be very interesting to witness.”
Bacchus heard the intonation between words, the kindly veiled threat, the hint that his story was not as watertight as he had hoped. Elsie was not entirely out of danger. Not yet.